Now I realize that I haven't been as dedicated lately to chronicling the apocalypse that is parenting Taryn, but suffice it to say that any doubt I may have had about the depths of human depravity died the day she turned 2! Thus, out of fear that I would (yet again) bring a knife to a gun show, I mapped out a very intentional battle plan...Operation Paci Purge...which revolved around the trifecta of weaponry.
1. "like Bro-ey" - read the previous post to understand the underlying principles of this weapon
2. "I do it" - I challenge you to find a parent out there that isn't intimately acquainted with that phrase
3. "the pink one" - she's a girl...need I say more?
Soooo...Operation Paci Purge commenced just before bed when I casually pulled out weapon 1 and suggested that Taryn might be old enough to get a (pink...weapon 3 already at work!) musical soothing seahorse just like Brody's (yes...Brody has a pink seahorse...scroll back a few years to when I broke him of his paci to figure that one out). She was like putty in my hands, so I decided to proceed to weapon 2.
Now the success of the "I do it" weapon hinged on making her swap out the pacis for the seahorse all by herself. So I told her that in the morning she could take her pacis to the store and "buy" her seahorse with them. And while she spent her last night as my sweet baby, happily sucking herself to sleep, I was anxiously debating whether or not this was really gonna work.
But that's where the pink comes in to play! That girl can't say no to pink. So pink pacis packed into the pink purse hung on her shoulder as we walked into Target the next morning. I knew going in that we needed to go directly to the right aisle because the future of our nights would only be favorable if we walked out with that one, pink seahorse. We had no room for error or distractions. What I wasn't prepared for was the explosion in the night-soothing toy market. There was an entire aisle of every animal you could imagine making noises from the African Savannah to the muffled pulse of the womb. There is only one thing Taryn likes more than pink...and that's animals! After a momentary stop at a super-plush, life-like giraffe and a nervous reminder that the unnatural glow of the gum ball pink sea creature was "just like Brody's", we were in front of the cashier and facing our next hurdle.
I kept the exchange short and sweet as Taryn plopped her baggie of pacifiers in front of the bewildered (and somewhat disgusted) cashier. One sheepish shrug and a thank you carried us out the door and we haven't looked back since.
True...she did not sleep at all for nap that day. And yes...she still asks for her paci every time she gets in bed, but all I have to say is, "You used them to buy your seahorse. Would you like me to turn it on for you?". That's one less battle for a mom in the trenches!
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