Dummy Mummy.

About two months ago I took Henry’s dummies away from him. It was very dramatic. We buried them in the garden like we were at the funeral for a member of the Royal Family, and that evening the dummy fairy came to take them away leaving a shiny new toy car in their place. The first night without them, I was like Meg Ryan in sleepless in Seattle, except with no love interest, no perfectly styled fringe, and Seattle was actually the fiery depths of hell. Somewhere around the 2am mark I was so desperate for him to sleep, I literally stuck my finger in his mouth like a makeshift dummy and hoped that even though he’s smart enough to calculate the square root of 592 before I could, by some miracle he would pass out. He bit my finger.

So skip to about a week later, and all of a sudden he starts settling himself. Now a normal person, with a normal two year old would probably be ecstatic. Nope not me. I was instantly suspicious. This is a kid who hasn’t slept since he came into this world and simultaneously ruined my social life and my body, and all of a sudden he’s sleeping beauty? I wasn’t buying it. Obviously the next step was to launch a full blown investigation. Old mate retired for the night, and instead of enjoying the new silent bliss that had been rocking my world all week; I made myself a cup of tea and planted myself outside his bedroom door in prime position to fulfil my childhood fantasy of being Carmen out of Spy Kids.

The first ten minutes was unremarkable. He lay on his bed kicking his legs in the air and counting to ten, skipping number five every time – standard. For a second there I considered going to bed, and even momentarily felt guilty for criminalising my own son who appeared to have become an angel overnight. Then it happened. I witnessed him with my own eyes as he commando rolled out of bed, darted laser beam eyes toward the door to make sure the coast was clear, threw an ottoman clear out of his way like he was Clark Kent, opened my drawer and pulled out a flipping DUMMY.

My concerns are as follows;

1. He’s essentially a Junkie.

2. He’s not only had the forethought to have a secret stash of dummies, but has been RETURNING said dummies to his drug drawer and pushing the ottoman back before he wakes me up in the morning.

3. It took me a week to discover this.

I decided it was time to put my foot down. I took back the dummy, and my authority. And an hour later I was laying on the floor next to his throne and patting his royal bum until he drifted off to sleep.

So who’s the sucker now? 🤦🏼‍♀️