Picking is Genetic

I have read in various places at various times descriptions of the neurotic behaviors of self-described pickers, and all I could ever really think at those times was, "It's like they're in my head!". Not the least disturbing of these moments was when I watched a random episode of "My Strange Addiction" on Netflix about a girl who obsessively picked her skin raw and I identified with some of the thoughts she had--THOUGHTS THAT LANDED HER IN THERAPY. Let's just say that's the last episode of THAT show I ever watched.

My daughter is a picker. A little 15 month old picker.

I have this little brown freckle-mole thing situation directly above my left breast. It isn't in a sketchy location, and is quite visible when I wear a "low-cut" shirt or swimsuit.

That little freckle-mole is on death row.

At first I didn't think anything of it because she was only fidgeting with it when she nursed on that side. But soon I noticed that she was deliberately trying to grab the "edges" of it. She was watching it while in the very act of taking milk from my body. I was nurturing her the best way I know how and she was trying to rip my skin off. About 1 second after that I felt that uncomfortable shot of pain that comes with attempting to rip flesh that needs no ripping.

I began to prohibit the activity, but guess where that leads?

Screaming. Unbelievable screaming. And hitting. She will have that freckle-mole, dang it!

Given the fact that most of the time this occurs in the middle of the night (and the fact that she is pretty unreasonable when she's fully conscious), I found it difficult to discipline it away.

My next attempt to stop the behavior was to simply place my hand over the area and hope she didn't notice or care.

She notices and definitely cares. Unless I can slip my hand in place while she's mostly out of it, she knows, and the whole world stops until she gets what she wants.

Third attempt was to act hurt (not hard to do). Every time she grabbed it this morning I would yelp "ow!" and make a sad face. The little sadist wasn't moved, and she was only slightly startled.

I have one option left. Remove the freckle-mole myself. Granted, this won't be my first mole removal (because let's not forget that the baby's mother is also a picker), however, in my experience, they don't stay gone without professional assistance. That isn't stopping me, however, and besides, she's already gotten it started for me over the course of only a few days. If I can get it out of the picture for a while, maybe she'll be less interested in it by the time it comes back. I don't have much hope in that however.

Once a picker, always a picker.

***I'm aware that this all sounds pretty disgusting. I do not apologize.