RIP Dummy

We've had the proverbial blood, sweat and more tears than I can count on this one, but Miss Z seems to have finally accepted the departure of the Dummy, taken from this house last Sunday night by the Dummy Fairy, to be (washed over and over) passed on to some poor wee baby who has no dummy to call their own.

Oh, and what a week it's been. The Big Decision to put in the SMS to the Dummy Fairy Hotline was made quite easily about an hour before bedtime. Miss Z seemed quietly confident in her decision, snuggled up to me happily at sleeptime and off she went to the Land of Nod with not a D-word in sight. God Bless co-sleeping, by the way, I don't think this would have worked at all if we didn't have each other to cuddle in the darkest hour of the dummy-less night!

Day Two, or, as I like to call it affectionately, Armageddon, wasn't quite so love and roses. Oh no. We weren't happy with the Dummy Fairy at all. We called her some quite rude names, some of which made Mummy blush and reconsider her liberal approach to venting road rage openly in front of the children! I believe at one point we HATED the DF, who STOLE our dummy and who gives a flying %&*^ about the poor wee babies with no dummies to call their own - let them SUFFER and their parents should buy them their own anyway, because they're just MEAN to take ours....

You get the picture.

Several glasses of wine and many, many cuddles later, Miss Z sobbed herself to sleep, shuddering with every breath with snot and tears smearing all over my crispy clean 1000 thread count white pillowcase...

Deep breath. She's asleep. Everything else is meaningless.

Well, we're now on Day Six. She hasn't slept before 10:00pm any night since then, and is, as I type this, awake watching the Golden Compass with her brothers (I don't even want to know what the three of them are doing to my 1000 thread count sheets, as I know I saw someone furtively smuggling in a banana about an hour ago) but there is silence and, this is as much as I can ask for , having cruelly deprived my beloved daughter of her D-U-M-M-Y.

Oh, and on that, WTF did I think that spelling it out would mean that she didn't know what I was talking about? She's known what D-U-M-M-Y means since around the age of 20 months. *sigh* Sometimes us mums can be a bit dense.

The screams, tantrums and defiant poses have continued all week, lessing in their ferocity ever-so-slightly each night. Tonight we had a doozy of a floor show as I was cleaning the kitchen, but I'm going to put that down to her natural feminine aversion to housework, as I'm SURE she has to be over the dummy thing by now.

Anyway, with my trusty glass of wine at my side, I'd like to raise a cyber-toast to that mythical and all-powerful being, the Goddess of Straight Teeth, the Dummy Fairy. Let the dearly departed dummy bring hours of peace and tranquility to some other family. And let them ditch the bloody thing well before the child's 3rd birthday.

Oh yeah, and wash it really, really, really well. God only knows where that thing has been!!

RIP Dummy,

*J*