I wanted to give you an update on my brilliant brainchild of a plan I lovingly referred to as Operation Bye-Bye Ba-Ba.
Operation Bye-Bye Ba-Ba went down in flames!
Yep, it failed. It was my big Christmas fail. Not only did it not work, it produced two crying, sniveling participants - Bean and me.
All December I told Bean that Santa would bring her presents in exchange for her giving him her Ba-Bas. Some days she would falsely lead me into believing she was on board for such a plan. She would say “uh huh” whenever I would ask her if she was going to leave all of her bottles for Santa to take to other little boys and girls who needed them. “Uh huh, Mommy”.
“Uh huh” indeed!
She was leading me on! Can you believe I got outsmarted by a 23 month-old. Okay, if you can, keep it to yourselves, okay? I can’t believe it. I fell for her assurances hook, line and sinker.
Christmas evening comes and it is time for bed. She asked for her Ba-Ba and we ignored it for awhile by not saying anything. Then she reached Def Con 2. Whining, fake crying, clinging to my legs. I tried to explain to her that Santa took all of her Ba-Bas and left her all of these wonderful presents. I asked her if she wasn’t excited about all of her presents. “No, Mommy!”
[Sidebar - can I just say that this is a phrase I am already tired of? She needs new material.]
We then move up to Def Con 3 - standing in the kitchen pointing up to the cabinet that has been the home of the Ba-Bas and saying “Ba-Ba” over and over. I open the cabinet to show her that there are no more Ba-Bas living in there and we reach Def Con 4.
“BA BA!!! BA BA!!! BA BA!!!” Over and over and over. This is spiced up with the limp-body syndrome, kicking, screaming, crying. It was a heartbreaking show.
I filled up a sippy cup, scooped up the Bean in my arms, and took her to Mommy and Daddy’s bed and we layed down. I thought she will surely cry herself to sleep for maybe ten minutes and then the worst will be behind us.
Def Con 5.
She cried, wailed, begged, pleaded for over 45 minutes. The tears ! The snot! (I did the same for about 40 minutes.)
I just kept telling myself that this was the right thing to do. That this would be the worst night and then she would handle it all better the next day. But I also kept telling myself that this was the last vestige of her babyhood. Gone were the onesies, gone were the pacis, gone was the formula. Gone, gone, gone. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. And while I know it to be true, it is a sad fact. While I am grateful beyond words that my daughter is healthy and growing and meeting her milestones, I miss my precious little baby that needed me for everything. This incarnation of my sweet little bundle of joy tells me “no” more often than any other word and some days makes us beg for her kisses. This incarnation has attitude!
So we both layed there and cried but neither of us ever reached the sweet bliss of sleep. That is not until Daddy came in the bedroom door with a sacred Ba-Ba and saved the day for Bean. He caved! Hubz couldn’t take both his girls crying any more. He wanted peace and quiet to return to his kingdom and he got it. He will now tell anyone that asks that he could care less if she is five and still has her Ba-Ba.
He will have to be battled before Operation Bye-Bye Ba-Ba version 2.0 begins. But I will say that I am grateful for him for bringing back the peace that night and I’m glad it wasn’t me who caved first.