Party Pooper

For Aaron's future enjoyment (as I am sure he will read this someday), I wanted to provide a snapshot of my life as a parent.  Yesterday, at around 3:00 in the afternoon, I found myself sitting in the rocking chair in Aaron's nursery, holding him as he furiously sucked at a bottle, milk dribbling down his chin and into the folds of baby fat around his neck and shoulders, before it trickled onto my lap.  He was naked except for a diaper, his previous diaper having been soiled with such intense force that it shot up the back and all over his clothes, a phenomenon that is so ubiquitous in the parenting world that it is universally known as a "blowout." 

His face was red, and he had two boogers perched at the end of his nose--one in each nostril--the result of his hysterical screaming and crying as I frantically tried to get his poopy clothes and diaper off before feeding him.  On the front of my dress, there was a large wet stain.  In my rush to get him changed as quickly as possible, flustered by the ever-increasing pitch of his screams, I made the rookie mistake of leaving his nether regions uncovered for just a split second.  Naturally, he took that opportunity to empty his bladder right onto my chest.  A perfect bullseye.

And as I sat there rocking my boy, soaked in milk and pee, a pile of poop-filled baby clothes on the floor at my feet I thought, "There really is no place I'd rather be."  Is that sweet?  Or pathetic?  Aaron evidently thought it was funny because as soon as he finished eating, he let out an adorable baby giggle...and promptly filled his diaper again.

5/24/2012 Addendum:
I didn't take any pictures of the particular blowout described above.  But to prove that I'm not exaggerating (and to embarrass Aaron, because that's what mothers do), here is one of his masterpieces.  All the way up to the shoulder blades.  Now that takes talent, folks: