A Mother’s Ode to the Amazing Binky


Dear Binky,

You have been the little helper every mother needs and wants. When you are around, the world is quiet and peaceful, the colors are brighter, and I am actually able to drink my coffee in peace. You came from some little plastic mold and yet you seem as if I birthed you myself. Our connection is greater than words. Oh, how I love you. When you are lost my life becomes apocalyptic. I scream for you as if I have lost an arm, and my husband and I look at each other like we have three breaths left between us… who will take the last?


You, and your sneaky little trick of always being lost. How does one born of plastic sprout legs and run? Rest assured you are only to be found again at any Target for a steal of $6.99 for a flimsy piece of plastic perfection, as if waiting and smiling at your hold over me. It’s pathetic, your hold on me.  I am an Avent junky, frantically barreling down aisle C11 in Target, frantically itching and slapping my forearms in search for the only pacifier my toddler has become a name brand snob to.

Honestly binky, you’re like a frenemy or (better yet) that one lady at work that you sit next to and never get along with, but have to be cool with cause your job and livelihood depends on her. Oh binky, so many names for you- paci, pacifier, binky, ni-ni, but mostly known to me and my heart as my ride or die. Let’s be real here, I’d refer to you as my best friend.

Oh binky, when I find you in the bottom of my purse it takes everything in me not to gag as I pull you out covered in what appears to be dirt, goldfish dust, and that one piece of anonymous black hair that is curled around you. We’ve formed this bond where when I find you on the floor I just clean you off myself, like a ring pop because when my kid is crying in the middle of a store, well ‘ain’t nobody got time for that sanitizing nonsense. When other moms tell me, “my kid never took to the binky” I nod with a glazed look over my face … this does not compute.

While I’m singing your praises, can we have some real talk about why you wouldn’t stay inside my kid’s mouth from months 1-4? Every time we would hear a peep from under the swaddle my husband and I would look at each other like the world depended on getting you back in the baby’s mouth before he really woke up for good. Sheesh, reliving this is giving me the sweats and aches…not cool of you dude, always keeping me on my toes.

Oh binky, the oral fixation you’ve teased my son with makes me so nervous- because truthfully sometimes I look down and see a baby Al Capone in Carters, or some 1920’s dude with a cigar hanging from his mouth sleeping. “The Pacifier” sounds like an Art Deco gangster. But, “Will I regret my dependence on you?”- is like asking myself “Will I regret another glass of wine? Another pair of black leggings? Another slice of pizza?” I think not.

Binky, you weird little thing– you’ve got me through so many late nights.  You’re like the newer version of my college roommate (except I’m not the one that’s vomiting for drinking too fast… and my incoherence lasts into the morning when I wake up). You’ve also been quite the toy… remember when I accidentally gave you a snip before I knew how to properly tear open the box? Mazel Tov!  You’re so versatile.  You’re the leather jacket of baby accessories!

In my lifetime, with a one-year-old, I have bought roughly 80 of you and your brothers, all to be lost in the same place that hair ties and bobby-pins go to die. In that graveyard somewhere in my house with all of my money, and roughly every single dollar bin item that seemed like a good idea when entering Target.

Some moms buy you attached to bootleg beanie babies, others put a little leash on you, but we keep it straight you and me. We are straight shooters, right out of the womb. Binky, thank you for always being there for me when I can actually find you, thanks for no harsh feelings when I tried you myself and was absolutely weirded out by the feeling. You’ve made my last year so much easier and helped our entire family settle down.

Binky, oh sweet, binky- thanks for it all.

PS. Please stay tuned for my next post in 3 months, “How do we quit you?”


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