Katherine made the Great Leap Forward on Sunday, with (so far) only mild kicking and screaming. She gave up her pacifiers.
Marn suggested here making a trade-in ritual of some sort, but instead of Santa, we went with an extrapolation of that idea from another friend of ours. On Sunday after brunch, we all trundled off to Toys ‘R’ Us, and Katherine rather casually gave up a gift bag of “dee-dees” to the man at the counter, in exchange for a Big Girl Present, a trike. The dee-dees would go to some poor Little Kids Who Don’t Have Any, she was told. (In reality, they went into a locked cupboard, just in case.)
Yes, we are going to Hell.
And, yes, Katherine now has wheels. Be afraid.
The repercussions have been rather mild so far. She’d already begun weaning herself from the things over the past month or two. She’d want one in bed, but sometimes didn’t remember. If she got seriously stressed or hurt herself, she might cry for one. But it wasn’t an automatic thing any more.
Since then, she’s gotten a bit fussy in the middle of the night, wanting something of the pacifier sort (she still hasn’t gotten the thumb thing), but it’s been remarkably mellow.
Of course, my folks go home today, so Margie and I will be on our own in dealing with any further trauma. On the other hand, Katherine’s been taking to her tricycle by leaps and bounds, so to speak, so hopefully that will provide a sufficient distraction for her.
As long as we can keep up …