We were flying home so I bought a couple of them for the plane ride. I was nervous. I vowed to trash them as soon as we got home. That was February. In my defense I haven't bought any more since the trip. There's just been one lonely monster that refused to disappear like any other self-respecting pacifier would.
So I cut the last monster, and the past two nights have been cold turkey part two. The tantrums were much, much, bigger with an eleven month old than they were with a six month old. She struggled, she squirmed, she screamed in my arms, but eventually she went to sleep.
Pacifiers have a now permanent ban in the Rowe household. I mean it this time. (Honest!)