Saturday, March 20, 2010


(cue the music)

So I hope you have the music playing as you read, thanks for playing along...

I've got a serious problem over here.

That adorable boy?
The one who is about to turn one in a few weeks?
The one who has grown about 14 pounds of hair in recent days?
The one who brings love, laughter, copious snot and a newfound joy I've never known?

Yea, that one. The BHB.

He bites!!

It's brand new today. I'm kinda freakin' out.

You: Um, actually Jane, I know for a fact he's bitten you before, you whined talked about it here.

Me: No!...I mean, yes, you're right. He has bitten me in the past, but what I'm talking about now is the ole 'I've got him in my arms and the exposed tank top shoulder get's a chomp taken out of it', or the 'boy my neckline hem thing must look delicious but oops he got which a nice hunk of flesh out of the same milk providing mechanism but from a different angle'.

You: Welcome to motherhood.

Me: Dammit! I knew you were going to say that.

I mean, I know about the two year olds who bite. I know about the terrible terrible two's and while I was NOT judging you momma's who have the biters I was secretly, smugly convinced that my little angel would never bite me (he would love me too much) and while I'm sure your kid loves you...Uhm, well, I got nothing for ya, but I just KNEW it wasn't going to happen to me.

And here I am! And he's only not even one.
Not even one.

Slump. Sigh.

So how am I supposed to deal with this dear Momma's? How do I not drop him? I almost did tonight, I was so surprised when the sharp pain ripped through my consciousness, my hands unconsciously let go. Yes, I think it was a release and catch program, thank god for my cat-like reflexes. I have a very difficult time with gravity, the benefit is that because I drop crap all of the time, I'm really good at re-catching it. Which I did.

So I look forward to hearing your thoughts. In the meantime, I'll leave you with a few of the images that were captured tonight of the danger lurking in the water.

Don't be fooled by the sweet smile...

check it out! all of that hair even looks like a dorsal fin!

Needing a bigger boat,


  1. Oh, Jane. My only comment is this: I knew childbirth would be painful. I never knew the physical pain would continue for years after. You just wait until BHBoy steps upon the very edge of your unclothed nipple while wearing sandals (yes, this can happen, and don't ask me to explain how), and this biting thing? This will be the good ol' days.

  2. Oh my. Yup it hurts like crazy and it is hard not to react by dropping the little darling. My daughter started doing it while nursing. Honestly, it was like she was weaning herself. She was just as fed up with nursing as I was. However, when I would yelp in pain it would startle her so severely that she would cry and guilt there!

    There is a great deal of pain associated with childbirth and it definitely does not end until...well never. I have been hit with board books (the bridge of the nose is the worst), pens, keys, toys, tiny fists, feet (with and without shoes), the list goes on and on.

    After a while, I guess you just get used to it. They are little angry people sometimes and they don't know how to get it out, so they do what they can.

  3. I"ll just say, "ow." I get you.

    The bite that drew blood while he was nursing wasn't awesome. I still have PTSD from that one.

  4. Can I just say (again, probably) that the teething plan for humans--is a bad design? The teeth should come in utero. But just look at all that gorgeousness. I kind of want to eat him.

  5. Maybe if you make a big deal about it, and be overly dramatic. Worked for me. BHBaby is really pretty cute in the tub. Hard to be mad (even at a biter) when they come in such a cute package.

  6. Oh thanks you guys for these great comments...I'm a bit of relieved at how normal it is and paralyzed by fear of my immediate and not so immediate future. Awesome!

  7. Chompy. He is so darling.

    I am a wreck over here too - bite marks on both shoulders and one hand that is totally scratched and picked because *somebody* really likes to hold it and fuss with it while he's going to sleep and/or nursing. No good advice, obviously. Just deep in the indignities of motherhood.