There is one on every daycare. The one that all the other parents talk about and wonder when they will get kicked out. When Little Man was in daycare and about a year and a half old, he was bitten about a dozen times; by the same girl! How do I know this you ask? He told me! The teachers are of course, sworn to secrecy to protect the innocent. The innocent! The poor boy is getting eaten alive! The school was normally pretty good about calling after each incident but I recall one occasion when during bath, hubs noted a large bruised area on Little Man’s shoulder. It had teeth marks. This girl meant business. We asked Little Man who did this and he told us. “Betsy Biter” bit me mama. On the days it would happen we would pick him up from daycare and he would say “no, no Betsy Biter”.

Fortunately, Little Man never picked up the habit and only bit twice. I was horrified. I wanted to write a note to the parent apologizing. Then again, if it was Betsy I didn’t really feel bad. I am not sure what is worse, to be the parent of the biter or the bitee. As the bitee, you feel bad for the other parent because you know they are horrified. Or, at least you hope they are. As the biter you are horrified and prayer your child was just hungry, or teething, and will never do it again.

There is debate whether this habit is learned or innate. In Little Man’s case it seems it was learned. The Babe, however, is a different story. You see, The Babe has not had the privilege of daycare yet. The Babe has never been bitten. The Babe is a biter.

I watch the scenario unfold. Little Man and The Babe are playing outside at the water table. Little Man grabs something from The Babe. The Babe wants it back but big brother is not giving in. The Babe begins to groan, and stomp, and then lean in. Mouth opens. I leap. Nooooooooo! Sometimes I make it, others I don’t. The Babe sees cousin Luke has a blanket. The Babe wants the blanket. Luke holds on tight. Is he kissing Luke? Nooooooo! Sometimes I make it, others I don’t.

I realize, or hope, this is a phase based on the inability to communicate. Little Man was an early talker and even today speaks beyond his age group. I am sure this contributed to the fact that he was not a biter. What is a mom to do. I have now experienced both sides of the coin. I am horrified. Do I follow him around when he is around other children? Do I spank him? Do I bit him back? Do I give him a time out and a teether? I want to go back to the hitting phase.