Thumbsucker!

Oh the thumb-sucker’s thumb
May look wrinkled and wet
And withered, and white as the snow,
But the taste of a thumb
Is the sweetest taste yet
(As only we thumb-sucker’s know).
by Shel Silverstein

I have a confession to make:

Max was a thumbsucker.

Depending on who you ask, that was an awful oversight on my part or a natural stage of developement. Believe me, I’ve heard all about it. Midwives encourage thumbsucking in infants, as opposed to pacifiers, which can interfere with breastfeeding. The American Academy of Pediatrics classifies thumbsucking as a normal behavior until the age of five at which point it can be detrimental to jaw alignment and social development. Our pediatric dentist determined that it was a natural behavior which only causes temporary alignment issues until the child is six.

On the other side were some family members and, of course, everybody’s favorite: all-knowing strangers. According to these people, I was causing my child extreme damage by allowing him to suck his thumb. He would need braces/ jaw surgery/ psychological counseling/ behavioral therapy and resocialization to reverse the evil effects of my lax parenting. I tried to reason with some of my critics, offering up scores of evidence that thumbsucking was not a problem at Max’s tender age.

It is no surprise that unreasonable people don’t listen to reason. They continued to judge me and occasionally even rudely plucked my baby’s thumb from his mouth.

Hmm, I wonder why Max felt the nervous need to suck his thumb around those people?

All of this brings me to the present tense: Max is no longer a thumbsucker. At his last dental appointment, his dentist noticed a bit more plaque on his lower front teeth. She hypothesized that this might be due to his thumbsucking, since Jack did not have the same problem. (Jack: pacifier until I took it away at 11 months.) She told me that I should start trying to wean him from his thumb,

“Why didn’t you say this at his last check-up?” I asked.

“Well, he was only two then,” she said, purusing his chart. “At that developmental stage, he wouldn’t have been able to understand how and why to change his behavior. Because we are starting to see the plaque build up now, you should start to gently let him know that’s not the right thing to do. At three, he is capable of understanding right from wrong.”

I asked her to speak to him, since Max has a natural respect for authority and medical figures. Then, we went home.

Prior to this appointment Andres and I had remarked at how Max had naturally curtailed his thumbsucking. He only used it when he felt super shy, which was happening less and less as his confidence grew.

At home I sat with Max and explained that he was a big boy now and shouldn’t suck his thumb. He was using the potty. He had a brand new twin bed. He was learning to write his ABCs. Everything in his life celebrated his growing maturity. Thumbsucking was for babies and he was a big boy.

And that was it.

All the scorn! All the drama! All the horrific predictions of therapy, orthodontic devises, and nasty-tasting nailpolish! All of it served no purpose other than to torture me.

Why do people do that to mothers?

I realize that this could have been a complicated and difficult task. It could have required more intervention. But, it didn’t. I tucked this lesson in the midst of a huge developmental leap and it worked.

It was actually a sweet bonding experience. Max gives me a conspiritorial smile before he reminds me that he is not supposed to suck his thumb as he settles down for a nap. The few times I gently reached for his hand as it automatically rose towards his mouth garnered a smile and a knowing look from him. We are a team and our mission is to help him grow up. We are not constantly at odds with one another. I don’t need to fight my son. Weaning him from his thumb was not adversarial in the least. I waited until he was ready and then simply guided him to correct behavior.

I shared this experience with another mom, who told me she gets the same judgement about co-sleeping and extended breastfeeding. She weans her children from both when they turn two. Unfortunately, that means about two years of constant criticism for her. She is on her third child now and has yet to have a problem with the transitioning her kids.

Mothers know best. We know our children. We know ourselves. We know the intricate and intimate details that make our families work.

Isn’t it strange that most people try desperately to get out of jury duty and yet walk around all day as judge and jury to those we encounter?

Ode to Max’s Left Thumb

Thumbsucking is a natural behavior for babies and people’s reactions to it were as general as that statement. But Max’s thumb was always specific to me. He sucked his left thumb, wrinkly with a peeling nail I trimmed twice a week.

I remember tucking him into bed at six months and slipping a pacifier into his mouth, only to have him spit it back out. He did this three more times until I learned my lesson. He drew his own thumb to his mouth and snuggled his face against his crib’s bumper and fell asleep.

I’ll never forget the moment he discovered he had two thumbs. He was three months old. After happily sucking on one, his other thumb found it’s way into his gummy mouth. His eyes popped wide and a giggle escaped as if he had discovered the moon himself. Two thumbs?! How marvelous!

Thumbsucking was too cute when he was small. It was just so BABY! So iconic! So overwhelmingly normal.

Later it was a symbol of his early shyness. His eyes wanted to join other kids, but his slow speech made it hard. His thumb played the part of a faux cork. He didn’t talk, because he couldn’t. His thumb was his beard.