Three Vices

Each of my children seem to have come out of the womb with a different, nasty habit. Deanna was born a biter. I'm not just talking about the occasional nip for attention - I mean, all-out knawing. Once, when we were sitting in the recliner together snuggling, she reached over, took a hunk out of my arm, and hung on. I tried shaking her off like a lizard clamped on, but that didn't work. I shrieked at her to stop biting me, to no avail. Somehow, I finally managed to get the point across that this was torture, and she let loose. Afterwards, I asked her why she bit me.

"I just love you so much, Mommy, I had to take a bite." I love you too, honey, but THAT kind of love I can do without.

The truth is, she got her bad habit from me. I watch Donovan playing with the children. He'll lick them until he just can't quite express the depth of his love, then he'll take a nibble. I remember when Don and I were newlyweds. Once, while kissing, I bit his lip. Not hard. Just a little nibble, like Donovan. He shrieked and pulled away. Honestly, it was a small nibble. Didn't break the skin. But you would have thought I shot Don. I vowed never again to nibble while kissing, mainly because I feared I might never be kissed again by my husband, and he was the last chance at kissing I had. So, gone went the nibbling and just pure smooches remain.

With all my babies, I've had to take nibbles from time to time - nibble their little fingertips or toes-eys, or a gentle bite of their nose (only when clean, though - no bugger noses for me). Just an expression of love. But Deanna's thing was out-and-out biting. She bit her friends. Once, she bit the cat. And she'd bite me. Now, nibbling is one thing, but biting is entirely another. Nibbling can be shocking, but it almost never hurts. Biting, however, can leave scars and, possibly, teeth behind.

It took a couple of years of working with Deanna to break the biting habit. Then we had Dane. Dane had a new and interesting habit of pinching. Not just light pinches, like you'd give somebody on the rear or on the arm on St. Patrick's Day if they weren't wearing green. He gave "dig into the skin, grab as much as you can, and twist it hard" pinches. And, he gave them often. To everyone. He'd make Deanna cry. She'd think her baby didn't love her and I'd remind her of many biting incidents. That usually helped and she'd end up laughing about all the times she bit me or her Daddy.

We finally had to start swatting Dane everytime he pinched. He didn't mean to hurt. I'm not sure what started the habit, but I suspect Don is a closet pincher and he inherited this tendency from his Daddy, just as Deanna inherited biting from me.

Daelyn arrived with a different vice - punching. I can't believe how early he leared to ball up his fist and - kaplowee!!! His target could be anybody. His brother and sister often serve as targets. Daddy and Mommy know the stance well. His friends have learned to duck or run when they see the fist. But he might just as easily display his punching ability on the mailman or the neighbor.

We've tried spanking, time-out's, being sent to his room, restriction from computer games ... nothing seems to work. Most recently, we've begun to say, "Daelyn, open up the fist. Open up your hand." If we catch him before the punch is thrown, we're usually successful. However, now punching has changed to hitting.

Long sigh. We've run out of parents. Where did he get this little trick from? I think it's time to begin blaming grandparents.