Straight From the Bottle

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  • A Tale of Two Binkies

    Once upon a time there were two binkies. One was small and pink and never-used and the other was yellow and clear and, well... NOT never-used if you know what I mean. Ahem. 

     

    ...So here's the thing. Archer still sleeps with his pacifier and he's three. Three-and a half. Okay so he's almost four. And want to know something else? I'm fine with it. I really am. If he wants to suck a pacifier until he's 18 that's totally fine with me. When Archer's over the pacifier? He'll be over the pacifier just like one day he was over Sesame Street. That's what happens, right? Children grow up and out of certain things. Or at least this is what I have been telling myself for the last several months of TRYING with no luck to wean Archer off his beloved paci. Or "nu-nu" as we call them in our house. (It was my goal to only have one kid sucking a pacifier and in diapers at a time.)

     

    Regression

    Maybe I'm not ready to be a "big boy," okay?

     

    Truth be told, it isn't so bad. It's not like Archer's pacifier is hurting anybody. Not even close. So eh... Whatevs. I'm a firm believer in picking my battles as a parent and the pacifier? Isn't my battle to fight. So long as Archer doesn't leave his bed with his binky in his mouth he can keep it as long as he wants to. His blankie, too. Hell! There are nights when I could use a pacifier of my own! Which brings to me to Fable and the other binky. The one that's small and pink and never been used. 

     


    Well, hello there! I'm Fable and I live a binky-free existence!

     

    I've been trying to talk Fable into using a pacifier since birth and the girl will have nothing to do with them. I've tried all shapes, sizes, colors...They all disgust her. She spits them out at me with this sort of "what the hell are you thinking, woman!" look in her eyes. I keep thinking maybe one day she'll change her mind but the girl isn't what one would call "wishy-washy" in her ways...

     

     

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  • Mama Loves Disco

    Today we took Archer to the Knitting Factory Hollywood to participate in the newest, coolest, latest city-parent phenomenon, Baby Loves Disco. As the parent of a very shy little someone, who is not only sensitive to sound but to people, the thought of schlepping him to a DJ spinning baby-party was kinda nerve-wracking. Would he love it? Hate it? Freak the fuck out? Break-dance in the middle of the room and earn the respect of the people? I had no idea.

     
     I also had no idea how I would feel about the place. I have a history of hating any organized parent/child playtime, thus was skeptical. My BFF and Archer's favorite non-uncle, uncle Frank, first attended Baby Loves Disco when it was fresh on the scene. (His boyfriend at the time had two kids.)

     

    Baby Loves Disco, Hollywood

     

    "Dude, Bec. You would not believe this place. It's like a rave for babies," He said. "You've got to bring Archer here."

     

    "A rave for babies? What are you talking about?"

     

    "It's dark and plush and there's a DJ and bubbles coming down from the ceiling and lights and everyone is happy..." 

     

    And he was right. Sure enough, we entered the joint to the sound of screaming kids and music blasting from the DJ booth.  Everyone had their hands in the air and the kids in the hiz-ouse were wearing their pacifiers and waving at the flashing lights with glee.

      

    And it was awesome. Archer only took five seconds to warm up to the balloon-toting crew of toddlers. And I got to show off my super awesome dance moves. Running man, anyone?

     

    Archer Loves Disco

     

    Baby Love Disco, I praise you. Because I've missed dancing. And DJs. And two-fisting cupcakes after getting my dance on. And now I get to do it all again. Once a month. With my favorite dance partner.

      

    *** 



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About the Blogger

rebecca woolf

Rebecca Woolf in LA

Who says becoming a mom means succumbing to laser tattoo removal and moving to the suburbs? This young writer and mother of two gives it to you Straight From the Bottle.

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