Simon's paternity leave has been a little bit unconventional and wonky. He generally goes in pretty early in the morning and gets out somewhere between one and three in the afternoon. We'll enjoy this schedule for 2.5 more weeks with some weekends of normal 12-14 hour shifts sprinkled in for good measure. I can't exactly complain but I most certainly wanted to circa 6:45 this morning.
It began with a jarring wake up of both Sebastian and Julia crying. I quickly determined that Julia's cries were louder and more annoying so I went to get her soggy bottom first. Not only was she in the throws of the nastiest tantrum but she was also (somewhat impressively) saturated in her own urine from neck to ankle. I changed her diaper and outfit while she continued to throw a back arching tantrum and while Sebastian's cries crescendoed muy rapido. I tried to put her down with her blanket and bottle but she all but hung her little legs around my neck for fear the ground might swallow her whole so I grabbed the male tyrant-mini to find that he had also saturated his outfit in bebe urine. Changing his diaper is a bit of a process with the circumcision dressing needing special attention, his little robot legs flailing everywhere and the very real possibility that he will fire yellow at will. So ... changing him while holding the she-boulder really wasn't an option. Sorry Sebastian. I carried the needlings to the living room to nurse Sebastian thinking that maybe I might distract Julia with an empty toothbrush package from her toy bin or maybe a reading from the Spanish/English dictionario. Nope. She stayed firmly planted on my lap while I fed an almost inconsolable little S. I attempted a polite cover up with the nursing cover but she wanted a little show to watch while she enjoyed her morning bottle. Whatever. In the midst of all of this mundane morning monotony...I was struck with what I can only describe as labor allllll over again. Lovely. The blessed after birth pains had found the perfect time to attackattackattack.
Luckily...Julia soon found a speck of dust that struck her fancy so she dismounted my lap and crawled away. Silence proceeded. Not good. I got up and peered around the corner to find her scaling the (ungated...my fault) stairs. This would be fine except for the fact that the second she stops and thinks about turning around she generally goes tumbling down backwards to the hardwood floor, an ugly meltdown and a couple of pretty bruises. So...while still nursing and basically enduring the joy of labor all over again I scaled the stairs and grabbed an angry/guilty/flailing Julia. Sebastian didn't skip a beat and clung to his food source for dear life ... smart, strong-gummed boy. Please keep in mind that my nursing cover had been cast aside by J and while I was running to rescue her...it flew out behind me like a cape. A pretty floral cape. I hope the neighbors saw...party in the front...party in the back.
This is getting boring. I hope you stopped reading and have moved onto more important things.
Anyway...Julia kindly settled in for a view of the nursing show from the comfort of the ground (pictured above) and I suppose we had a nice moment ... just the three of us.
Julia was soon whisked away by a kind-hearted grandma to eat some breakfast and drink her third bottle of the morning while I went to finally change poor Sebastian's diaper. While juggling the ointment, wipes, new diaper and gauze...little S decided to fire a good 1/4 cup of urine allllllll over his hair, face and eventually filling his left ear canal...making him very angry and me very amused.
End unexciting story.
(well....the truly happy ending came with some Percocet, a large mug of pumpkin spiced coffee and some uncharitable text messages about residency sent in Simon's direction but we like to keep the 'grace is a martyr' theme alive and kicking so we'll leave those parts out)
Sorry for subjecting you to thirty minutes of my cr-a-a-a-a-azy day. I'll have to rip this out and put it in the intangible baby book...sometime soon.