The Binky Bunny: Debrief

As it turns out, what I thought would be a traumatic, fit-inducing upheaval of Weston's routine went... well... fine. Just fine. Ha! How 'bout that? I guess you could say that the Binky Bunny (a.k.a. Easter Bunny) Experiment was 110% successful. That leads me to believe that either Weston is actually very malleable (unbeknownst to me), or the binky simply was not as essential as I'd always thought.

Anyway, here's the summary of Binky Bunny Theory:

(1) Wonderful, magical Binky Bunny requests binkies;
(2) Fascinated child relinquishes binkies;
(3) Binky Bunny delivers gifts and/or treats in return;
(4) Delighted child forgets all about binkies forever and ever.

And here's our recap of Binky Bunny Practicum:

First, the night before, I wrote out two notes to Weston from the Binky Bunny, and decorated them with sparkles. I also decorated a big manila envelope, into which Weston would theoretically deposit all of his binkies. Then, I assembled his Easter basket, which would be the "reward" for giving up his binkies (...nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone, heh heh).

Incidentally, this is the first Easter basket that I've ever made. Tim and I don't make baskets for each other, and we skipped giving Weston a basket for his first two Easters. So, I really had no idea what I was doing. I presumed that Easter grass and various eggs would be required, and that after that, you could pretty much put in a bunch of random stuff. So, that's what I did:

(P.S. Don't buy that bouncy ball at Target... the one with the little tiny balls inside. It's as heavy as a little bowling ball, and it really hurts when a toddler throws it at you. FYI.)

So, the next morning before getting Weston, I placed the envelope and the first note just outside the front door, and I hid his Easter basket in the clothes hamper. Once everyone was up, I "heard" a knock at the door, and went running into the living room with Weston in tow, exclaiming, "Weston! What was that?!! Do you think it was the Easter Bunny?!!" I opened the door to expose the note and the envelope, and instantly Weston looked disappointed. I think he was hoping for toys and treats right off the bat, since at this point in his life he's well aware that that's what the Easter Bunny is all about.

So, I attempted to excitedly read the magical note while Weston let loose with a mini-tantrum and refused to listen:

With his wriggling and fussing, it became absolutely impossible to read the note to him, so I ended up just telling him what to do: "Weston, if you put your binkies in this envelope, then the Easter Bunny will give you chocolate!"

Finally it looked like it clicked, and I said, "C'mon!" as we ran back to his room. I made sure that it was Weston who physically placed all of the binkies (both from his crib and from within his dresser) into the envelope, so that I'd be able to remind him later (when he became frightfully upset) that he'd voluntarily given all his binkies to the Easter Bunny that morning.

Once he'd placed all the binkies into the envelope, we ran back out to the living room and put the full envelope just outside the door. I carried Weston to another room to get a tissue while Tim removed the envelope and replaced it with note #2. Then I heard him knock on the front door, and I said, "Weston!! There was another knock!! Do you think it was the Easter Bunny again?!! Let's go check!!!"

We ran back out and opened the door, and again Weston looked disappointed. (Hahaha!) I opened the note and read it as quickly as I could to get to the good part at the end:

I said, "Weston, the hamper in the hallway!! Should we go check the hamper in the hallway??!!" FINALLY he looked genuinely thrilled, and we ran back to the hamper, opened the lid for him to peek in, and then pulled out his Easter basket. (Sigh.) Success!

We didn't get many good pictures of him exploring it, but he was definitely in heaven (with a mouthful of M&Ms):

So, the easy part was over. I assumed that the hard part would come at naptime, when he asked me for his binky, only to learn that it was long gone. (And that, of course, would be followed by a screaming fit of rage.) And as it turned out...

-Sunday naptime: Nothing.
-Sunday bedtime: Not a peep.
-Monday naptime: Nada.
-Monday bedtime: Zilch.

Seriously! Since our little Binky Bunny Experiment yesterday morning, he has NEVER asked me for a binky! Not ONCE!! And he has never complained about not having it, and he hasn't even had any more trouble falling asleep than he usually does. So, am I crazy? Was this a brilliant technique, or was Weston's reliance on binkies minimal at best? I have no idea! I thought it was going to cause so much turmoil, but apparently all the worry was for nought.

So... the conclusion. This little pacifying device, which has been such a blessing and yet such a curse, is now finally out of our lives. (Haha, well, until the next baby, I suppose.) And until then, all I can say is, good riddance, you little sucker. And thank you, from the bottom of my heart.