The Blowout

In parenting, there occasionally come times in which the comedy of a situation can't truly be appreciated by the participants of the situation until the heat of the moment has passed and the dust has settled on the scenario.

That was certainly the case when my daughter had her first "Level 3" blowout in public...very funny now, not so funny then.

But first, let me provide my definition of a blowout, in relation to a baby (not tires), and the arbitrary ranking system that I have created for them:

Blowout (noun) - The critical failure of a diaper, resulting in baby "bi-product" escaping from the containment area of the diaper. Can be broken down into three levels, based on intensity:

• Level 1 - Some "bi-product" outside of the diaper containment area, but not on the baby's clothing. Diaper change, but no outfit change required.
• Level 2 - More "bi-product" outside of the diaper containment area, some may have gotten on the baby's clothing, often restricted to the pants. Diaper and outfit change is required.
• Level 3 - "Bi-product" has made a full breach of the diaper containment area and has come into contact with all components of the baby's outfit. Often identified by the phrase "Holy god, it's everywhere!" Diaper and outfit must be thrown away and/or burned.

At this point, if you are already a parent, you are most likely thinking back to the first "Level 3" that you experienced and laughing about it, even though at the time it probably didn't seem very funny at all.

If you aren't already a parent, then I hope that by "pulling the curtain back" on one of the more disgusting experiences of parenthood, I haven't caused you to change your mind!

I'm not really sure what causes a blowout to occur, and why they can range in severity from a minor leak to an explosion of atomic proportions. The one thing that I do know, is that they can (and usually do) occur when you least expect them, and when you least want them too.

I experienced my first "Level 3" when my daughter was just six weeks old, on Mother's Day, while we were spending the day at a local strawberry festival with my wife's family. It was our FIRST outside activity since bringing our little one home.

My daughter had been sleeping in her stroller for the first couple hours of the day (gathering her strength for what she was about to unleash, I imagine), while we were walking around the county fairgrounds, where the festival was being held. After a quick stop for lunch, my wife and her sister went to have their palms read, leaving me with her parents and a stroller full of sleeping baby.

Of course, as soon as mommy walked away my daughter woke up, so I fumbled through the diaper bag to find her bottle, mixed some formula, and fed her. Once she was finished, I put her up to my shoulder and began burping her.

And, then it happened.

While I was burping my daughter, I heard some "rumblings" in her diaper, which wasn't uncommon, as my daughter has no shame and seems to enjoy making her bodily functions as loud as possible, so I thought nothing of them...

...until I noticed that the back of her shirt felt wet.

I flipped my daughter around to see the huge, wet, brown streak which was soaking through the back of her shirt, almost to her neck, as well as the "overflow" which had started running down the top of her shorts.

My wife was still getting her palm read, and was nowhere to be seen. Lucky me.

I must have gone into a state of shock, because I certainly wasn't in my right mind when I ripped open the diaper bag to find our travel changing pad and started setting up everything I needed to change my daughter under a nearby tree, as opposed to looking for the nearest bathroom, which was about twenty feet away.

To compound the issue, after I stripped my daughter down on the grass, put her on the changing pad, and got her diaper off she began to pee (When it rains it pours, right?) so I grabbed a blanket to finish the job on, since my changing pad was now wet.

My daughter, through this whole process, seemed to be enjoying herself. While she was still too young to laugh, I'm pretty sure that she was taking great pleasure in the situation.

Luckily, my mother-in-law was there to help me out, and after half a box of wipes, two diapers, and bath in hand sanitizer (for me) the job was done. My wife walked up to us shortly thereafter, oblivious to the scene that she had just missed. (Happy Mother's Day, Honey!)

Needless to say, it was quite the experience for our first outing as a family.

At the time, "The Blowout" (what I lovingly refer to this infamous story as) was a horribly stressful experience, and yet now it's one of my favorite stories to tell. And, while my daughter may have thought that the trouble she put her dad through on that day was funny at the time, I'm sure I'll be having the last laugh when she finds out that I just told that story to the world!