The Blowout

If I had categories in this blog, this one would be filed under ‘to blog or not to blog’. Today we had our first diaper blowout.  Before you scroll down in curiosity and disgust to see if I’ve posted pictures, I did not.  Without going into too many details, we were coming home from Target when it happened.  As we made it inside, I realized that there was an addition to the pattern on the car seat.  We got everyone and everything cleaned up without a lot of issues – and with some amused smiles from the little man.  The reason I decided to note it here is that from what I hear from most parents, this is just another important first in a string of more to come (there was a period of time when Lisa considered it a victory when her daughter came home from daycare wearing the same clothes she started the day in). Second is an email that Rob sent to me.  He said that as stressful as the situation must have been, I still sounded happy on the phone when I called to tell him about it.  Actually, I don’t want to paraphrase because his exact mail made me smile.  I just looked it up – it said:

Haha.  You know what else?  Even despite having a hard day w/ the little bean, you still sound happy.   I like that.

You’re a really great mom.

I have a great husband.  And also, he is totally right.  I realized that what ‘stress’ is to me, is importance attached to (relatively) unimportant things.  But trust me, cleaning up my son, a car seat – and almost a dog was pretty darn important.
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Diaper Blowout Milestone: COMPLETE

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One Response to The Blowout

  1. Linda says:

    So funny. We’ve picked up two piles from Scotti in two days. Mere and I had laughed about the fact that Captain B. probably hadn’t pooped on the floor (or eaten the garbage). We noticed today that the dog is getting tall, and have wondered if he could mutate and be the biggest big poodle/big Golden mix ever.

    I picked up a kitty while I was in Ohio, named Chester because he emerged from a corn field next to Chester Friends in Wilmington, Ohio, and I preached amidst the corn fields at Chester Friends in Union, Iowa. He (named Chester, because I’m so clever) was delightful company on the return trip, and much less impatient (even in a carrier!!) than Isaac had been going out.

    Clearly B. trusts you; his face would rather look upon yours than any jungle gym. You are a great mom, and I may just have a potato party to celebrate all his parents.

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