On the gross side of being a father

Not for the faint of heart.

This morning when Callum first woke up as usual he wanted to expend some energy so I changed his diaper then put him in the jumper (a seat with a spring that hangs from a doorway) and laid back down.  I laid down and watched him jump for a little bit (it's a new skill for him and a lot of fun to watch) until he wasn't having fun anymore.  Unlike most mornings this morning it REALLY wasn't fun anymore.  Callum started bawling so I got up and pulled him out of the jumper.  As I did so I noticed that his sock was wet.  The only light was the early morning sun coming through the window.  I thought his sock was wet because the jumper was hanging on the bathroom door and Lisa must have taken a shower and gotten the floor wet.  As I turned him so that I could feel the other sock to feel if it was wet, I felt something wet and slimy all over my chest.

This was the worst diaper blow out we have ever had.  To tell the truth, the cloth diapers that we use are wonderful and our only previous major blowouts had been we were using disposables.  That aside, Callum had a bath, then I had a shower, then the carpet got shampooed, and when Lisa gets home to show me how to take the seat out of the jumper that will get washed.

I mostly wanted to post this because most of my previous posts have been on the good things about being a stay at home dad.  However today also taught me a lesson.  Those of you that know me know that while I'm no germaphobe, I am easily grossed out.  I honestly have to say that the thing I was least certain about before I became a father was my ability to change diapers.  Well, I made it.  Though yes, it is sometimes gross, from day one I haven't had any problems with changing diapers.  And now I've finally been pooped on (a rite of passage in parenthood), and I lived.  I didn't panic or freak out, I cleaned Callum up, then I cleaned myself up, then I cleaned the house.  Before we had Callum I got into a bit of trouble with Lisa for asking if she would think I was a bad father if I used gloves every time I changed the baby (sounds like a joke, but I bought a box), but something in that connection that happened when Callum was born means that I can even get pooped on without thinking twice.