Dorian spotted the pincher bug on the dining room floor before I could get Jeff to relocate it. His mouth gaped open in a wide grin and he dropped to all fours and crawled up to it. What is it about boys and bugs? We had to keep pulling him back so he didn't get pinched (uh, do they even really do that? I need to look that up) and so he wouldn't smash the poor guy. This is odd behavior for me. Had I been alone I would have screamed like a teenage girl in a slasher flick and scrambled away to find something to bludgeon the thing to death with. Dorian followed close behind the pincher bug all the way into the kitchen. He was pretty much free to go. Once Dorian spotted it Jeff couldn't really touch the pincher bug without Dorian wanting to. Jeff said, "Bye-bye bug" as it made a hasty retreat from Dori under the cabinets. When it disappeared Dorian let out a howl and started to cry. He covered his face and put his head on the ground crying a pretty good sounding "bug" over and over again. It was fantastic. When the brave little pincher bug darted out from the safety toward the dog bowl Dorian was on him and happy again. Well, until he went under the dishwasher. Then we went back to inconsolable sobbing. It really was one of those adorable moments that help you through the teething.Still, as cute as it was, I couldn't help wondering where that pincher bug was all night long. I am so not looking forward to the coming years of boyhood. He'll be excitedly bringing me bugs any day now. And I will have to try and stay calm as he handles the spider he found. If you don't know me, I am terrified of spiders, big and small. Hell, I freak out when a lady bug lands on me and lingers too long. I'm very much so the wait in the car kinda gal when it comes to nature. Even more so when it comes to creepy crawly stuff. Seriously, I freeze when I see a spider. Unless I see it on me and then I go into what looks like dancing, running and a seizure until I'm sure it's off me. Then I twitch and jump for about two hours afterward.

Someone read my last blog and asked me if I just let Dorian scream in my face and do nothing. I answered," No, I don't just let him scream at me and do nothing. Sometimes I choke him.  I'm kidding. Really..." I don't think she believed me.   It isn't as bad as I made it sound. He is teething, the two year molars, the ones people smirked and warned me about when I was crying over the front teeth. They are here and worse than any uninvited relative. His whole little mouth is swollen looking. The teething causes him to produce more saliva than normal and this makes his poop very acidic. if you don't catch it right away, and no matter how hard I try I never seem to, it will scorch his bottom. He has a horrible diaper rash and a full remodel going on in his mouth. He isn't comfortable even when he sleeps so he has been on full tilt grouch mode. But he still laughs. He still dances. Hell sometimes he wails while he plays. I understand why he's doing it but it doesn't make it any easier on the ears. He's loud and miserable and this is just a stage. It will give way to something way worse that will make me wish for these times. This is the thing about parenthood they don't tell you. Nothing ever gets easier, it just changes. I heard a comedian (name I can't remember) that said being married was like having a really bad job but you really like your co-workers. I think that describes parenthood, too.

A few days into the recovery of my surgery, Jeff broke his hand. He ran to the pharmacy to pick up my pain pills and decided to ride his new skateboard from the car to the the front door. Simple enough. My manchild husband has done it a million times....except this time he hits something and eats it. He took a week and a half off to stay home and help me recover. This has now been bumped up to two. With Jeff in the cast helping with child and home while I'm healing this has not exactly been the "curled up in bed with coffee, something sweet, a favorite book and earplugs" kinda recovery I had dreamed of. It never is though, right? Come rain or snow or cold or surgery, mom is always on duty.  Now that I'm a parent and (even worse) older, the thing I most want to do is curl up somewhere quiet with a book and coffee, like I used to. When Jeff and I do have a spare moment the thing we most want to do with each other is sadly not dirty at all. We'd most like to sit somewhere quiet and do nothing. Just stare ahead blankly and not hear that horrible screeching sound our son likes to make when he's happy, sad, or just plain awake. In fact, he makes this horrible noise so much that I don't even notice it right away sometimes. I'm so used to how loud he is that it's sorta become the soundtrack to my life. Sometimes it just fades away into the background like a buzzing noise. I know that sounds awful. I feel like an awful mother even writing it. In my defense though, you have not heard the noise. If you have heard it, I'm sure you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Dorian is teething. He has a bad diaper rash because of this. He believes this trumps gallbladder removal and a broken hand. I guess if I had a rash on my bits I might think so too. That's all for now...... I hope.