'Don't tell me not to kiss my kids on the lips. I'm a kisser.'

Because before too long, real kid-kisses turn into adult air-kisses.

I love kisses.

Especially big, smoochy, dribbly, inconvenient, slimy baby kisses.

The sorts of kisses a large portion of your hygienic-self wants to reject but your heart tells you otherwise.

And isn’t that a relief?

Because a kiss from a child is the most honest thing in the world. They can fake a hug. “Use your arms!” I order my son as he leans in for what I’ve termed ‘The Seal’. A body that leans in to one’s shoulder, beckons to be hugged by someone else and then retreats. No arms involved. Just a body.

But a kiss is so different. A real one. Whether it’s a loving lip-smacker from a toddler, a peck from an almost-teenage son or an open-mouthed Festival of Spit from a baby. A kid-kiss is heavenly.

A smooch from a child requires much more effort, much more comfort, much more love.

But now, one expert warns that kissing on the lips is too sexual.

I’m gobsmacked. Or shall I say, lipsmacked?

Dr Charlotte Reznick, author of ‘The Power of your Child’s Imagination: How to Transform Stress and Anxiety into Joy and Success’ claims, “the kiss on the lips can be stimulating … It’s just too confusing. If mommy kisses daddy on the mouth and vice versa, what does that mean when I, a little girl or boy, kiss my parents on the mouth? If I had to answer when to stop kissing your kids on the lips, it would be now”.

I’m from a long line of kissers. My parents were kissers, their parents were kissers, and so this tradition goes back generations.

(Of course, I’m referring to kisses expressed within the realms of ‘normal’).

But some people agree with Dr Reznick. They don’t think ANY kissing between a parent and their child is “within the realms of normal”. Let’s refer to these people using the ‘c-word’.

Cuddlers.

I understand not all families are kissers. Truly.

You’re bound to have met one as an adult.

I have a dear friend who’s a cuddler. She’s very good at them. Doesn’t kiss. Never. Even now as an adult when other adults greet her with a kiss, she never gives them in return. Always hugs. With true conviction and enthusiasm – which almost makes up for the lack of kissing. Almost. I wonder when her aversion to kissing began? Is it a germ thing? An intimacy thing? Has she had too many fake air kisses that (over time) have cheapened the gift of a kiss? Or does she think – as Dr Reznick says – kissing anyone but a lover is too sexual?

Never.

I kiss my kids countless times a day.

I believe Dustin Hoffman’s character, Bernie, summarized parental love perfectly when he spoke about the ‘parenting method’ they used when raising their son:

“We used the Focker Method. We hugged and kissed that little Prince like there was no tomorrow. We Fockerized him …”

I’m Fockerizing my kids. There’s a lot of kissing and cuddling going on.

We’re no sicker than the ordinary Australian family. We’re no weirder either. We’re not hippies. We believe in immunisation, health care, formal education, sleeping when the sun goes down (mostly) and eating a balanced diet.

But when I mention that I’m a kisser-of-my-kids, I’m met with worrying looks and hurried chatter to define exactly when I won’t kiss my kids. After a Vegemite sandwich? Not in front of my son’s friends? Not with my daughter when she has a cold? Not with sticky-mid-lollipop lips?

Nope. Nothing is off limits.

KISSY. KISSY. KISSY.

Because before too long, real kid-kisses turn into adult air-kisses.

They’re bo-ring and about as special as a yellow-pastry sausage roll at the football stadium.

Let’s catch and kiss our kids as much as we can.

Long live the kid-smooch.

Do you kiss your kids? 

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