Willpower
I remember it as a great and glorious day when Fiona found her thumb. After weeks of midnight (and 1, 2 and 3am) trips into her room to pick the pacifier up from wherever it had fallen out of her crib and slap it back into her mouth, suddenly she could self-soothe. And Mommy and Daddy were able to sleep and it was good.
As she got older she never quite gave up sucking her thumb, but it did reach a point where she would only do it under specific circumstances -- we called it "sad, mad or tired" -- and for the most part we ignored it, even as we knew in the back of our heads that each day we put off weaning her off her thumb would make the eventual reckoning that much harder. Would you rather quit smoking at 20 or 50?
A few weeks ago Fiona went to her first dental appointment. She really enjoyed the trip, despite initial trepidation. We're seeing a pediatric dentist, which means all of the rooms are decorated in dinosaurs and mermaids and butterflies and princesses and they play Pixar movies on the TVs in each room. We came out of the trip with two pieces of bad news. The first was that Fiona had a cavity, which served us right for waiting about a year too long to get her into the dentist. The second was that it was time for her to stop sucking her thumb.
The first was dealt with easily enough--they used gas, not Novocaine, and Fiona had no complaints.
The second was the reckoning. We didn't want to go straight to the foul-tasting cream that we've seen other parents put on their children's digits -- we knew we'd do it if we had to, but we didn't want her to feel punished. Instead we struck a deal, figuring we have such a willful daughter normally we might as well harness that stubbornness for positive ends. So we agreed with Fiona: for each day she didn't suck her thumb she got to put a sticker on a calendar. Get to 5 stickers, she would get a small treat. Get to 10 stickers she'd get a slightly bigger treat. Get to 20 and we'll let her know about this obscure theme park 90 miles away in Orlando where the patrons often wear rodent ears.
The first two days were the toughest. The first day Fiona bawled for 15 minutes when I reminded her about the deal. But each time we told her to take her thumb out, she did, and while she learned to hate the rear view mirror in the car, by the third or fourth day she wasn't reaching for her thumb any more out of boredom. By the end of the first week, she wasn't reaching for it when she was sad or mad (although she does sometimes cry that she can't calm down without her thumb). We still catch the thumb in from time to time when she's still sleeping early in the morning, but at this point we've passed all thresholds.
In addition to being a holiday of some renown, tomorrow will also be day 20. And that means on Monday we'll be heading up to among the more happy places on earth. And then we'll see for real if the deal we struck worked at weaning her long-term, or if she was just in it for a 3-week crash course in order to get some princess loot.
As she got older she never quite gave up sucking her thumb, but it did reach a point where she would only do it under specific circumstances -- we called it "sad, mad or tired" -- and for the most part we ignored it, even as we knew in the back of our heads that each day we put off weaning her off her thumb would make the eventual reckoning that much harder. Would you rather quit smoking at 20 or 50?
A few weeks ago Fiona went to her first dental appointment. She really enjoyed the trip, despite initial trepidation. We're seeing a pediatric dentist, which means all of the rooms are decorated in dinosaurs and mermaids and butterflies and princesses and they play Pixar movies on the TVs in each room. We came out of the trip with two pieces of bad news. The first was that Fiona had a cavity, which served us right for waiting about a year too long to get her into the dentist. The second was that it was time for her to stop sucking her thumb.
The first was dealt with easily enough--they used gas, not Novocaine, and Fiona had no complaints.
The second was the reckoning. We didn't want to go straight to the foul-tasting cream that we've seen other parents put on their children's digits -- we knew we'd do it if we had to, but we didn't want her to feel punished. Instead we struck a deal, figuring we have such a willful daughter normally we might as well harness that stubbornness for positive ends. So we agreed with Fiona: for each day she didn't suck her thumb she got to put a sticker on a calendar. Get to 5 stickers, she would get a small treat. Get to 10 stickers she'd get a slightly bigger treat. Get to 20 and we'll let her know about this obscure theme park 90 miles away in Orlando where the patrons often wear rodent ears.
The first two days were the toughest. The first day Fiona bawled for 15 minutes when I reminded her about the deal. But each time we told her to take her thumb out, she did, and while she learned to hate the rear view mirror in the car, by the third or fourth day she wasn't reaching for her thumb any more out of boredom. By the end of the first week, she wasn't reaching for it when she was sad or mad (although she does sometimes cry that she can't calm down without her thumb). We still catch the thumb in from time to time when she's still sleeping early in the morning, but at this point we've passed all thresholds.
In addition to being a holiday of some renown, tomorrow will also be day 20. And that means on Monday we'll be heading up to among the more happy places on earth. And then we'll see for real if the deal we struck worked at weaning her long-term, or if she was just in it for a 3-week crash course in order to get some princess loot.
posted by BWC at
11:13 AM
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