Oh, but I was so happy to kick out these clunker highchairs. 
Binkies, pacifiers, suckies, nukes. Those powerful and magical baby soothers. Symbol of peace, love and baby. The time arrived and we sadly laid the last binkies to rest. After Tsega chewed up his 100th binky--approaching a rate of one per day--Jerry had to say it,
let's get rid of the damn things, and my heart thumped a hard beat.
God, the day we had pictures of our boys and I strolled the baby aisle with motherhood
at last in my soul . . . and bought purple, pink, and blue binkies. Staring at those binkies,
this was real. Jerry's the one who, while in Ethiopia, kept sticking those suckers in. Tsega was hooked first and hooked hard and by the time we reached home, all three were sucking.
In my motherly wisdom, I can tell you babies and toddlers are adaptable and resilient. I pay no attention to advice that warns against forming bad habits during the baby years.
No rocking baby to sleep, no co-sleeping, no pacifiers, no this or that because they are addictive battle-waging creatures that can't give anything up. Bah. Not true, except for maybe the thumb and breast. And food. If you have an allergy-free and strong bellied baby, get adventuresome early with food (wish we had). I have been dreading the end of binky but it took about one day for all three boys--all of whom loved binky--to stop whimpering over their loss. They are old enough to cope without it. The worst part is now I have no reason any longer to shop the baby aisle. Except, oh yeah, diapers, still clinging to those (don't ask how PT is going!).
In honor of Binky, I made a little video.
(Oh God, another video? Who has time to watch these?) Disclaimer: I made this and added the song
before it was sung by Adam on American Idol last week.
Really. I already knew this sad song was something special because, well, I am just that cool. What a mad world indeed . . .
