I waited until Mary was three weeks old before giving her a soother as per all the breastfeeding advice you’ll ever hear or read anywhere. (Okay, maybe she was two weeks and five days. As if I’m not riddled with enough guilt that I need your judgment. Lay off already!) After I pushed the soother back in her mouth a few times, she took it. Hallelujah! I was not looking forward to letting a baby suck on my finger to settle down to sleep every time for five freaking months before finally, FINALLY, she deigned to take a soother. (Ahem, Irene.) And for a few blessed naps and car rides she gladly suckled that silicone nipple like it was the best thing going.
Suffice it to say, that didn’t last. Try to slip a soother into her mouth these days and as soon as plastic meets lip she screws up her face as if to say, “What the hell kind of nipple is that?!” It’s actually quite funny. (Or so I tell myself to keep from drowning in the depths of finger-sucking despair.) So, of course, I tried to stage a soother-rejection scenario for our collective amusement.
That’s right, baby girl, drift off to sleep. Nothing bad is going to happen.
Sound asleep. Nice.
Here, why don’t you take this soother? Mwahaha.
Aaand . . . oh. She took it. SHE TOOK IT! This is so much better than that stupid face. This is amazing. I think I’ll put her down now.
Hm. She spit it out. Well, if she wakes up I’ll just give it to her again. Nothing to worry about. We’ve got this here thing solved, my friend.
Well, that didn’t work.
And that is how I woke up my baby with my stupid blog tricks and didn’t even get the shot I was after. The end.