Yeah, so The Badoo still has a “dummer”. The only thing dummer than the dummer in this house is the parents for letting their three year old continue the habit. The rule is that it’s for bedtime only, but the reality is that the bloody thing is hanging out of her mouth more often than not. She really, really loves it.
She asked for dummers for her birthday. Aside from nail polish and shoes and world peace, that’s all she wanted. Who could resist?
Well, probably 99% of the good parents out there, but secretly I can’t really see the harm. There’s the teeth thing, of course, but she already has an overbite on her that could rival Freddie Mercury‘s, so I think the dental damage is done. Really, unless you’re going to wean your very young baby off the dummy (or, of course, never give it to them in the first place – heelllllo first baby!), it’s just a fact of life that you’re going to be buying them braces at some point.
Maxi-Taxi never took a dummy. This was mainly because back before I knew what I was getting myself into with this whole parenting gig, I was adamant that no child of mine was going to have a dummy. I’m not exactly sure why, but I just knew dummies were ‘bad’ and parenting without them was ‘good’. By the time I woke up to myself he was six weeks old and not having a bar of it. I spent ridiculous amounts of time popping the dummy in and watching it instantly pop back out – he was like the world’s kindest poker machine. For the record, the kid took three months to learn how to breastfeed and then wouldn’t ever take a bottle, so maybe he was just annoying in general.
Needless to say, Cappers was plugged before we even left the delivery room. “What’re you lookin’ at,” I recall growling at the disapproving midwife (I later blamed my rudeness on the post-birth drugs, but we all know that was a lie). Cappers, who is of course the self-raising baby, spat the dummy out at about 4 months old and that was the end of that.
And then along came The Badoo. Grumpy. Third Born. Addict.
The only time it really drives me crazy is when she talks with it in.
“Urg wruf moo gun,” she says.
“I love you too, don’t talk with your dummy in!”
She has this trick where she twists the dummy around and around using her tongue. You’d swear you can hear the faint sounds of carnival music while she does it. Da da dah dah dah dah da da dah dah. Roll up, roll up and see the fantastical, the magical, the amaaaaaaazing three year old Freddie Mercury lookalike!
Cracks me up every time.
I know it’s bad, but we’re not even close to working our way free of this dummy vice. She likes it, it gives her comfort… where’s the harm I say. Should I feel guilty about that?
[Image of the Pacifier Tree – where kids go to hang their dummies when they’ve finished with them (unfortunately all the way over in Sweden which seems a little far for The Badoo to travel) – by Camilla Engman – cool blog by the way!]