Pacify me

The crying, the endless feedings and diapers, Jayden's screaming (which now earns him a shot of soap water in the mouth), general fussiness from the girls and the 3 a.m. "wakeful" periods all are smooth as silk.
Only one thing has driven me close to believing that worms are crawling out of my eyes.
The pacifier.
Jayden turns 2 today, and he's hopelessly addicted to the pacy. Our doctor has told us it's time to break the addiction as soon as we can, after we all adjust to the twins' arrival (probably when they are 4 in other words). Jayden's still not talking much, though he knows a lot of words, and I'm pretty sure Jayden gets sick more than he needs to thanks to that wretched thing in his mouth all the time.
The girls already need their pacifiers, too, and the green hospital beauties we've brought home with them (free pacy with every baby, act now as this offer won't always be available) are apparently made of Super Ball. When the twins "drop" their pacifiers from their mouths, as they do about 379 times a day, the pacys bounce and roll, usually the couch, under the computer desk as I'm trying to play poker or down the hallway and into the darkest, most covert corner of the house.
I am constantly searching for either one of the twin's pacifiers or Jayden's, usually when Jayden is growing increasingly frantic that his herion dump is being taken away from it and his whine is approaching 747 jet airliner volume.
But that's OK. Let's be honest. The pacifiers are as much for the parents as they are the kids. It's the only thing that quiets down Jayden when he's whiny, and blissful, blissful peace, right now anyway, is more important than addiction.
The same pacifiers also work on the twins, especially when they're convinced that a little more milk won't hurt them, even after they've puked all over me and have burped four times and it's 3 a.m. and all I want to do is go to sleep please God sleep sleep sleep Andie go to bed right now!
Sorry.
We all have our pacifiers, and I've noticed that my pacifier in my poker game continues to be my tight-nut-peddling ways. that culiminated Friday with me folding J,10 on a 10,10,Q,3 board to an aggro maniac when he only bet the pot. Sad, sad, sad. A string of coolers had left me weak/tight and scared to get my money in with anything but the nuts, but after he flashed me 10,4, I realized I gave up a great opportunity to win a lot of money, and that's just as much of a mistake as calling off your chips.
(Poker note: I have seen more money lost from everyone I've played with when they trip up then any other scenario, even with overpairs to the board. So the fold isn't terrible, but I made the cardinal sin of ignoring my opponent's tendencies. If it was a tight player the fold wouldn't be too bad. Why do most push with trips when it's essentially a pair with an extra card. Kickers still play, people, and you're also doomed if someone has a set. I tend to play these with medium pots unless I know my opponent or have a great kicker).
So Saturday I raised and raised and raised some more, and I once even shoved with a set on an all-flush board. Normally I don't play big pots on all-flush boards with a flush myself, but the guy bet the pot and I was convinced he had something like A,K for TPTK and a flush draw. When the J paired the board I knew I was good and sure enough, he showed A,K with the A of spades.
This is not a breakthrough. I've gotten more aggressive these last few months. It's merely a notch, and notches are how we make more money and eventually move up in levels.
I've spit out that pacifier for now.
It's time for Jayden to lose his.

P.S. Pimping is in order here.

I've enjoyed the coverage at this site quite a bit (congrats Pauly on your cash).

But seeing as how I've contributed to the coverage on this site, and it also features the work of a couple good blogging buddies, I'm favoring this one right now.

So here's the pimp!