Wubbanub surgery

If you scroll through the pictures on this blog, you will likely find numerous pictures of Sera's precious brown monkey Wubbanub.

She's had this Wubbanub since she was about 6 months old. Craig initially named him Mr. Bojangles, but in March, she began to call him Doughno (I'm not sure of the spelling because Sera can't tell me, but his name is pronounced Doe-no or sometimes Duh-no). I'm not sure where he developed this name. Pacifiers are called "noms" in our household and Mr. Bojangles has always been Mr. Bojangles and nothing like "monkey" or "wubbanub."

Doughno has been a constant companion for Sera. It is apparent in our household that Doughno is her favorite item within it. If she ever experiences even a hint of distress, she immediately whines, "Doughno...."

I don't know when we started, but for many, many months, Doughno has been limited to naps and bedtimes. But Sera knows that after bath or after she puts on her jammies, its "Doughno time." She giggles her special Doughno laugh, runs to the drawer where he is housed, pulls him out, giggles, and runs back to us. We have only broken the "nap and bedtime only" rule a few times. (1) Doughno has been Sera's travel buddy through airports and visits in Maryland, Virginia, DC, New York, Ontario, and Illinois. We allow her to have Doughno during airplane rides because he provides a comfort for her and helps us keep her calm and quiet. He also helps with that annoying ear popping. And (2) When Sera had pneumonia. The poor kid just felt miserable all the time. We couldn't keep Doughno from her at that time.

We had decided that Sera would be done with noms when she turned two. We prepped Sera for that day for weeks. We'd quiz her and ask, "What happens when you turn two?" She'd smile and answer, "No noms. No Doughno." But July 3rd came and went and the separation from the noms and Doughno has not gone as easily as we had planned. Online, I read all the sneaky and underhanded ideas that moms have tried to end pacifier use. One mom admitted that she created the tiniest pinhole in each pacifier. Once her son no longer received the satisfaction from the suction, he lost interest. I had actually started to consider it, but this evening, I learned that it would be a futile effort.

About 10 minutes before bedtime, Sera had Doughno and we were watching a downloaded episode of Bubble Guppies (Oh, poor Gil) She then giggled and showed me Doughno.

Sera had somehow managed to nearly chew the tip of Doughno's nom off. I know this was not wear and tear because he was perfectly fine and intact in the morning. Sera then tried to put Doughno in her mouth and I immediately stopped her and asked her for Doughno. She obliged, but I think she regretted the decision because she first whined, then screamed. I explained that Doughno was hurt and that we would have to take his green nom away. Surprisingly, she allowed me to take Doughno away and sit at the coffee table with the sewing kit.

Now, if there is such a thing as the "black thumb" of sewing (or anything involving thread, yarn, etc), I have it. My mother tried for years to teach me to crochet to no avail. My grandmother was determined to teach me how to sew one summer. I was horrible at sewing with my hands and failed miserably even when she bought me a used sewing machine. So, this Doughno business filled me with dread. I have a hard enough time sewing on buttons and now I would have to not only tear apart a toy, but also put him back together (and as close to "normal" as possible). This is one of the times I wished that Aunt Renny lived in town. If she were on that Oceanic flight on Lost, she would inevitably have her knitting bag. I think she would have easily left the island unscathed because she could protect herself with her knitting needles and sewing scissors and then knit some kind of escape mechanism that would make MacGyver impressed. In short, Aunt Renny would probably be able to fix Doughno with her eyes closed. I worried that I would mess him up and break my daughter's heart. But unfortunately, Aunt Renny is over 1000 miles away, so I had to perform this Wubbanub surgery alone.

I readied my surgical tools. 

Success! Nom removed and no fingers were poked. There's no stuffing loss. And Doughno is left with a curious smirk.

Now the hard part. I didn't have beige thread and white is the closest thing I possess. I did not have the patience to Google how to sew things without actually showing the thread, so I winged it (wung it?). This time, fingers were poked. All in the name of love. 

Success! An admirable job (for me)

Then the part I dreaded the most. I did not know how Sera would react or if I would spend the rest of the night consoling her. I went into her room where Craig was playing with her. I sat down at her level and explained that Doughno got hurt and we had to fix him. I warned her that he would be different, but he was still Doughno. I removed Doughno from my pocket. Upon seeing him, she made her Doughno giggle and exclaimed, "Doughno!" She accepted him, but immediately noticed that something was amiss. She stared at him for awhile, bewildered. Then she pulled him to her mouth and began to chew where the nom once was. She took him out of her mouth and stared at him again. She then pointed to a nom she found earlier this evening and requested, "Mommy, put back." But I do not possess the skills or equipment to sew through a nom. So Sera picked up the nom and held Doughno in her other hand and appeared quite content. 

 I stood thoroughly amazed. I had permanently altered her favorite toy and she seemed almost unphased. This is the same child who cried in the car because she had the wrong color Goldfish cracker and "Love is an Open Door" did not immediately follow "First Time in Forever." The same child who screamed when I informed her that I could not remove her pants without taking off her shoes first. The same child who threw herself on the floor because I started Aladdin where we left off, rather than at the beginning. Kids are confusing.