I’m coming off of a blog post where I claim to have killed the Easter Bunny in my dream and did it without feeling any emotion. I am not heartless, I’m actually kind of an emotional mess at times. For example, I was crying during Mike’s funeral on Desperate Housewives. I don’t even like the show anymore, but I keep telling Ryan I have to finish out the series since I have watched it from the beginning.
I won’t watch a St. Jude’s commercial or an ASPCA one for that matter. When someone posts a video on Facebook with the status of “Get your box of tissues…” I don’t watch it. And don’t even get me started on the military mother or father that surprises their child at school. I don’t watch them because it leaves me with red, swollen eyes. Snot running out of my nose (because I don’t actually get the tissues before the video). And that hiccuping speech where…you…can’t…get…a…full…sen..tence…out.
I know I’m not alone when it comes to my reaction to the above. OK, maybe not everyone was crying during Desperate Housewives, but only because no one watches that show anymore.
What got me all choked up today was this face.Not exactly that face he’s making, but Rory’s cute little face. On his 3rd birthday we tried to get rid of his binky. I gave in after an hour because he would not got to sleep. I haven’t tried to get rid of it since, but was adamant that the binky would only be used at night. Soon that too was being ignored and Rory was back to having a binky a lot during the day. Pretty much anytime he asked for it, I gave it to him. Yesterday I decided that was going to stop.
I took his binky away in the morning and put them on top of the refrigerator since it’s the only place that he is completely incapable of reaching. He wasn’t happy, but we made it through the day with some extra snuggling and at bedtime, he was asleep before I got through the first page of our bedtime story, with his binky, of course.
This morning, I went through the same routine and tried to get Rory overly excited about not having his binky. He’s no dummy – he wasn’t buying what I was oh so desperately trying to sell him. I got him to sit on the couch with a snack so I could take a quick shower and when I got out, Rory was standing there with the longest face I had ever seen. All he said was “I miss binky.” He said it so softly that you could actually hear my heart breaking. NO! I will not give in that easily. I told him that once I got ready I would snuggle with him. He wasn’t really patient with me and kept coming back to the bathroom to ask me if he could have binky. Each time I told him “No, just give me a few more minutes and then we’ll snuggle.”
The next thing I heard were his despairing calls of “Binky, where are you?” “Binky? Is that you?” “Binky, I can’t find you!” He was in the living room frantically searching for Binky and his pained face was more than I could take. He was unbelievably sad and I just can’t bear to see my kids like that. I have seen my kids get physically hurt – falling down, bonking their heads, even by other kids, but I know they’ll be OK and I know in a few minutes, the sting of that broken skin will fade for them as well. Seeing my child emotionally hurt, well that’s something else entirely.
I made Rory a deal. He could have his binky as long as he was in his bed. He didn’t have to go to sleep, but that was the only place he could have it. He agreed to my terms, rather enthusiastically, and off he ran to his bed, awaiting his beloved binky. I got a few things done around the house and was just about to pull him out of his bed and take his binky away when he trotted out of his room, threw his binky in my face, shouted “I’m done!” and took off down the hall. Funny how a slimy binky hitting your cheek shakes all the sympathy you had for the small child out of your body.
And now that I have finished my post, I realized that it’s WTF Wednesday, so I have to say to Rory….WTF?