Daily Log - Friday March 14

So I was relaying my daily antics to the rest of my family at the dinner table last night. After we all had a good laugh at my expense, Jeff says I need to make a diary of my life raising Joe and Seth. You see parenthood was easy until we had "the puppies." My firstborn, wonderful child - can do no wrong (in our eyes of course) - second child, sweet, sweet baby girl, wants nothing more than to please us - third child and second boy - and fun loving, sweet as can be, gentle soul. He is the one that cried at the movie theater when Tinkerbell died in Peter Pan. He was only 2 years old. The child's middle name is "empathy." Some woman will thank us for him (great husband material). Jeff and I could have gotten big head - boy did we know what we were doing in the parenting department. I read all the parenting books "your 3 year old" "your 4 year old" and up to 10 year old.
And then Spencer was born. But he wasn't even born right. He quit breathing before birth, sent all the staff into a frenzy. He gave up on descending the birth canal and had to be pulled out. He then had to be prompted to breathe, went straight to the nursery who sent him to NICU because he wouldn't quit irrately screaming. The first time I got to see him was before his trip to Springfield as we baptised him - a bedpan holding the holy water. We know this was all a tantrum because the NICU doc said he screamed his head off until I walked into the room. I did not leave his side during his NICU stay and he did not cry once.
Seth wasn't as bad as Spencer but he was delivered by the Canadian hospital nurses (both about 20 years old looking scared to death). Not only could he not wait for the anesthesiologist, nor the OB, but he decided he didn't want his first look of life outside to be the floor, so he was born face up.
I am most certain that these boys will be what sends me to the luny bin. We are pefectly fine if we don't leave the house.
But being the glutton for punishment that I am, I venture out to take them to the library story time. Upon arriving, I notice that Spencer did not bring his shoes. He is very responsible for getting his own hat, gloves, coat and shoes on. All but today. So since the story time has started, I quickly take off Seth's shoes, squeeze Joe's feet into them, and carry Seth into the library (thinking it doesn't look as bad for a baby to not have shoes as a 3 year old.) The group is painting dinosaurs. spencer won't have his picture taken by the librarian and won't paint. Seth, however, would love to paint but the class is only for 3-5 year old and the directions were very specific on this. So Seth grabs the brush, gets a big dunk of yellow paint and waves the brush. Oh he happens to hit the dinosaur amidst swings but he definately needs to work on his fine motor. As it happens, Joe now inists on painting. So here the puppies are fighting over the brush, Seth won't give it up, Joe desparately wants it. I'm thinking why do I bother. Then a very smart young mother with her first child offers me advice on how to cure Seth's red cheeks. With every ounce of my self control, I just smile give her a "wow, I'll have to try that" and continue juggling my puppies.
After story time, we headed to the mall to pick up gifts for friends. In Bath & Body Works, I'm studying a product and the clerk say "excuse me your boys are putting something on each other." What I see is Spencer holding a bottle upside down and squeezing with both hands over Seth's head and Seth holding a bottle upside down and squeezing onto the floor. Mind you, these two are properly strapped into the stroller and I've been looking for 1 minute. Luckily the products were testers and the clerk didn't make me pay for them. Not having a towel handily placed in my double umbrella stroller, I take off Spencer's shirt, sop up the mess, put his shirt back on, pay and quickly exit. Seth now looks like Albert Einstein and I'm not done with my errands.
After relaying this to my mom, she tells me to bring the boys over and go get a massage. Thank God for moms.