Lessons in Bad Parenting: Pacifier Enabler

I don't have an addiction myself, but I suppose I'm what you'd call an "enabler."  Last night, I fed my daughter's addiction to her pacifier and managed to make Eric the bad guy once more.

While reading our bedtime stories, Madeline told me, with a voice on the verge of tears, that she didn't want to go na-night because she was scared.  

"Do you want your pacy?" I whispered.  

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly.   

"Okay, but you have to go right to sleep," I said as I handed it to her.  She nodded again, sighed with relief as the pacifier touched her lips, and nestled her head in her pillow.  I kissed her goodnight and headed downstairs sheepishly.  

I decided I didn't need to tell Eric.  This would be our little secret.  But half-an-hour later when Madeline still wasn't asleep and Eric went to check on her, I heard over the baby monitor, "Hey, where'd you find that pacy?"  

"Mumma gave it to me."  Busted.  Maddie's a narc.  

Like the responsible, loving parent he is, Eric took away the pacifier.  She cried big, heartbroken sobs, and rejected his attempts to comfort her.  Only the person who had gotten her into this pickle in the first place could soothe her.  Oh, Maddie Bear, don't you see that I'm really the enemy?  I was summoned upstairs, and I rocked my little girl until she was calm again.   

One of the side effects of Eric's absence from home for three weeks is that now when he tries to tell  Madeline what to do, she looks at him like, "Who are you, old man?  I answer only to Mumma!"

Thus, the untimely dynamic of "good cop" vs. "bad cop" is being played out in our home.  Guess who's who.         

Madeline's reluctance to go to bed last night is becoming a common occurrence in our house.  She seems to have developed a fear of the dark.  More often than not, we put her to bed only to hear, "Mumma?  Dada?  I'm scared..." followed by lots of boo-hoo-ing.  It's starting to get to the point where just the mention of bedtime gets her anxious.

The thing is, like Madeline and so many other children, I was once afraid of the dark too.  Even as an adult I prefer to fall asleep with the television and/or hall light on.  While Eric was gone, I slept on the couch most nights because lying upstairs meant listening for every creak and bump in the night instead of sleeping.  This is probably the reason my mother presented me with an Oprah and Deepak de-stressing meditation CD last week.  (Seriously.)

Therefore, when Madeline starts crying fearfully from her room, it tends to pull extra hard on my heartstrings.  I understand how she feels, and I'm a total sucker for a sad Maddie Bear.  

So, when Madeline was having a rough night a few weeks ago while Eric was gone, I committed a serious error.  I reached up to the highest shelf in Madeline's room, pulled down the very last of her pacifiers, and handed it to her.  Oh, Mumma...how could you?  

We had broken Madeline's pacifier habit months ago.  She didn't even seem to mind.  As luck would have it, one of her pacifiers got a hole in it, so we told her she couldn't have it any more.  Then a few days later, a second pacifier got a hole in it.  By the end of the week, every pacifier she owned had a "hole" in it, and so into the trash they all went.

It seemed she could understand the logic of the broken pacifier.  There was very little whining, arguing, or questioning...which for our stubborn, little redhead, is pretty amazing.  The only side effect is that it started taking her twice as long to fall asleep at night.

However, we kept one pristine, nearly-unused pacifier tucked away for emergency purposes.  And there it remained until I turned my sweet girl into a pacifier junky once more.

Over the course of Eric's trip, Madeline and I began using the pacifier more and more frequently.  First, it was only on rough nights.  Then it became most nights.  Then I started supplying the pacy during nap time too.

She used it to feel secure and calm when falling asleep.  I used it for the selfish desire for control and bonus afternoon naps.

Sadly for Maddie Bear, once Dada returned home, he pulled the plug on the pacy and staged an intervention.  Last week, when she proudly strutted across the living room with it in her mouth, Eric swiftly took it away.  An epic tantrum ensued.  Now she insists that she needs it most nights, and while we don't give in (at least most of the time), I can see her addiction in her trembling bottom lip.

So it seems, while we broke the pacy habit without any drama the first time, this second time is proving to be more of a challenge.  Way to go, Mumma.

I suppose we should probably just toss the last pacy like the others and find some other way to cure Madeline's fear of bedtime.  I'm just not sure if I'm ready to let go.  I really need those afternoon naps.

He's really the good cop, Maddie Bear.