I catch him just in time.
Reaching down before we head in, I tuck his pacifier inside my purse.
That was a close one.
She greets us happily and we go through the current wave of germs plaguing our home.
New meds, run the humidifier, the basics of our never-ending visits.
Almost done, he hasn’t asked for it yet.
“Thanks so much Doctor, hopefully we won’t be back soon.” I say smiling.
And then she looks back at his chart…
Here is comes.
“How are you doing with getting rid of the pacifier?”
“Is he still using it at bedtime? Naps?”
“Only if he needs it.”
“Good job Mom. I would like to see it removed completely within the next month or so. Are you up for it?”
“Of course,” I reply in the most genuine, doctor pleasing tone I can muster.
As she leaves the room, I exhale. We survived.
I have done this parenting-a-toddler-thing four times now and have decided a few things:
- He will not still be using a pacifier in college.
- I like my nights with sleep and my car rides without shrieking.
- I’m pretty confident in my parenting choices and am not losing sleep over a pacifier addiction.
So why can’t I tell this to our pediatrician? Why does this sweet, well-meaning woman turn me into a ten year-old trying to hide a bad grade on my math test? What do I think is going to happen if she finds out I have not followed the How To Raise A Toddler With Straight Teeth handbook to the letter?
I drive away with our secret safely buckled in the backseat, alternating between two pacifiers like a starved man with a steak.
Or a mom who narrowly escaped being discovered by her pediatrician as human.
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