The Daily Nusz

Big news in the Nusz household.  Savannah is done with her pacifier!  Huge news, because if you knew Savannah, you’d know how dependent she’s been on that “nippy” over the years.  When she turned approximately a year old, her nippy was designated for use only while in her bedroom, but still, every time she got upset or needed some “me” time, she went up to her room to hang out with her pink blanket and her nippy.

Now it’s gone.  In the garbage.  Thrown in there by Ms. Savannah herself.  How, you ask?  Is Tara that good of a parent? 

Well, for the last few weeks, we’ve been making comments like, “You’re such a big girl.  Soon you’re going to be all done with your nippy.”  “Nippies start to break when as we get bigger, then you’ll be all done.”  About 3 days ago, I cut a hole her in nippy with some scissors (My mom did this with my brother Nathan. Pure genius).  When she sucked on it, she immediately knew something was different, and showed me the hole.  I thought I had hidden all the other nippies (taking them out of a drawer in her dresser and hiding them, just in case).  When she said, “Mommy, there’s more nippies in the drawer.”  I said, “I don’t think so”, but she insisted on checking.  The little booger found one!  So, I just let her have it.  Mysteriously, a hole appeared in the second one yesterday.  She found it, tested it out, and immediately notified me about the hole, suggesting that we buy a new one at the store.  I reminded her that since she was almost three, her nippies were all going to get broken, so we couldn’t buy a new one at the store.  Then, we went to school.  While her back was turned, I took my handy-dandy scissors and oops! — another hole!  I asked her teacher, Ms. Brittany, if any other students had a pacifier, and she said no.  I asked Ms. Brittany to make suggestions to Savannah about how she was a big girl, and to point out that no other kids in the class still have a nippy (peer pressure at work here). 

Last night, I left to work out, and Kevin put Savannah to bed.  Apparently, she tried out the broken nippy, then said, “Daddy, give this nippy to Mommy and tell her I’m all done”.  WHAT?  Ceremoniously, they threw it in the garbage.

Kevin called me as I was leaving the gym.  He told me about the nippy situation.  I said, “Did you get the other broken nippy from her room?”  He was like, “Um, no.”   Well, since she was sleeping, we didn’t want to bother her, but I had my doubts that she was truly nippy-free. 

This morning, Kevin entered her room, and she immediately went to her dresser and took out the other broken nippy, and together, they threw it in the trash.  I asked her if she had used the other nippy last night, and she said no.  I believe her.

So, today we are going to buy a cake to celebrate, “Good-Job-Savannah, You’re-Done-With-Your-Nippy Day”!

Big news.  Proud Mom here.

Now let’s just see how her coping strategies are when she decides it’s tantrum-time.  Yikes!

__________________________________________EDIT____________________________________________________

Kevin says I “stole his thunder” by not stressing his prominent parental role throughout this situation.  When Savannah told Kevin to give her nippy to me, he suggested that she throw it in the trash.  He strongly feels that if he wasn’t there at that particular moment, she’d probably still be clutching her broken nippy in her sweaty little hands.  Well, at least until college. 

So, good job, Kev.  You’re the best parent ever.

(FYI–I initially wrote, “You’re the best dad ever” and he made me change it to “You’re the best parent ever”.  If you want to appeal directly to Kevin in hopes that this censorship will be halted, please feel free to do so).

It’s beginning to become common knowledge that Savannah is, well, a klutz.  I think it’s pretty rare that she takes more than a dozen steps without stumbling at best, and doing a faceplant at worst.   I mean, I’ve seriously considered taking her in for an evaluation to see if the poor child has a brain tumor.  I vary between laughing at her creative ways of falling, and despairing over the fact that she cannot be relied on to get from point A to point B without some sort of bodily trauma.  To my shame, I’ve pleaded with her to “just walk normally”.

Some recent examples:

1.  On Easter Sunday, we were invited to our next door neighbor’s house for lunch.  We had happened to make cookies that morning, so we brought some over.  Because I was carrying Dec, his diaper bag, his portable high-chair, and a bag of toys, I asked Savannah to carry the plastic-wrapped plate of cookies.  I explained to her that she had to walk very carefully, and not fall.  She said she could do it.  And surprisingly, she did!  No falling.  When we arrived (this house is right next door—less than 50 steps from our front door to theirs), the plate looked a little funny, and the saran wrap was a little rumpled, but it was okay.  We visited for a bit, then left.  As we walked home, I found two cookies on their front porch, four on the driveway, four in the street, and two more about 2 feet from where I first handed her the plate!  And she carefully collected them all on the way home, completely surprised and delighted that they were there, and preceeded to eat them all.  No five-second rule for her.

2.  She is no longer allowed to carry anything while going up or down the stairs.  Enough said.  Rugburn can speak for itself.

3.  Shoe selection is crucial.  Any extra wiggle will cause immediate peril.  And she’ll take you down with her.

4.  A sampling of comments from others:

Woman at the mall:   “She’s a clumsy one, bless her heart.” (This comment came from a old lady with a walker! She thinks my kid is clumsy?)

Ellen (I think it was her): “She’s pretty good at falling, isn’t she?”  Um, yes.

Kelly:  “Wow, you don’t even react when she falls.”  Nope.

Kevin (yes, her father):  “She’s totally going to be picked last in gym class.” 

So, would making her wear a helmet be considered good parenting or bad parenting?