Kids Bite.

...Or maybe just mine do. Or just one of them does. And he bites his sibling. I'm not going to say who bit who; I'm really trying not to hold it against him since he was already punished for it. I just hope it doesn't become a trend. We'll use code names for this post. We'll call the boys Bim and Tris* just for today.

So. I woke up with tons of ambition yesterday, and decided to mop the hardwood floors and the tile in the kitchen (I use the same kind of soap for both. Is that cheating?). Mopping the floors may not seem like much, but it takes a lot out of me in my current condition and with our current weather (hot and surprisingly humid for Idaho).

Anyway. I gave the boys breakfast, and stuck them in the playroom with a fan to keep them cool and a few noisy toys to keep them occupied. I guess I made the mistake of not giving them equal toys. One toy was vastly more appealing than the other; it's a little firetruck with a seat and some buttons that play really obnoxious songs. The other toy was a little car dashboard with levers and a steering wheel that makes fun noises. The boys love it, but it doesn't compare to the firetruck.

Things went pretty well for a while. They kind of took turns with the toys, and though there was a little squabbling here and there, it was nothing major. Until suddenly, Bim starts screaming and crying--not the tantrum scream, but like he was hurt. So I dashed into the playroom and there was Bim with tears streaming down his little cheeks, and there was Tris sitting on the firetruck looking a little like he knew he was in trouble. But not looking at all repentant. I scooped Bim up into my arms to give him a hug, and then I noticed it: a perfect little circle, comprised of ten little red indents, exactly matching Tris' little teeth. I couldn't believe it. I called to David to come get Bim and hold him, then I grabbed Tris and swatted his bottom (I don't like spanking, so I don't do it very hard, or often, but the boys know it means they're in trouble when I do spank). I spoke very sternly to him, telling him we don't ever, ever bite, and he needs to tell Bim he's sorry. I wondered if Tris understood what I was telling him, and as I looked at his face, I realized that he did understand, and that he was not going to apologize. I have only once before seen a look of such defiance in his face.** I put Tris in his crib (all I could think of for time out) without his pacifier, which I think was the worst part of the punishment, for a couple minutes.

When I let Tris out of time out, I gave him one more little lecture, then we went downstairs. I quickly finished mopping and got a snack ready for the boys. Bim came upstairs and asked for a cracker, so I gave him two, telling him to give one to Tris. He took it downstairs and held it out to Tris. Tris would have none of it. He stuck out his bottom lip and his little ol' belly, and stalked away. Bim put the cracker on the floor and Tris sneaked over and ate it when he thought no one was watching (yeah, I let my kids eat off the floor). He wouldn't let any proverbial water pass under the proverbial bridge. It wasn't until after lunch and nap-time that he pointed to the mark on Bim's face and gave Bim a big hug. Better late than never, I suppose.

*These are actual names. There is a guy named Bim who works at the Railroad here, and Tris Speaker was a Major League Baseball player from 1907-1928. I guess both names are nicknames; I'm just saying, I didn't make them up.