Lovable Lovies

Breaking the bottle was brutal; tossing the pacifier was tough; but none of these lovies was nearly as challenging as ending Natalie's obsession with my thumb.

I have this clear memory of story hour one afternoon. Bailey was still crawling The bo-ho hippie girl

Bailey

across from me had her little boy in her lap and he was twirling her hair over and over. She sort-of shrugged and said, "I guess I'm his lovie!" It was so sweet and illustrated for me how close she was with her son. They had bonded, seriously. I wished for a moment where B might want me that badly, ever. She was the baby that came out holding up her head and never, well almost never, held your hand or wanted to be snuggled.

Then came Natalie. She wanted to fall asleep with my hand over her face, and finagled her way to co-sleeping, despite my best efforts to avoid it. I have struggled with the guilt of sending my children to daycare while I selfishly fulfilled my own dreams in the world of work. If my baby needed hugs and snuggles, well then, so be it! She earned them in her 9 hours out of the house.

But, anyway, I have to break Natalie's well-entrenched habit of rubbing my thumb while she falls asleep. Seems like a small thing, and oh how sweet and endearing, but it was depriving us of much needed night time sleep. She was waking near hourly and searching for my thumb to put herself back to sleep, much like any other child would snuggle a blanky. I was her lovie, and she needed me to sleep. I, however, needed sleep without a thumb-raping.

So, it has been a slow process filled with bribery and guilt and doctors. She has tried to convince her grandmothers that their thumbs are ok, that its only mommy's thumb she can't have. The latest is that she can rub my other fingers, "the tinies" she calls them. They aren't my big one, which actually makes some sense.

Natalie, summer 2012 in Orlando, Florida

Tonight we hit a new low. She was insistent on holding and rubbing my pinky finger and began telling me an elaborate tale of why it absolutely needed to be. Apparently, she's making a rainbow and under that rainbow you can have candy and presents. And if I will only help her (by sacrificing my pinky) she can make this rainbow and we can all go there, and my sister and her boyfriend, too! Sounds blissful, and there's a part of me that sincerly hopes that is what she dreams of each night. But alas, my pink is the cost and no closer to independent sleep than we were a month ago.