So, with the Christmas downtime ahead of us, hubby and I decided it was a good time to ditch the dummy. It may have also been prompted by childcare casually informing me that missy is not allowed her beloved dummy in her new room next year. While some parents might feel a bit pissed off by this lack of choice (usually, me!), I saw it as a reason to finally get rid of the dummy, which often caused us no end of issues. “I want my dummy!” “I’ve lost my dummy” “I want to hold three dummies, while sucking another dummy, and screaming about more dummies!” Okay, she didn’t say the last one, but she might as well have.

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So, how did we go about it? You’re going to think it’s weird. After much chat with missy, and some input from friends, we ended up with a mish-mash of dummy journeys. In the end, the “bin man” left a box at our door, with a letter in it telling missy what a big girl she was now. The letter continued, this box is here for you to put your dummies in. I will then give them to baby girls and boys for Christmas (the bin man delivers present, right?). You are such a big girl now. If you are good tonight I will leave you a special treat in the morning.

Missy grabbed all her dummies and enthusiastically put them into the box. Winning! Smug me and wary hubby took her to bed, and I casually dropped every last dummy in the wheelie bin so we wouldn’t be tempted to shove one in her mouth. Then … the screaming. “My dummy! I want my dummy. I want my dummy. I want my dummy. I. Want. My. Dummy!” It was horrendous. She cried, we cried, we rocked, we cuddled, we comforted. Eventually, she went to sleep and she stayed asleep. Until 5am (groan). In the morning, a brand-new Peppa Pig DVD awaited.

Daddy had the day with missy and had to rock to sleep, but only one request for a dummy. Night two was easier, with more rocking, but less screaming. No dummy requests. Night three was easy, and we were home. Or so we thought …

Everyone says it takes three days to get off the dummy, and it’s true. It does. What they don’t tell you is how much that little rubber motherjumpingbajinga is the source of all things wonderful – routine, sleep, comfort. Suddenly little  missy has said “screw you” to day sleeps and saunters around post-3pm like a big girl who has taken far too many codeine tablets after 17 glasses of wine. The thing is she still needs that sleep, and I know that the little rubber delight would set her off into dream time straight away. What’s a mumma to do?

It’s tough. My patience is thin, my house is an absolute mess, and I’m disturbed by the number of bottles residing in my recycling bin right now. I want to say “stay posted”, but my blogging is sporadic at best at the moment. If I discover a solution, I’ll let you know. Until then, spare a thought for a mumma who is faced with a daily battle for nap time, and a strong denial that nap times might be coming to an end.

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