Goo-Goo

The new year is a good time to make changes and move forward. Whether you like it or not, there comes a time when one needs to grow up.

Such is the case with Sam.

Before he was born, I was sure that I would NEVER give him a pacifier. Kate didn't have one, so why should he? My resolution lasted about 3 days. He got circumcised and came back to my hospital room with one in his mouth. I melted--he was miserable and I wanted him to have comfort. Thus, Sam formed a strong bond to his pacifier, which he lovingly dubbed his, "Goo-Goo".

The goo-goo provided comfort through his miserable days with reflux. During that time, he cried for hours with his back arched and legs flailing.

Fast forward to today. Sam is now 2 1/2 and he still loves the goo-goo. Day or night, home or away, he loves it. The problem is that it is now a problem.

When the goo-goo falls out of his mouth at night, does he reach over and put it back in his mouth? Nope. He yells, "Daddy, I need goo-goo." and expects one of his parents to reinsert the pacifier. He has absolutely no interest in helping himself, he just cries until we put it back into his mouth. Makes for a poor night's sleep.

My pediatrician has been encouraging me to take away the pacifier for some time, but I've been resistant. Runner Boy thinks the goo-goo should go, too. Primarily because I sleep through the crying and he ends up with the pacifier re-insertion duty.

I don't want Sam to be sad about the loss of his goo-goo. I dread the tears and distress. But, I think there's even more to the issue. In some ways, giving up the goo-goo is giving up part of his infancy. Not that Sam is trying to hold on to his infancy, I am. Giving up the goo-goo is a form of accepting the fact that he's growing up. He was the baby I held, nursed and cuddled and he's now an active toddler. I can't stop the clock and hold on to those baby days and it's proving to be hard for me.

Runner Boy is having a great time with Sam at this age and can't understand my sadness at all. It perplexes him that I still look over my shoulder and miss the baby days. (Admittedly, Sam was a very difficult newborn.) For me it's the realization the days of brushing my cheek on his baby fuzz are over. No more watching him try to figure out how to grab his toes. We're done with those fantastic little grins during tummy time. That brings a bittersweet tear.

With the realization that I need to let go of the pacifier as much as Sam, I had to come to terms with what is best for him now. So, yesterday we started to transition away from the goo-goo. He can now just have it at nap & bed time. Eventually, it will go away all together. Yesterday went fine, but I found him trying to reach through his crib slats today to grab it for comfort. I bit my lip, took it away until nap time and distracted him.

I know that he'll be fine. I know that there are many memories to be made as he grows and matures becomes time moves on.

But, I will miss his goo-goo, too.