Strollerderby : bad habits

Quit Biting!

Madeline Holler — Thu, 13 Sep 2007 13:45:00 GMT

I overeat. I talk too loud. I’m insecure. I think I snore. But if I could change one thing about me, it might be this:

I wish I didn’t bite my nails.

Apparently, nail-biting and cuticle chewing (my preferred method of fingertip destruction) are the most common symptoms of stress or of an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Mine is definitely stress related – my tips are real beauties when I’ve got nothing but happy going on.

A guy in The Netherlands claims to have developed a program to disconnect biting from emotions and stop cuticle ripping for good. He recently opened a clinic that focuses solely on ridding the world (or Northern Europe) of this hideous affliction.

He claims he can cure nail-biting and other members of the Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors family, which includes hair pulling, skin picking, incessantly biting the inside of a cheek or chewing toenails. (Will a brave commenter please step forward and confess to toenail biting?)

Treatment starts with a clear mouthpiece that makes sinking teeth into a satisfying nugget of finger-food impossible. Plus talk therapy for stress. And finally manicures -- or pedicures (brave commenter, I’m waiting) -- to repair the embarrassing damage.

Next time I’m in Amsterdam …

Crazy Couple Dines While Kid Swelters in Car

Mike Adamick (Cry It Out!) — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 11:32:00 GMT

This story just makes me sick. Apparently a Tennessee couple didn't want to be bothered while dining with their 6-year-old, so they strapped the boy in a car on an 80-degree day and went back to their meal.

"He was sitting up in between the two front seats and he was crying," (police Sgt. John) Gass said. "He had a rope tied to one of his ankles. The child was just sweating, just soaking."

The couple, Rachel "Idiot" Gilchrist, 35, and her companion, Raymond "Moron" Minchew, 61, said the boy misbehaved, while their fellow diners had a different story -- claiming the boy was an angel. Either way, it doesn't matter. This is just disgusting. And you know why?

Because they were eating at Cracker Barrel. I can totally understand if they were out at Per Se or somewhere nice. At least somewhere with a Michelin star or two. But Cracker Barrel? There's a special place in hell reserved for these parents.

TV Dinners Bad for More Than Your Brain

Mike Adamick (Cry It Out!) — Thu, 12 Apr 2007 14:31:00 GMT

Plopping the fam in front of the TV during dinner time does more than dull any type of conversation. It can actually make your kids unhealthy.

A recent health survey shows kids who eat with their families in front of the television eat fewer fruits and vegetables. Turn off the tube, however, the veggie intake soars. And here I thought dinner-time TV was a bad idea because the only thing on at the time is usually umimportant things like the news.

In short, the survey of 1,300 families with preschoolers showed that family dinner time = good -- while family dinner time + TV = bad. Just wait till the World Series and we'll see how quickly that equation changes.

Stopping a Nose-Picker From Picking

Karen Murphy — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 11:27:00 GMT

When my daughter was about two I tried to get creative and find ways to keep her from her newest habit, the one where her hand was suspended in front of her face, dangling by one finger firmly planted in a nostril. "What do you have in there?" I teased, "Ponies?" That got a smile which I could still glimpse, hidden as it was behind the hand, still dangling by that lone finger, digging. Okay, so subtle didn't work. What next? "Could I have some of that?" I joked. Always obliging and amazingly generous for a two-year-old, she removed the finger long enough to offer me what was on it.

Okay, so I'm a miserable failure at stopping nose-picking. What about you? Is this a problem in your house? ~~Nose-picking~~ Parenting expert Marilyn Heins gives advice in this column to a mom fed up by her kid who's now being shunned for his public nasal excavations. He's seven and eats what he mines or wipes it on his sweater, and the teacher and the other kids are so grossed out by this they make him sit alone (I say that the teacher needs a good talking-to; where does she get off doing that to the poor kid?). Of course, they could just start calling him "Booger" and I'll bet it won't take him long to stop, but Marilyn offers up this advice instead:

1. Don't call attention to it. (Hello? He's already been segregated becauseof it. You think this kid hasn't a clue that he picks his nose?)

2. When he does, take him firmly by the shoulders and say, "This behavior is not acceptable. If you must pick your nose, please do it in private." Okay, that one I can accept. And it's better than yelling, "Ewwwwwww!" and running away shrieking.

3. Minimize the crusties in there, which will minimize the irritation and therefore the temptation.

4. Self-flagellation: snap a rubber band around the kid's wrist for him to use whever he has the picking urge. (Okay, this one's a little too weird for me.)

What about you? Do you have any successful anti-picking strategies? (My daughter did eventually quit, by the way.)

YouTube Goodness: Kermit's Downward Spiral

JasonAvant — Fri, 30 Mar 2007 15:36:00 GMT

I'll admit it - the idea of combining the post-metal/industrial sound of Trent Reznor's band with the chipper vocal stylings of everyone's favorite frog seems like a ridiculous idea. But we who grew up with Kermit forgot that it' s really not that easy being green (and we finally have an explanation for Kermit's impossibly skinny arms and legs; apparently you can see needle tracks in the hi-res Quicktime version).

Miss Piggy, you ought to be ASHAMED. Look at what your wicked ways have wrought.

Easy Sleep Now Only Means Pain Later

Mike Adamick (Cry It Out!) — Thu, 01 Mar 2007 13:06:00 GMT

When Emmeline was about five months old, I performed the usual bedtime routine -- bath, massage, bottle, book -- then hoisted in her in her crib, turned off the light and let her fend for herself. Dana had to work through the night and into the early morning, and so I was the only one around the hear Emme cry. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was mean. It certainly broke my heart every time she woke up and I sat on my hands. But she sleeps like a drunken rock star now, so I'm not complaining.

I'm not advocating the cry-it-out method, despite the aptly chosen moniker above this post. It worked for us -- but it may not work for you. Still, I was reading a column by family psychologist John Rosemond, and I started to see he had a point: Taking the easy way out will only haunt you later.

Before we let Emme cry it out, Dana and I were up every half hour to plug a pacifier back into her yawning maw. She couldn't do it herself because A. she didn't know what those chubby, wiggly things were at her side, and B. she was swaddled, so she couldn't use them even if she did know. We tried everything to get her to sleep just a little bit longer. We took turns sitting with her. We brought her into bed with us. We sang, we hummed, we got so tired we actually rationalized with her. "Emme, you're a big girl now -- it's time to sleep. All night."

So at five months, we took away the swaddle, we took away the pacifier and we let her soothe herself -- and us, eventually -- into a deep, sound sleep. The easy way would have been to answer her every cry and trudge into her room for comfort and pacifiers. The hard way was to let her cry for one night -- she only needed one. If I had it to do over, I'd choose the hard way -- simply because it's easier over time.

Teeth Grinding in Kids: I Need Help and You're the Only One I Can Ask

Karen Murphy — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 13:16:00 GMT

I'm at my wit's end here and I figure I'm in the right place, I mean, you're pretty much most of you parents, right? And I know you have opinions. So please, please, share yours with me now. This post of Stefania's about the world's worst sounds has got me thinking. I know, I know, she's all about the "poo-splosion" and certainly the whining, and I have to give her those, but I gotta tell you, I think my three-year old is going to drive me to drink, or to get gray hairs, to to an early grave. Wait! Two out of three already! See??

He grinds his teeth. Oh, yeah, sounds like nothing, right? Phhhht. Except this has been going on even since he's had teeth, which thankfully came late in his case so we're only talking about over a year now, but ever since he had two little enamel grinders that matched up top and bottom, he grinds.them.incessantly. And? They're wearing down, of course. Which means that someday he'll be in a dentist's chair getting caps or something, or a root canal (on his front teeth!), because at the rate he's going those little suckers are gonna be stubs. Before he hits first grade.

Yeah, I talked to his speech therapist and his occupational therapist, and they suggested a plastic chewie toy, which his older sister covets mightily, being very oral, but he of course will have nothing to do with it. And why would he? Why stick a very lose-able piece of plastic in his mouth when he's got nice handy little organic things right in there, already built in?

So...anybody here ever dealt with this? What did you do? Aside from, maybe, propping his mouth open somehow with duct tape?