Poop on my hands

So far I have refrained from discussing B.M.s on the blog. Not anymore. When it comes to poop we have gotten pretty lucky. Calvin hasn't really had too many blowouts. He's never covered his stroller or car seat in feces. There's never been a huge accident in bed, aside from urine. I can't even remember Calvin ruining an outfit with poop. This is in stark contrast to stories I hear from other parents. One of my favorite baby poop stories is of my uncle trying to change my cousin's huge poopy diaper on the tray table on an airplane. Apparently the recirculated air bothered the Oakland Raiders that my uncle happened to be flying with.

As lucky as we've been with baby poo, when we began doing food boluses we noticed a change. There was suddenly a lot more of it and it was looser and wetter. Today was his worst yet. I first noticed it on the chair he was sitting in. Then on the back of his pjs. It was the kind of poop that necessitates a bath, the kind that lead to an extra load of laundry, half empty bags of trash being taken out, and cleaning of furniture. I picked him up under the arms and using all the strength I could muster, carried him up the stairs while still holding him as far away from my own body as possible. The gag reflex would have been activated for many. I measure how messy a b.m. is by how many wipes it takes to clean it up. An average poop for Mr. C is about a 4 wipe poop. I used 10 wipes on his body pre bath. I didn't count how many I used on the furniture. We are lucky it happened at home. If this poo had happened out in public...well, that's the kind of stuff that legends are made of.

To out or not?

I may not appear an obvious lesbian, but if you talk to me I will out myself within 5 minutes. It's usually because of the important role that my wife plays in my life. There are some instances, however, in which coming out just seems a lot more trouble than it's worth. These are always brief exchanges with strangers, who make assumptions. Today, for instance, at the post office a woman commenting on Calvin's size asked if my husband was a large man. I responded in the affirmative because the sperm donor is 6'2". I feel completely comfortable avoiding the truth in these situations. I'm not denying myself or ashamed of being gay, I just didn't feel like getting into it. The thing is that soon Calvin is going to start to understand. What is he going to think? Will he think I'm ashamed of our family? What message will he internalize by watching these interactions? The idea of having to explain our lives to everyone who makes a mistaken assumption is exhausting and intimidating, but I would never want Calvin to think for a second that I am anything other than 100% proud of us. On the flip side, I also want him to learn that he doesn't have to volunteer any information that he doesn't want to and that he shouldn't give out a lot of personal information to strangers. I hope that when the time comes I will know what to do and how to explain it to him.