Binky Free For Disney

I reached my binky breaking point one afternoon when Eli was whining for his binky and I was repeatedly telling him he couldn't have one until nap time. He resorted to stealing one of Carson's binkies and curling in a ball under Carson's crib to succumb to his guilty pleasure. I had had enough.

I removed myself from the situation to breathe deep breaths and devise a plan. A plan to permanently rid Eli of his binky. I had heard if the very tip of a binky is cut, it loses its appeal to young binky addicts. In my slightly manic moment of binky frustration, I discreetly made my way towards the scissors. With Eli screaming violently in the background for me to give him back the binky, I barely snipped the edge of the binky as a revenge-filled smile crept on my face.

"Here Eli. Here's your binky." I said calmly and politely -- eager to see the response to the new defect. Eli looked at me suspiciously. Then it happened. The binky went in. I anxiously watched.

It took him a few seconds to notice. Then he pulled the binky out and said, "It's cracked, Mom!"
After our two-year battle of the binky, I enjoyed my moment of malicious revenge, "It is?!? You must have sucked a hole in it because you sucked it too much. Uh-oh."

Then this happened:

For about an hour.

I knew I'd need to pull out all the stops to get Eli to fall asleep without a binky, so we sat down to have a little chat right before his nap, "Eli. Guess WHAT?!?"
Eli responded through choppy inhales and tear-smeared cheeks, "What?"
"In a couple of months, we are going to a place called DISNEYLAND!"
"Whats Disneyland like?"
"Disneyland is where Mickey Mouse lives! And Donald Duck! And MATER!"
Eli's breathing began to regulate as a smile appeared.
"But guess what. Only big boys who don't suck binkies get to go to Disneyland. So you don't need a binky anymore, do you?"
I paused a moment to let everything register. Then Eli responded, "Is Brooke going to be there?"
"Yup. Brooke and Caroline and Spencer and LOGAN and Luke and Grandma...(I went on to name the whole Disneyland roster.)"
"Oh---" stuttered breathing "ka--aay."

He went down for a nap and didn't mention the binky once. Nor did he mention the binky at bedtime. And when he did start asking for it again, all I had to do was remind him once about Disneyland and that was enough to pull him out of the verge of relapse.

To help him visualize his binky-free Disneyland goal, we made a chain. If he ever stole a binky from Carson, all I had to say was, "Okay Eli. I guess you don't get to rip a chain off today." And he would spit that binky out right away.

Overall, removing the binky (for the second time) was far less traumatic than I expected. All it took was a moment of raged revenge, an hour of bloody-murder screaming, and a Disney bribe to get the job done. Bada-bing Bada-boom.

I will now be accepting donations for Carson's 2015 binky-free Disneyland reward.