Oral Fixations and Other Obsessions

[Trying to get 4-year old Kenny to give up his security blanket]


Jack Butler: "I understand that you little guys start out with your woobies and you think they're great... and they are, they are terrific. But pretty soon, a woobie isn't enough. You're out on the street trying to score an electric blanket, or maybe a quilt. And the next thing you know, you're strung out on bedspreads Ken. That's serious."


I have an arsenal of movie lines I LOVE from this 1983 classic, "Mr. Mom" - but as I try and wean my girls of different security vices, including Josephine's blanket (a.k.a. her "D") made of soft, pink silk which she lovingly and sometimes obsessively demands as soon as I pick her up in the afternoon from school - I am beyond exhausted and don't want our remaining few hours before bedtime to be filled with misery and inconsistencies...mostly on my end...Mother of the Year, I know:(

But honestly, her eyes seem riddled with anxiety until she is able to clutch that soft material and hold it close to her cheek, fingering the soft edges in a zen-like fashion; exhaling slowly--her body visibly relaxing.   Kind of scares mommy to see the dependency in her three-year-old daughter's eyes.

Dare I share my indifference towards other mothers whom, even as bystanders, seem comfortable offering unsolicited advice by drawing from their own successful ventures as mothers who weathered the storms of toddler-hood.

"My (insert child's name) got ride of her blanket at eight months!"..."We threatened to take away their toys for a month, worked like a charm!..."Just tell her she is a big girl.  In fact, she is a big girl.  Literally.  What are you feeding her?"

All this unsolicited advice and I can't help thinking, "When you're a single mom, who is hands on and giving 110 percent of energy towards a career and then towards two adorable, and a bit manipulative, little girls while trying to squeeze in dinner, laundry and keeping up with bills and a tidy home...then explain how your were able to take away the one object your 3-year old holds dear to her heart and soul...I double-dog dare you...

Oh well, things could be worse.  I could have gained 12 pounds in six weeks while partying with my boys, Ben and Jerry...Oh wait...I did gain 12 pounds by eating their array of pint sized heart-attack-waiting-to-happen pints of ice cream!  Curses...A girls gotta live - right?

.                                                     Josie asleep with her "must-haves."