I think Abe is psychic.  Or at least he knows when change is lurking in the air, that there’s a tremor in the force, that the tide is turning – not in his favor.  Except he can use this uncanny ability for his good, which is usually not for the good of the mama.

Case in point:  Abe loves his pacifier.  JJ enjoyed his, but Abe *loves* the plastic oral fixation stopper upper.  Most of the time he looks like this:

Because otherwise he looks like this:

Yes, that’s an old picture, but we’ve had to refrain from posting such images due to complaints from the peanut gallery (aka. the Gran who says, “it just breaks my heart!” although if the images came with audio like those lovely cards at Hallmark, she might find the amusement behind the yowls).

One time, around his birthday, I thought:  it’s time for the pacifier to go.  He promptly got the stomach flu.  And you can’t take one’s security piece of plastic away from one when one is yarfing, can one?

Another time I thought, “Yes, we’ll swap it out now.”  He popped about four teeth in three days.  And yet again, “May the plastic be gone!”  Spewing stomach virus from hell, followed by an outbreak of hives (apparently one has inherited granddaddy’s love of baths, the outdoors, and tendency towards melon allergies as well).

I can’t imagine it will be much of an issue, the pacifier detox.  The child doesn’t seem to have any documented tendencies towards oral fixations.

Nope, none at all.

Unlike his mama (and his mama’s family:  I’m not being mean, I’m just stating facts.  With my mouth that one of my friends in high school commented, “Dren, I can see all of your teeth!”  Not scarring at all.  ), Abe has a teeny tiny little button of a mouth.  Isn’t it sweet?

And yet I’m thinking he may be ready for the next season of America’s Got Talent with his freakish ability to shove unusually large or cumbersome objects into small yet quite stretchy places.  For instance, one would think that this large red object would not fit into such a delicate, petite mouth.

One would be wrong.

And it doesn’t encumber from other important work.

Another one on hand for backup (never know when the photog snaps into mama mode and swipes away the goodness).

Wondering:  if one is good, what would two at once be like?

He’s not discriminating:  paper’s just as good as painted wood (and a little more ecofriendly).

[Photo credit:  JJ]

Round things, papery things, long things, it’s all good.  He’s like a connoisseur.

[Photo Credit:  JJ.]

Don’t be distracted by the grin and the dimples, although they are awfully distracting.  He’s already been deemed “Future Trouble Maker” by old people at the store.  And cashiers.  And nursery workers.  And blog readers.

Oh, look!  How sweet!  Abe must be smiling cause he’s feeling the love.

Aw:  wait, for it . . . . wait for it . . . .

[Yes, I know that is a choking hazard.  I, out of all people, am aware of how many choking hazards are in my house, my car, the library, the grocery store, and many, many other places.  If you have a complaint, feel free to file it with "The Department of People who Have Time To Care, ATTN:  Gran"]

So someday soon Operation:  Ridding of the Pacifier will begin.  His brother will be right there to encourage him along in his detox with tools of love and support.

Someday this is what we will look like.  A little cooky, but plastic free.  I mean, his brother’s pacifier free, right?

After that, we’ll work on the closing of the mouth (one thing at a time, eh?).

Although that may take longer than anticipated as well . . .

Note:  I said JJ was pacifier-free; I did not say anything beyond that.

I have great hopes; yes, I do.

Hope springs eternal.

Daily Drivel