Tooflee Comes

Last night Grace slept without her binky for the first time in nearly three years. This has been a long time coming. Over the last six months Craig and I have discussed how to part with her binky numerous times. When I would look at Grace's face in profile I could see how her front teeth were being pulled forward, and then there was the "binky mouth" issue, otherwise known as morning breath. Grace would greet me in the morning, binky in mouth, and give me a kiss. Faced with a sweet and somewhat foul smell, I would murmur "Grace, let's go brush your teeth." The binky needed to go.

This week Craig and I devised a plan of sorts to get rid of the binky, and on Wednesday Grace received a letter in the mail:

Dear Grace,

You probably don’t know who I am, but I have known you since you were a baby. I am your binky fairy. My name is Tooflee. When you were born I delivered your first binky to you. It was white and yellow, and I know that you loved it very much. Since then I have brought you binkies that were green, red, and purple.

The other day when I was out delivering binkies to another baby I ran into the birthday fairy. Her name is Persephone. She told me that you recently had a birthday and turned three years old. Congratulations. I am writing to you now to let you know that since you are three, it is time to return your binkies to me. I know that you love your binkies very much, but all three year olds must return their binkies so that new babies can enjoy them. When you give me your binkies I will deliver them to a new baby who needs one.

I will come to your house on Friday night. Please leave your binkies on the table in the living room. In exchange for your binkies I will leave a small gift for you.

I know that you are a very big girl now. You are a big sister and are potty trained. You should be very proud of yourself. I know that your mommy and daddy are very proud of you too.

I love you.

Your binky fairy,

Tooflee

We discussed Tooflee for the rest of the week. Grace seemed excited about the possibility of getting a gift, of having a fairy visit. She loves fairies (it must be a girl thing, I swear we didn't introduce this to her), so the idea of a visit from a benevolent binky fairy seemed like a plausible means of binky departure.

Last night as we readied Grace for bed, she popped the pacifier into her mouth. We reminded her about Tooflee's visit, and she said "but I don't want to give up my binky." Craig reminded her that Tooflee would be bringing a present, and Grace gave that some thought and then replied "Okay, let's go downstairs." We went down to watch Grace deposit two binkies on the coffee table. Craig asked her if she needed a moment to say goodbye, and she said no. In reality Craig and I needed a moment. What we hadn't quite counted on was our sadness at the passing of the binky, as though it were one last tangible item of babyhood that once gone would mean Grace was truly growing up. Up the stairs she went, and Craig took her to bed. In the dark she asked him for her binky once, and again he reminded her of Tooflee's visit. This seemed to be enough to pacify her and she fell asleep shortly before eight pm.

At 6:15 this morning we heard Grace's bedroom door open. We listened as she descended the stairs, turned on a light, and walked into the living room. We kept ourselves at the top of the stairs, feeling that she needed to keep this moment of discovery to herself. We heard the crinkling and tearing of gift wrap and then Grace's voice said "Ahh." This was quickly followed by "Mommy, come downstairs. Tooflee left me a present."

In her great wisdom, Tooflee had brought Grace a family of dolls for her dollhouse. We gave Grace the house when Julia was born, and just last month Grace told me that she needed dolls for it. We looked at a catalog together, and I asked her which dolls she preferred. She pointed to the African American doll family. This wasn't much of a surprise. Her favorite people at school are black, and we live in a predominantly African American neighborhood.

We've been playing with the dolls all morning long. She has assigned Craig and me different dolls (the little girl is obviously Grace, and the little boy has been gender reassigned as Julia). At one point during our play, she paused and said "now I want my binkies back." Craig told her that she would have to give the dolls back then and she reconsidered. It's really too early to say how all of this will go. We are hoping for the best. I can't help but feel a little nostalgic and somewhat sad. Like so many milestones she has passed, I feel that odd mixture of pride, relief, and sadness. Oh Grace, my girl, I love you so.