Rocking the Bumbo, Part 2

Jack and I are still enchanted with the Bumbo chair.  We busted ours out this weekend and Jack had a grand time.  Granted, the process of sitting up, holding your head up, and playing with a Whoozit can take it out of you:

But it's all good.

I do, however, have to make one warning about the Bumbo chair to all future parents and future Bumbo users.  And no, it is not the warning about putting your Bumbo on the table or counter.  (You're not supposed to do that.  As you see in the picture above, I am not necessarily following that advice.) 

On the contrary, it is this:  the Bumbo seat is the PoopMaker.  I don't know if it is the sitting stance, or the foamy contours of the wonderous chair, but it's creating the perfect storm.  Yes, and by storm, I mean shitstorm.  Each time Jack has graced the Bumbo chair, he has had an explosive poop that shoots up the front, up the back, or both. 

He likes it.  He gets to sit in the chair and feels much better after the poopy deed is done.  I refuse to be intimated by a poopy diaper, so I'm good with it, too.  But if I am really charting our adventures as parents here, I needed to share. 

Hope this finds you well,

Heather