How to Get Your Toddler OFF the Paci...Ahem.

 The paci's resting place...

First, let me say...I'm ba-accck! And we have our lovable, huggable, cutie-patootie Macy. I cannot wait to go crazy with my camera and take pics of our sweet puppy!

Anyway. Back to the subject at hand.

The paci has been somewhat of a nemesis to me for almost 2 years now. It's an arch enemy of sorts. Awful.

Let me put it this way--Isabella? Would never ever ever go to sleep without it. Ever. I am not kidding...and, oh, how I wish I was kidding.

Fast forward it to Friday night--June 18th to be exact. After struggling and fighting with Isabella to get to sleep I decided that a nice evening on the porch at sunset would do her good. After all, we were in the Smoky Mountains--the view? Gorgeous. The mountain air? To die for.

So there we are. Rocking on a dark green wood rocking chair. {Talk about a total "mountain" moment, huh?!} and she starts going crazy. Nothing new until...

IT  happened. She threw her paci. OFF the freaking mountain. I almost threw up. I almost cried.

 Until she asked for her paci and I told her sorry...you threw it off the mountain, honey!

And she laughed, told me she threw her paci off the mountain and the squirrels had it.

Greatest freaking day of my life--and you know what? She is still off the paci 48 hours later. If you ask her where her paci is she will tell you, "Paci on the mountain. With squirrels! I threw it."

Seriously love it...best paci story ever!

Yes, She Still Takes a Paci.

I've had it up to, oh, here with comments I get when people realize that Isabella still takes a paci. It's her safety net. Her comfort zone. Her soother. It's what gets her through a tantrum when nothing. else. will. And I'm sorry, but I refuse to give into demands for snacks, candy, tv shows etc.

I realize that one day she will be off the paci. I have yet to see a 16 year old driving down the road with a paci in their mouth--so I'm assuming I'm safe in my assumption that she won't be taking her paci for another 12 years.

I don't dog on other parents who do things differently. I certainly don't judge other parents for how they decide and choose to raise their children. And most importantly? I will never make a bitchy comment to another mother for how she is raising her child and the choices that she is forced to make every single day.

So, just a word of advice to any motherbitches {thank you, Shell, for this uber fabulous word} that may be lurking in the shadows:

Do not assume that because my 2 year old still has a paci that I am a bad mother.

Do not assume that because my 2year old still has a paci that I have no control over her.

Do not assume that because my 2 year old still has a paci that I can't figure out how to break her of the habit. It's not like she's out smoking and drinking--it's a pacifier.

And do not, under any circumstances, assume that because my 2 year old still has a paci that it gives you the right to offer parenting advice or to act so shocked that she has a paci.

Does it annoy you when you get snarky comments about how you raise your children? I typically ignore it. Or choose to blog about them *insert sugary sweet smile here*.

*This happened irl--not in blogland. Just wanted to make sure that nobody thought I was talking about them. xoxo

A Post About a Paci and a Bra...

On Saturday Leo and I decided to head over to Hobby Lobby to get a few supplies for Isabella's birthday cupcake toppers.

As any parent knows, trying to get yourselves ready and getting the little ones ready, snacks packed, and sippy cups filled up is quite the task.

Leo was packing up the bag and the girls.

As he loaded Madelyn in her carseat he asked me if I had seen her paci anywhere.

Hm. It had been in the recliner with her when I was rocking her to sleep.

But according to Leo it wasn't over there.

Not under the chair.

Not around the chair.

Not stuffed in the chair.

He found a different one and life went on.

Fast forward to 2 am Sunday morning.

I had finished making the cupcake toppers and thank you tags for Isabella's party.

As I was getting ready to finally crawl into bed I felt something.

In my bra.

Reached down...

It's the missing paci!

I was then mortified for a couple of reasons....

I had been walking around with that in my bra all afternoon. Shopping and all.

And the second reason?

How did I not feel a paci stuffed in there?!