sell out

For the past twenty four days (already?!), I've allowed what I want for my son to cloud what he wants for himself. Daniel wants to feel peaceful and calm, and I don't want him to have one of those godawful pieces of plastic crap sticking out of his mouth, but for him to have those warm and fuzzed up feelings for more time than I'm able to give them to him, I bought Daniel a pacifier - and folks, they do, as the name suggests, pacify. like magic, in fact. Of course, the alternative name for these tools of the devil is 'dummies' which in my opinion, is kind of self explanatory.

Anyway, the point is that today, I gave my son his first addiction.

Next? Heroin.

Thing is, drug deals aside, it's so easy to keep Daniel happy. If he's bleating, all I need do is touch his little forehead for him to hit pause, and to pick him up and tuck him under my chin for him to sigh happily and chill the fuck out. There are times though, because there is only me, that I can't tend to the mundane tasks of, for example and not limited to, unpacking the car, packing the groceries, doing the mountain of laundry left over from the nappy change this morning that took us through three (THREE!) changes of clothes and four nappies, eating, showering or brushing my teeth AND keep him from feeling lost and alone.

So while I sit here feeling like a total failure because I can't keep him in happyland all on my own for all of the time, and because I threw away my principles when I bought the damn pacifier, Daniel is sitting beside me sucking the living crap out of that thing, and the blissed out look on his face is telling me that my principles are full of shit.