Diaper Blowouts

This past New Years Eve, Emily (pregnant with Gus) and I went over to our dear friends Steve and Dana's place. Dan and Jess, stubbornly still living in Chicago, came up for the weekend too and brought along with them Ella Claire, my favorite Goddaughter, who at the time was 9 months old.
At one point in the evening, Jess disappeared down the hall to change Ella's diaper. Some time elapsed, and then Jess was calling down the hall way for Dan to come and give her a hand. At least 30 more minutes elapsed before Dan and Jess emerged with Ella in tow. Dan was now just wearing a t-shirt, and Jess had changed her clothes as well. Naively, I wondered what could possibly have happened in there? Jess said two words: diaper blowout.

Diaper blowout? Surely that was an overstatement. How could somebody as adorable as Ella (below) create such a mess in her diaper so as to require both parents sets of hands and both parents to change their clothes?

I now know cuteness bears no relation to ability to cause a stink or to cause the dreaded diaper blowout. The Gus Man was on a particular roll last week, successfully pooping on his clothes on at least five occassions, culminating with a diaper changing fiasco this past Sunday, with yours truly suffering the brunt of it.

Emily wanted to run an errand, and I stayed at home to put Gus to bed. As I was holding him and rocking him, I felt something warm on my shirt (I was holding him facing out), and looked down and saw a dark circle forming. I then looked at Gus, and as I suspected, the telltalle dingy brown was beginning to show through his onesie.

I quickly manuvered Gus over to the changing table and got his onesie off. I then took his diaper off, only to have a jet of poo shoot out and splash on my right forearm. Ick.

Unfazed, I wiped my arm with one of Gus' diaper wipes, and forged ahead. Perhaps sensing that I was not to be so easily daunted, Gus decided to go with plan B -- and promptly sent a strem of urine in my direction, hitting me in the chest and arm. Great.

I quickly slipped off my shirt and continued ahead. Gus gave me a grin and hit me again with another quick stream -- this time hitting bare skin. Ok, buddy you win. I finished wiping both of us down and got Gus in his PJs, but I know now to fear and respect the diaper blowout. Here are some pictures of the little guy:

Smiles for Mom.

Caught in the act by the Pop-a-Razzi.

I think I'm a little too small for this ride . . .

Road Trip . . .

With Dad stuck at the office, Mom and Gus hit the road with Grandma and Grandpa Adriaens and headed for Lake Winnibigoshish. Gus was an excellent traveler, and, like a good Minnesotan, enjoyed some R&R at the cabin. Here are some trip highlights:

Head out on the highway . . . looking for adventure

Getting clean.

Hanging out with Mom, Otis Redding style.

With Mom and Grandma.

With this hat on, I totally look of age.

A brief history . . .

So as Gus approaches the end of his third-month, I thought that it would be a good time for a little pictorial stroll down memory lane. Looking back at these pictures, it's amazing to see how much the Gus Man has changed. Enjoy.

"The Thinker" -- this is the day we brought Gus home.

The Peanut in the car seat.

So tired. This is where Gus napped for a few weeks.

Sitting up and paying attention.

Who can resist that smiling face?

Be careful for what you wish for . . .

The saying "be careful for what you wish for, lest it come true" has always bothered me. The sentiment is that the person doing the wishing is being impulsive and has not thought through the consequences of their wish. Somehow I always thought that I would be able to hande the fall out of winning the $100 million jackpot, or being the star center fielder for the Yankees. "My wallet's too small for my fifties and my diamond shoes are too tight!"

Why is this relevant? Because, as readers of this blog know, Emily and I have been patiently trying to introduce Gus to the joys of sleeping in his crib. But Gus has resisted.

While sleeping with the Gus man laying on your chest is a pleasant experience, it makes it difficult to find restful sleep. And I remember wishing on more than one occassion that the little man would find his crib-which we have tried to make warm and inviting, a nice place for a siesta.

Now, not to get ahead of ourselves, but it seems that the man is taking to sleeping in the crib. He has put in some 6-8 hour stretches together, which is great for him -- but, it's been hard on dad.

I spent the past couple of nights with Gus sleeping in the crib tilting my head, listening to the crackle of the baby monitor, trying to decide if the silence is good or bad. And, when the G-Man lets out ANY type of noise -- here's what goes through my head:

"What was that?"

"Is he ok?"

"Should I go check on him?"

"Or if I do, will I just wake him up?"

"But what if I don't check on him and he isn't ok? How terrible would that be?"

"Maybe I should see what Emily thinks" -- (roll over look at Emily. She's out like a light).

"Ok, I am going to check on him."

Rinse, lather, repeat.

I never thought I would be one of those parents creeping in to put my hand on his back to make sure he's breathing, but I am.

Over time, I am sure that I will get used to it, but for now, it's a struggle. Be careful for what you wish for . . .

Anyhow -- some pictures of the little man:

This is one of my favorite onesies that Gus owns (thanks, Steve and Dana). For those who haven't seen it, underneath the picture, it says, "B is for Bob."

How you doin'?

Gus Says It's Fan-Tastic!

As previously reported here, Gus is obsessed with the ceiling fan -- particularly the one in our bedroom. He just loves it. Sometimes he stares in wonder and starts grunting. Other times, like in the short clip below, he gets so excited that he breaks into an four-limbed dance. Enjoy the clip.

9 1/2 Weeks

Of course the title of this post refers to the little man's age -- not the Adrian Lyne movie that has the best use of Joe Cocker's "You Can Leave Your Hat On" ever.

There was another break through with the crib last night. Grandma came over and bathed and watched Gus so that Mom and Dad could go for a run, and she was able to put him down in the crib where he slept for more than two hours! Progress made.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a day or two where Gus kept giving his Mom the evil eye. Well, those days are gone. Guster loves his Mom and is constantly giving her big smiles.

Gus' love for Mom may be overshadowed by his love of the ceiling fan. He is truly mezmerized by it -- and likes it a lot more than the mobile in his crib. Go figure.

Anyhow -- here are some pictures of The Meatloaf:

Maybe I'm a lefty?
Or maybe I'm a righty?
There must be something in the breast milk . . . I'm seeing blue and green elephants!

Baby Paparazzi

The Baby Paparazzi finally got a shot of the little man smiling -- and Video too.

July 4, 2007

This was Gus' first Fourth of July, and he got all decked out to celebrate:




Steve and Dana came over for some brats and Italian sausages off the grill. Good eats. And I finally got to throw the old horsehide around with Bergs. Let's see, so far in this post we have baseball, and below we have Mom -- all we're missing is the apple pie. Oh well -- maybe next year . . . Happy 4th to all!

Gus' Small Screen Debut

And so the love affair with the camera begins. The camera loves Gus (who doesn't?), and as you can tell from this clip, the feeling is mutual.

A Shower (and a kiss!) for Gus

The Adriaens' old neighbors from Valley Road were kind enough to throw Gus a baby shower. As you can see, Stacey's little girl, Kate, was quite taken by the the Gus Man.


I am told that in the picture below Kate is moving in for the kiss. Gus, you have to watch out for those older women!

The shower was wonderful, and Emily was very touched by the efforts of the gracious hosts Peggy and Lane.