Defining Moments

I guess there are moments in fatherhood which really help define the parenting experience. I believe one of those happened last weekend and I thought I'd share.

Rowan had a fever last week. It didn't last long and we didn't think too much of it as it simply made her a little more huggy and sleepy. It passed the next day and we figured it was simply the effects of another couple of teeth coming in. No big deal.

Last weekend roles around and Rowan was being her usual self and running around the house, playing with toys, reading books and naming everything she can see. She comes over to me as I'm laying on the couch and asks to come up. This is nothing unusual and often results in her climbing up for two seconds before realizing that all the cool stuff is on the ground and down she goes.

This time, I lifted her up onto my chest and in the space of a second or two, she proceeds to spew the contents of her dinner onto me and the surrounding area. Rowan is shocked, scared and not sure what just happened. Jennifer immediately springs into action and gets the necessary cleaning supplies as I try my best to comfort my daughter while covered in vomit.

After the shock wears off and we get Rowan settled and into the bath, she's her normal self and joining mommy in playing with her bath toys. Meanwhile, I have to go about the task of figuring out just how you clean vomit off a couch.

This little event led me to a few conclusions:

1. All my life, I imagined that my own parents simply knew what they were doing when we threw up everywhere. It's like they had some hidden playbook and were just enacting #121-Vomit Clean-up Option Left. This playbook does NOT exist and they, like me, were simply making this crap up as they went along with equal amounts of shock and awe.

2. Being covered in your own child's vomit is simply not as disgusting as I would have imagined. However, it's the point when the adrenaline kicks out and you know your daughter is ok that it becomes TRULY disgusting. I've learned it's best to get to the cleaning as fast as you can while the adrenaline is pumping. That's probably why my parents moved so damn fast as well.

3. When vomit or any sort of extreme mess is involved, a person can move with AMAZING speed and intensity. I'm the guy who doesn't want to find the remote as it may require getting my ass off the couch. But hit me with disgusting bile and watch me sprint around the house ten times to find more paper towels. If it weren't so disgusting, I'd get puked on more often in an effort to fix that front step I've been neglecting.

4. No event more than the disgusting, no choice but to deal with it, smelly emergency moments make you feel more like a parent. It's like you have to earn your stripes and no one tells you how that will happen. You might envision a great moment where lights shine and you realize the majesty of life as a parent. But in reality it involves things that are smelly, sticky and require one or more powerful cleaning agents in order to fix whatever damage may have occurred.

And God help me when the next defining moment roles around. I'm gonna go find that plastic tarp in the garage.