Camper woke up crying today at 7 am and pretty much cried all day; look at him wrong, don't share a toy, share a toy, it didn't matter, he was a screamer. Liam wanted nothing but to either watch TV, "do his work" (Liam refers to playing on the computer as "doing my work") or eat chocolate chips and/or some gross-ass popsicles (that Nikki bought last weekend. "Slow Melt" popsicles?! What the fuck is that!? It can't be good for you!).
It's eleven pm and Camper finally stopped running around about 45 minutes ago. I've barely had a minute to myself all day. They wouldn't play outside unless I was with them. They wouldn't play (nicely) inside unless I was with them. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without Camper following me and pounding on the door (if I dared shut it!).
I tried taking them to the library for the reading time this morning, but Camper was such a little asshole, we had to leave. He was screaming, yelling, throwing books, grabbing things from other kids, and crawling up on the table. It was really great. I was the father of that kid.
It's only Tuesday, but I'm already starting to go batty. I get tweets from a twitter-bot that lists all the beers on tap in PDX I get tweets from BikePortland describing all the fun Pedalpalooza events ... and I get to hang out in Hillsboro with a 2-year-old and a 4-year-old (we're still carless, so the only way into PDX is on the MAX, which is fine, but not realistic with the boys and any bikes).
Today was one of those days where I had to keep reminding (and trying to convince) myself that I'm one of the lucky ones. Most dads don't get to see this much of thier children....
Tomorrow will be better.