Susan, if you're still worried about her not speaking go ahead and take her to a speech therapist and get her evaluated.

It won't cost you anything and you'll know either way.

I think a Wolfram and Hart onesie would kick ass.

'Specially if it were run by Paul Wolfram and Pleiades Hart.

Ben gave up his pacifier mostly on his own, sometime when he was two-ish. I am nearly certain it was before Julia came along. One day, there was a tech. at our house, installing something on our old PC that Scott needed for work--is there such a thing as an ISDN line, because I seem to remember something like that.

Anyhow, back then, the PC lived in the basement. I put Ben down for a nap. He wanted his "pas". I brought him one. He didn't like that one. He asked for another. He didn't like that one. Lather rinse repeat, until he had 5 pacifiers in his crib, and hated them all. I can still see them--four blue ones, and one green one. I told him he needed the nap, whether he liked the pacifiers or not.

While he was sleeping, I took all the pacifiers and ducked them. When he woke up, he asked where the pacifiers went. I said I didn't see them. He asked where they went. I said, "What do you think?" He decided the man in the cellar had taken them, and that was that.

With Julia, we had to make a ceremony out of it, and she threw it in the trash on her third birthday. I hated that frigging thing. I think she still doesn't talk quite right because of it.

With Chris and the pacifier, Scott was my nemesis. Chris was already the world's best baby. He really didn't need a pacifier, once he outgrew the strong sucking urge. Most of the time, he just had it dangling from his lips, sort of like a rocker with a cigarette, during a concert. I would duck it away, all day. Scott would come home, and put it in his mouth. It didn't matter if Chris hadn't cried, or asked for it. If Scott saw a kid's mouth, he stuck a damned binky in it.

Of course, over time, Chris came to need it psychologically, because he'd become accustomed to it. So I set a rule, "Binkies are for naps and sleeping." If he asked for it in the day, I'd ask him what the rule was, and he'd recite it back at me, and go on his merry way. Every weekend, holiday, and vacation, Scott would end up giving him the binky and undoing all my work.

When we moved in here, Chris was three and a half. I stuck the binkies in the freezer, and never mentioned them. It was a quite few days before anyone, even Chris, realized Chris hadn't had his binky. I think there's still one in there.

I think a Wolfram and Hart onesie would kick ass.

'Specially if it were run by Paul Wolfram and Pleiades Hart.

...when they got together, it was moider...

Only, you know, slimmer and less English.

Oh, sure, rub it in.

Cash, Lily only really likes this one: [link]

I can pick one up at Birth and Beyond and stick it with your stuff, if you'd like. She's rejected every other one we've tried.

Those are the bink's that Em prefers. We have a couple of Avent ones that do in a pinch, but for the most part, she only chews on them.

She's getting really agressive, it's funny. She screeched and just tears stuff up with loud grunts. And tearing hear out of mommy's head and daddy's face is her new favorite thing.

Susan, if you're still worried about her not speaking go ahead and take her to a speech therapist and get her evaluated.

I'll talk to DH about it. It seems like in the last week or so she's verbalizing a bit more; also her dominant mood of late seems to be frustration. Both of which make me suspect that she's working something out in her mind, and that it may be talking. So maybe we should give it a little more time to see what develops.

Based on how she responds to simple directions and generally communicates non-verbally, I'm pretty sure it's not a comprehension issue. And really, I do think she's smart--she's had such an observant, alert air about her from the first weeks on. It's just that I can't do like my own mom could do with me, and point to all the things she's done early.

I guess the reason I was concerned about wanting her to be smart is that I'm very aware of that nasty parental desire to make your kids in your image, only better. There's this part of me that wants Annabel to be just like me, all brainy and early-reading and active imagination, only I'll make sure she gets in the perfect school to nurture her gifts and get her lessons in whatever she wants to explore, etc. Of course, being aware that's a potential problem is probably half the battle, and I have enough dreams of my own left that I don't need to live through her. It'd just be cool if there's some overlap in how we think and what interests us--there's so much I'd like to show her.

It'd just be cool if there's some overlap in how we think and what interests us--there's so much I'd like to show her.

I think that's only natural, Susan. Certainly, that's how I view my feelings toward my hypothetical son.

Plei! I forgot to tell you this!

Last week when I stayed home from work with Em, we went to Macy's so I could get recolorstamped at Prescriptives. She has never looked so enraptured than by all the make-up. The colors and the process. She was just so intent on seeing everything.