Not Blogworthy

Something funny happened to me last night when a friend was having dinner with our family.

I don't think it's blogworthy, but he swears it is. I feel like I might as well be blogging about how I drank a glass of water or tied my shoes this morning. Except that if I tied my shoes this morning, that would mean I was wearing my tennis shoes, which might mean that I was going to work out, which would mean there really might be something to blog about since the thought of working out paralyzes me with fear.

But anyway.

We were chatting at the table after dinner when I commented that my lap seemed warm. I chalked it up to these crazy post-baby hot flashes I've been having, but when I looked down and lifted Brody up, it was quite clear what was causing the unseasonably warm temperatures. Brody had had a blowout.

If you're a seasoned mom who did not envision a car on the side of the road, skip this next part, (mostly) compliments of dictionary.com.

blow⋅out

–noun

1.	a sudden bursting or rupture of an automobile tire.

2.	a sudden or violent escape of air, steam, or the like.

3.	a hollow formed in a region of shifting sands or light soil by the action of the wind.

4.	an uncontrollable escape of oil, gas, or water from a well.

5.	Aeronautics.

6.	Slang. a lavish party or entertainment.

7. the result of too much poo and not enough diaper, often spilling out of the diaper, through the baby's clothes, and anything the baby's clothes might be touching. Like his mother's lap.


While it turns out that #2 is fitting, and #6 is surprisingly accurate according to the reaction Brody's blowout received, #7 is the correct definition. I held Brody up to discover that he had pooped his pants and mine.

I didn't think twice about finishing up my last few bites of dinner before changing us. Our friend LV, however, was howling with laughter, amazed that something like this could happen and that I'd casually finish dinner before cleaning us up. I think he was ready to have another helping of the Mexican Chicken Casserole until I compared the color of the cheese to the aforementioned blowout. Sorry 'bout that, LV.

Anyway, I didn't think it was all that blogworthy.

Until today when it happened again, and I just had to laugh. And I'm sorry for posting this picture, but seriously. Why do all the blowouts happen when Brody is wearing something light-colored? He has yet to have a blowout while wearing jeans or brown pants or navy blue pants.

And really, how could it NOT be blogworthy when I get these cute little grins while I'm changing us? It's impossible to not look forward to the next blowout when it results in this adorable little face!

Okay, that part isn't true. I'll probably not look forward to blowouts ever. But I might think of you, LV. Just like I think of you when I puke because when you lived with us I was pregnant with Emma and I had horrible morning sickness and you would laugh at me whenever I'd go throw up because you imagined that I was yelling at the toilet. Go ahead, tell me how honored you feel!

See, I knew it wasn't blogworthy.