Aaaaaaaaaaaaay

Storey has always been a thumb-pacified baby. Once or twice, in desperation, we even tried to introduce a pacifier. She hated it. Hated various different models. Hated all of them. How dare we offer something other than a thumb or boob?

So, our thumbs have been her friend, her comfort, her security. They've put her to sleep every night, helped soothe her stomach after every feeding, dried her tears when scared and kept her quiet in the checkout line at the grocery store. There's convenience built into this approach. Thumbs never fall on the floor and get dirty. They never get gummy, never need replaced, and YOU get to decide when to take them away.

Ah, yes, the thumbs rocked. Up until a week or so ago.

Anything in excess causes problems I suppose. Looking back, I think we might have over pacified things a bit. Any grunt, cry, whine, fuss and wapam! friend thumb would appear. Having every little complaint met with comfort was fine for the first few months, but then Storey started to form her own little personality and test the amount of control she had over her environment. This became most apparent when our dear sweet baby found a voice and started shouting at us, really shouting. Not crying, shouting, like, "HEY!" Yes, shouting for the thumb. Downright bratty.

And so, thus began the Era of Thumb-Weening. Immediately. I don't do well being shouted at by anyone, let alone a baby. Babies turn into toddlers who turn into kids who turn into teens and then adults. Bottom line, we want her to feel loved, but loved does not = entitled. Better to let her know now that that's not how we do things.

The first night she cried for 34 minutes. The second, 10. Last night 3, then after every middle-of-the-night feeding, she soothed herself to sleep without a peep. Today's noontime nap: just a whimper and then zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I'm so proud of her. Our big girl. She turned 4 months old yesterday. What a hard won but victorious birthday present. The Fonz, I know, would approve.