If you are a breastfeeding mom with a hankering for Son!c (only a Midwestern thing, I think) -
do not, under any circumstances, even if someone is holding a gun or a fish to your head, succumb to the urge to sample their new peach iced tea.
Yourr previously cherubic infant willl react as though you had fed her poisoned yak blood, and will be comforted only by hours of jiggling, swaying, and devout prayer. And, perversely, by frequent nursing, which, hello? only makes her feel worse!
May the curse of all infants be upon you, Son!c. I hope someone projectile vomis into your cherry limeade selling face.
10 minutes later, and I have broken my cardinal rule of parenting. In a fit of raw desperation, I dug out a pacifier someone had given us as a baby gift for the Bear. I popped it in her mouth, and lo! Contented sucking! No flailing of limbs, writhing, wailing, or other assorted such nonsense. I hate pacifiers - we never gave one to the Bear. She sucks on her middle three fingers when she's sleepy. I think pacifiers look like little baby muzzles. And yet here is Mouse, chomping contentedly on a big blue hunk of silicone.
Maybe they're ok for emergency use only...