update

I will be the first to admit that I am preoccupied with what others think.  I am very easily swayed by the judgements, rather real or imagined, of my peers.  I am certainly my hardest critic, yet it is those other voices, the ones of my peers, that can paralyze me.  As I write this now I find it somewhat laughable that I am still focused on the opinions of others.  After losing Harper, I lost everything.  Almost myself.  I didn't give a damn about one.single.thing.  Nothing mattered.  Certainly not what people thought of me.  Of course looking back now, I have no doubt that those who knew me thought I was crazy.  And I was.  Yet now here I am in a cocoon of sanity, and I drive myself crazy with the little stuff.  And it's all little stuff.
Taking away the binky was an epic fail.  On a scale of one to ten....it was off the charts.  Seriously it didn't even register.  Vacation was wonderful.  The boys had their binkies all through vacation, nothing changed.  When our plane landed in Louisville, we secretly took the binkies away.  We came home, gave the boys a bath and put them in bed. They asked for the binky.  We told them that the airport lost them.  There was no whimpering, rather immediately there was glass breaking, eardrum rupturing screaming.  They were angry.  Pissed.  Beckett demanded that I call the airport and ask them to give them back.  I told him the airport was closed and that we would call in the morning.  They didn't fall asleep that night until close to 3am.  The next day was bad.  Really really bad.  There was no nap taking.  I had two angry tired inconsolable boys.  Bedtime was horrendous.  My children who have never required help falling asleep, not even needing, wouldn't let me leave the room.  Wanted me to lay beside them and hold their hands.  And just when they were drifting off to sleep one would whimper that he needed the binky.  It was close to 2am before they fell asleep. The following day was even worse.  I was functioning on fumes.  And I don't function well like that, to put it mildly, I was a bitch.  Nap time came and they were losing their minds.  Seriously they were delirious.  And hateful.  Hard to imagine, but yes, toddlers can be mean.  I couldn't take it.  So I rang our doorbell and surprise!  The airport delivered the binkies back.  Unfortunately the airplane ran over them, (I cut the tops off).  I gave them to the boys.  At first there was this look of pure bliss, but after they put it in their mouth, they were pissed.  Really really really mad.  So mad that they threw up.  Then I started crying.  That night they fell asleep close to 1am.  The next day I worked.  I must have looked pretty bad because everybody was asking me if I was okay.   No!  I am most certainly not okay.  I'm not sleeping.  My kids aren't sleeping. And as a result of this I have become a bitch.  My children have turned into the spawn of Satan.  And currently I hate my husband.  All because of a binky.
One of the doctors overheard me talking about the binky situation.  He came over to me and asked why was I doing that?  Taking away the binky?  I told him because it was time.  He asked me how did I know it was time?  I told him cause I just knew it was.  I don't know any other 3 1/2 year olds with binkies.  He paused and then he asked me if every single child follows the same path.  Are all children created exactly the same?  Did I walk at the exact same time as my best friend?  Did I pee in the potty at the same age as Mother Theresa?  I didn't answer.  He asked if I was more concerned with what others thought or the actual health of my children.  Because my children need sleep.  When babies sleep, brains grow.  No sleep, no growth.  He then explained that my boys have only lived on this earth for three years.  And in that three years, if I am not there, the only comfort they get is from their binky.  And for no justifiable reason I took that comfort away.  He asked me what I do to relax.  I told him that I read before bed every night.  Imagine now that I couldn't read.  I had nothing to relax me.  I was just supposed to crawl into bed and close my eyes.  And sleep.  No way.  I need that down time. He told me I just took that down time away from them.  He then said that assuming my children have no serious mental deficits that he has never ever seen a high school graduate accept his diploma with a binky in his mouth.  EVER.  He said that the AAP sets guidelines, yet those guidelines are merely a reference.  That every child will develop at his or her own pace.  That there is no right or wrong in timing.  But that offering comfort and security to a child far outweighs the pressure of what society deems acceptable in binky obliteration.
Whew.  I cried.  First I cried because I was relieved.  Secondly I cried because I was too worried about what others thought about my parenting that my boys suffered.  I called Chris.  I told him I wanted to bring the binky back.  But only at bedtime.  Not anytime else during the day.  The binky must stay in their bedroom.  But if they are feeling sad or hurt or scared they can go into their bedroom and feel safe.  Chris said, "I absolutely agree."
That night the boys slept for twelve hours.
Whew.  That was a lot.  And people might think that I coddle my children.  That they are much too big for a binky.  And, let me take a deep breath, that's fine.  I can't worry about what others think, that takes up too much energy.  Energy that should be spent on my boys.  And loving them.  In twenty years in won't matter that they had a binky when they were 3 1/2, but it will matter that I stopped judging myself so that I could love them more.  And in judging myself less, I will no longer be susceptible to the judgement of others.  And in turn hopefully, judge less.  It's all baby steps.  Tiny little leaps that can change this world.  And like I said earlier, it's all small stuff.  Nobody died.