A Little Bite in Life

Yesterday, my daughter sent me a frantic text message on my cell phone. Her baby girl had bitten another child at daycare! My daughter was horrified. At almost fifteen months, my granddaughter does not know what she did nor the consequences of her action. She is still a baby!

And although the caregivers at the daycare assured my daughter that the other child was fine and they had explained to her daughter that this was not acceptable, the person who needed the most comfort and assurance was my daughter. Knowing this I called her only to hear her embarrassment and concern for her daughter's actions.

It reminded me of a similar incident that occurred thirty-five years ago when my oldest son was the recipient of many a bite from the little girl that lived across the street. Unlike my granddaughter who is very young, my son was three years old and so was his friend. He complained to me often about the biting and I tried to get the child to stop when she was at my house playing, but it was to no avail.

But the worst part was that as a young mother, I had not developed good parenting skills and so kept asking my sweet little boy what he had done to make this other child bite him. When one day I looked into his crystal blue eyes and saw the tears on his face and heard him, really heard him, say, "I didn't do nothing Mommy."

I immediately took action and told the other child's mother what had been going on and although she was horrified I could see that she too felt my son had brought it on himself and there wasn't much she could do about it. Then one day we were sitting in my living room enjoying a cup of coffee and waiting for my newborn baby to wake up. He was asleep in his room and the two three-year-olds were playing in my son's room. Or so we thought.

A piercing scream from the nursery made the two of us run only to find my newborn baby screaming in his bed and on one of his arms was the impression of a full set of teeth made by my neighbor's daughter. There was no blood but deep red marks. And while I picked up the baby to comfort him, I heard more screams, this time from the little girl who's mother was biting her arm like it was a chicken leg. I know it sounds funny and in an odd way it was, but that child never bit my son or anybody else again the rest of her life.

I spent the rest of the afternoon comforting my friend who was horrified at her daughter's actions but in the end, we smiled and laughed and realized we'd each grown up a little that day.

And that is what is happening with my daughter. Being a parent is an on-going process and her children are going to do things their entire life that will encompass a multitude of reactions. This is only the beginning but one day her little daughter will be grown up and a mother and is going to send her a text (or whatever communication is in the future) and my daughter will be ready to help her just as I hope I am there for my daughter now.

And on a side note: In addition to texting me with her daughter's actions, my daughter also sent a text to her two brothers. (The three-year-old and newborn in the above story). Both did their best to comfort their sister by making her laugh, a true gift they both have proving a little bite in life is not going to hurt.