it's sabotage.

I'm desperately trying to get the wee-little one off his pacifier. I got him in the car after daycare, I put Baby Einsteins on the DVD player and he was chilling out. No mention of the pacifier, none at all.

Until we got home, walked in the door and there was a brand spanking new Nunu sitting on the kitchen counter. It didn't even look sucked on. The little Nunu monster saw it before me ... Apparently I don't move that fast when I body-double as a pack mule with 2 back packs, my purse, my work bag and Trevor's daycare bag, usually balancing the mail under my arm and a juice cup tucked under my chin. He took advantage of the situation and did a grab and run.

Then I get this very happy phone call from my husband...."Hey Honey, I found a pacifier under the stove! The cap to the iron fell behind there so I stuck a hanger in there and out came a pacifier!! You said he was starting to lose them."

Seriously...we discussed the ongoing Operation. I told him that we needed to get him off the pacifier. He was getting to the age where he puts them down and loses them.

He only heard that "he loses them". How "man" is that??