SassyMama

Just Not Feeling It...

2012-02-02T13:25:00.000-08:00

Hi all.
Yep, still here.
Nope, no longer sick (at least the kids... I've got this cough that after two weeks continues to hang on by its fingernails, but I digress...).

Ear drums healing.
Everyone breathing without wheezing.
I really can't complain.
Except for the fact that one of the kids has regressed (in terms of potty training) since being sick. Four accidents in a period of three hours today. While schlepping three three-year-olds in and out of appointments all morning. I mean, REALLY??? *sigh* I am mentally and emotionally spent.

As for physically... I am tired in a good way.

I have been getting up to work out at 0515 every morning this week. I have gone back to spin class now that my shoulder is almost-but-not-totally-healed (one more round of injections this month will hopefully do it), which is great. For some reason, whether it be the mirrors (really... I seem to look almost...hot!), the camaraderie of knowing everyone else is also there to sweat the Nile, or simple delusion, I always FEEL skinnier when I am at spin class. It isn't that I AM skinnier, mind you. Believe me, that isn't it. Yet, watching myself in the mirror at spin class always gives me a little boost.

I have added motivation... Matt and I have an upcoming vacation. Yes, the lack of the phrase "and kids" was not an error. We will be sans triplets for two weeks (*Eek! Mini-panic attack.... Ok, I can move on now...). And as we will be going somewhere nice and warm, and as I am currently too pudgy to fit with any dignity into my shorts and such, exercise must be a priority. It is not just about health now, people, this is about having something to wear!

So I'm sure I will have something more interesting to write soon. We have been doing fun things, really, we have:). Just too lazy to blog about it all right now. Maybe this weekend. Making a feeble attempt this afternoon to catch up on blogs...

Have a great weekend!

When It Rains, It's a Monsoon...

2012-01-23T09:12:00.000-08:00

Parker was misdiagnosed at an Urgent Care last weekend (talking about it would just get me riled up... let's just leave it at that). The treatment he was given made his actual illnesses much worse. So two days later, I was holding him while he writhed in pain and cried about his ear in the waiting room of his Pediatrician's office. It was really, really terrible. He was inconsolable. His ear drum ruptured while they were weighing him... fluid and puss came out of his ear canal. And all the sudden I had a different boy. He was hungry. He smiled. He was perfectly happy to watch a movie on the iPad while the adults talked. Turns out he also had a raging case of Strep Throat (only one of the things Urgent Care missed...). Five days and a couple medications later... he is back to his happy self.

Meantime, Emery and Isaac picked up the current virus being passed around. Dry cough that lingers forever. True to his "lunger" roots, Isaac has had the hardest time and after almost a week of dealing with it at home with nebulizer treatments and steroids, he visited the doctor's office on Friday. His oxygen saturation was low, and so now with a prolonged course of steroids as well as antibiotics and frequent neb treatments, he is doing better. Emery was holding her own just on neb treatments... until yesterday dinner time when she suddenly started complaining of ear pain. No fever. Just really bad ear pain. That and "Not feeling well". So I took her to a (different) Urgent Care. One that staffs only Pediatricians. By the time I got there, I again had a child who was inconsolable (really? Same dance, one week later...). She was crying and didn't even want to watch a movie (gasp! That is when I knew it was bad...). While waiting in the room for the doctor... she suddenly sat up and vomited all over both of us. And then stood up to repeat the same all over the exam room floor.

Nice.
She promptly told me her ear didn't hurt anymore:).

Anyway, luckily her lungs are good and don't need any additional treatments, but she has infections in both ears. The doctor surmised that her vomiting was due to severe pain, poor girl. Makes sense considering that by the time the ibuprofen kicked in and I got her home she was famished... and hasn't vomited since.

Three infected ears.
Two lungers.
One strep throat.
And you wouldn't believe how many medications.
My work as a nurse on a very busy cardiac floor is coming in handy... juggling multiple medication modalities and schedules on different patients:).

We seem to be making up for the nine months or so we went without a sick-child visit to the doctor's office:)

Month Forty-One

2012-01-12T14:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

Last week you started your Sunbeams class in Primary on Sundays. So far so good. But per report, the three of you come as a package deal. When one of you raised your hand and was called on to participate, all of you got up and walked to the front of the room, two waiting patiently while the third completed the activity, then, as a unit, you returned to your seats. Apparently this went on the entire time:).

I wish that I had pictures... but you have really enjoyed "sledding" down the hill in a nearby park on cardboard. I saved a few large boxes from Christmas and we spent the next Saturday morning laughing and giggling our way down the hill. At least we have video...

Your favorite toys from this Christmas are the C.olorama game (you three want to play every.single.day!), Original C.olorforms, crafts and art sets, helicopters and car launcher (for the boys), and A.ngelina B.allerina and dot art kit (for Emery). Next we have to break out a couple more games you got as presents.

Emery: You ADORE your ballet/tap class. I watch you concentrating as you attempt to keep your leg straight while doing an arabesque, turning your knees out while doing a plie in second position, and as you try to spin the correct direction. What a big girl you are!

Drama should be your middle name. You no longer dramatically flail on the floor, but you will, during tantrums drop to the ground, head on the floor in fetal position and pout like a pro:).

I can get you to wear almost everything if I put "Princess" in front of it. Princess dress. Princess skirt. Princess headband. Princess shoes. One thing it doesn't work on? Jeans. I am a lover of jeans. And you, my daughter, are suddenly (starting on December 24th-- you informed me pants are for boys...) insisting on wearing skirts. Every day. At all costs. I had to go shopping!

You have started calling your brothers "My boys". "Where are my boys?", you will ask. Or as we are leaving school, you will occasionally call to them, "Come on, my boys!".

Parker: Lately the measuring tape is your favorite toy. You want to measure everything... and everyone.

When I tell you that you need to do something that you don't want to do your response is a prolonged and sing-song "Because..." as you proceed to "explain" to me why you desperately want to do the forbidden activity and should therefore be allowed to do so. I can appreciate your tenacity... most of the time:).

During our excursion into cold weather over Christmas, you became unusually attached to your snow boots. Very unusually attached. I had to clearly insist that they could not be worn to bed:). And even after returning to the Land of Sun and Warmth, you wanted to wear the snow boots EVERYDAY. Finally, one day when you were running errands with me, we wandered through a shoe department. Lo and behold, you fell head over heels for a pair of C.ars themed shoes. I bought them after extracting a promise from you that we would put the snow boots away until next year. And you have worn your C.ars shoes every day since...

You give the best hugs!!! Occasionally as I sing your favorite songs to you and rub your head at bedtime, you will suddenly turn towards me and with an enormous grin on your face, will throw your arms around my neck and land a big kiss.

Isaac: You love school. Every night when as I am putting you to bed, I ask you what your favorite part of the day was. 90% of the time you will say "Miss Julia and Miss Riann" (your teachers)... sometimes even on days that you didn't go to school:).

You also love going to Primary on Sundays. Yesterday I went to pull you out for a moment and your bottom lip stuck out as tears welled up in your eyes. You kept pointing back towards Sharing Time. "Go back!", you kept telling me:).

Your giggle is infectious and I love to make you laugh. You are now doing a little Occupational Therapy to help with fine motor movement. This last week you got to "make the fuzzy balls run". It was your favorite thing! Using a turkey baster, you blew the balls across the table, giggling like crazy every time you were successful. You even had Miss Alicia laughing!

D.arth V.ader voices also make you laugh. As does your D.arth V.ader shirt (although you don't actually understand who he is...). Other things that you love include your new l.ite brite, "button art", and your absolute favorite things to eat... peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pasta with cheese.

Clearly things are changing. Our trip up to Grandma and Grandpa's was the smoothest yet. You do well at restaurants (as long as we bring along enough distractions!), and love going to the museums, playing with cousins and doing projects.

I marvel at your independence... and that I can finally negotiate and reason (a little... sometimes...) with you. Yes, each of you can throw an Olympic Size Tantrum when you feel it is called for, but I am happy to report that I do believe the worst is behind us:). I love playing games with you, and I can see your little brains working as you look for an empty game space for your shape, or match two cards.

You are becoming "big kids", and I am so very proud to watch you participate in classes and beam with pride when you master a new skill. But skills are not always easy to master and there will be disappointments and stumbles along your way.

Just remember you are loved.
Very, very much.

Love,
Mom

A Long, Picture-Filled Christmas Post...

2012-01-09T08:48:00.000-08:00

So, as I mentioned, we spent two weeks over Christmas with my parents. My brother, his wife and two girls (including a new baby!) live near them. My younger sister and her family also came into town. So we had a full house! Six kids under four! Periodically we tipped perilously close to chaos, but all the kids were great and enjoyed playing together.

The plane flights were delightfully devoid of major meltdowns or delays (Yay!) In fact, the whole travel process was down right smooth (thus confirming my preference to avoid driving for at least another year or two....).

We kept the kids busy by frequenting the two children's museums in the area, letting them run unconfined in my parent's huge basement playroom, going on drives to see Christmas lights, and doing the sort of things found in the pictures that follow...

We decorated sugar cookies.

We went caroling to friends. It was nice and cold outside so we bundled up (complete with Santa hats!) and by the time we headed back home our "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was sounding pretty good!

The big bearded guy stopped by for a visit. Compared to two years ago, the kids were decidedly more excited to see him!

The stockings were hung...

Christmas Eve we attempted a Nativity play. It was mostly a joke, but entertaining to have the kids in their makeshift "costumes".

As always, we had the opening of pajamas on Christmas Eve...

Now, when it came to getting a picture of all the kids in their church clothes... let's just say we have had more successful photo shoots...

But Isaac and Parker thought the whole thing was funny... and eventually they got Emery all riled up also.

We ran around in the church gym one morning in an (successful) attempt to wear the kids out.

And most importantly, we spent lots of time with Grandma and Grandpa (and discovered Parker has a particular affinity for snow globes...)

We had a fun, crazy, festive, memorable and cozy Christmas!

Thanks, Grandma and Grandpa!!!

My Favorite Five Hours Of A Year EVER

2012-01-02T11:53:00.000-08:00

We had a really great two weeks visiting my parents in The Most Beautiful Place On Earth. Really, really great. That post will follow.

But today is the first of a brand new year.
And so far, only five hours in, I can honestly say it is my favorite year ever:).

Why, you might ask?
Well,
The house is sparkling clean (and I didn't do it).
An old and treasured friend dropped by for a brief visit on her way through town.
Dinner is in the crock pot.
It is a warm, sunny Winter day.
Our electric meter is running backwards thanks to 52 new solar panels on the roof.
I took the kids on a very long and lazy walk... and they stayed by me the whole way.
We played in crunchy leaves.
And on returning, Emery's Barbie is playing nicely with Isaac's airplane pilot while Parker's monster truck happily put-puts along the counter tops.

No, it won't last forever.
It never does.
But right now I am enjoying every minute of it.
So far I am a big fan of this 2012!

Wishing you and yours an exciting, happy, peaceful and healthy New Year.

P.S-- Wow... the kids are growing up! Time to change the header photos!

What I Read In 2011

2011-12-31T15:51:00.000-08:00

Purely for my own records...

Silver Girl by Elin Hilderbrand (Fiction)

Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (Fiction)

Tracking the Jackal by David Yallop (Non-fiction)

Saving CeeCee Honeycutt by Beth Hoffman (Fiction)

The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddharta Mukherjee (Non-fiction)

Love and Logic Magic for Early Childhood by Jim and Charles Fay (Parenting)

In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson (Non-fiction)

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand (Non-fiction)

Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny (Fiction)

Room by Emma Donoghue (Fiction)

The Ayatollah Begs to Differ by Hooman Majd (Non-fiction)

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi (Non-fiction)

A Time to Betray by Reza Kahlili (Non-fiction)

The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom (Fiction)

The Persian Puzzle by Kenneth M. Pollack (Non-fiction)

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte (Fiction)

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson (Fiction)

Matterhorn by Karl Marlantes (Fiction)

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (Non-fiction)

Tell No One by Harlan Coben (Fiction)

The Samurai's Garden by Gail Tsukiyama (Fiction)

Playful Parenting by Lawrence J. Cohen (Parenting)

All the Shah's Men by Stephen Kinzer (Non-fiction)

Such a Long Journey by Rohinton Mistry (Fiction)

Screamfree Parenting by Hal Edward Runkel (Parenting)

Mommy! I Have to Go Potty! by Jan Faull (Parenting)

Hellhound on His Trail by Hampton Sides (Non-fiction)

The Confession by John Grisham (Fiction)

First Day of Dance

2011-12-16T15:21:00.000-08:00

So I finally found Emery a dance class that works with our schedule:).

Doesn't she look cute??? With her tights and leotard, hair in a bun, and tap and ballet shoes in her "ballerina backpack"?

We actually tried to go to another class just before Thanksgiving... we showed up and not a single person was there. The receptionist had failed to mention to me just two days prior that the class hadn't actually started up because there weren't enough girls signed up. Argh. Emery was heartbroken.

But this class was great. It took her about 5 minutes to become comfortable, but soon she was leaping and turning with the rest of them.

And I was beaming with pride the whole time:).

Month Forty

2011-12-12T09:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

Lately you have been having VERY interesting conversations in the back seat of the car. In particular you have been working out family relationships, like son, daughter, cousin, brother, sister, etc. Emery, although clear she is a girl and that Isaac and Parker are her brothers, is still convinced she is a father... we clearly still have some work to do:).

We have separated you at night. Into three separate rooms. We didn't separate you after you poured buckets of water all over the bathroom floor (our fault for having turned the water back on temporarily and then forgetting to shut it off). We also didn't separate you after weeks of partying for two hours after bed time, or the time you slathered the bathroom counter and mirrors with lotion. Nor the numerous times you have completely dismantled the room. No, the final straw came last Monday (of course, the day of your Christmas program at school... first thing in the morning), when one of you (and yes, I have a good guess...) managed to climb up into the closet and get to my stash of kiddie shampoo and toothpaste. And then proceeded to dump it all over the bathroom floor (as well as some of the bedroom carpet), creating a standing layer of slippery goo. Plus, you were creative enough to completely cover the cabinets and mirrors with toothpaste. Nice. Sorry, kids, the party is OVER!

Emery: Darling, you have something to say about everything. And it is often PRESSING that you express it:). Right now. And it often has something to do with what your brothers have done or are doing. Which may come in handy as you all get older:).

Headbands are your new favorite "princess ballerina" accessory. I bought you a new pair of "Princess shoes" last week (your old ones had nearly disintegrated from heavy use), and you insisted on taking them into your room at night, but promised not to wear them in your bed. So when checking on you, I snapped this photo. What you can't see in this picture is that you are also wearing (as has become your habit), a "princess skirt" over your pajamas:).

You start your first dance class tomorrow. I haven't told you because I am convinced that you would explode from sheer anticipation overnight. But I am so looking forward to seeing your excitement when I put on your leotard tomorrow!

Parker: If someone enters the home with something your are interested in, you simply claim it as yours. For example, my phone, (now with a red case) is known to you as "Parker's red phone", my briefcase is "Parker's suitcase". And when last week your Father came home with a bag that looked interesting to you, you named it "Parker's bag". The only problem is that you ACTUALLY consider these things yours and get upset when we don't let you have what you clearly believe to be your rightful property:).

Baseball. Basketball. Football. If a ball is involved, you are interested. I like college football, and you would get excited when a game came on (calling it, of course, "Parker's football!") and would sit and watch it with us for long periods of time.

My son, you wander. In and out of people. You are right next to me one minute, and the next you are across a crowded room of people, just weaving in and out, exploring the terrain. Ugh! We have to keep a close eye on you:). You love to have us play with you. And one of us has been gone for a period of time, we will be met not only with a huge smile and big hug, but also a tugging on the hand and the request: "Do you want to come play with me?". Of course, we do.

Isaac: You are independent and generally easy-going. But WATCH OUT when you get mad. It doesn't happen often, but when it does (usually fueled by much activity and no nap)... Katy bar the door! You become seemingly inconsolable. I have found after I give you a minute or two to calm down, a nice back rub, lullaby and your favorite blankets usually do the trick:).

Last night we exchanged gifts with your cousins in town. The cousin who chose your name picked out a truck carrier complete with monster trucks. You insisted it be opened immediately. I declined as there were many small parts included in the package. As a compromise, I pulled out one of the monster trucks for you to play with until we got home. Clearly not good enough, you threw a major tantrum (see reaction to sleep-deprivation above...). After you calmed down and realized the truck really wouldn't get opened until we got home, you carried the large package around with you until we left, periodically stopping to gaze through the clear plastic lovingly at the truck, running your hands along the packaging. True love:).

Last year you wanted nothing to do with your Santa hat. This year, you found them when scouring the Christmas box I was going through. And (that is, until I put them in the suitcase to take to Grandma and Grandpa's house...) insisted on wearing it all of your waking (and sleeping for that matter... I got a picture!) hours.

Your new favorite activity is to play with alphabet cans. I am ashamed to say I have had these cans for about 18 months. In fact, I "gave" them to you for Christmas last year... but didn't actually break them out into action until a few weeks ago. You all heart them. We take them one can at a time, taking turns naming the pictures found inside. I love watching your faces beam with pride as you get them right.

I went to your FIRST Christmas program at preschool last week. I have become that typical mother, sitting on the front row, finger at the iPhone video record button (as was, to be fair, every other parent on the front row...), waiting anxiously for your entrance. But let me be clear. Participation was not your strong suit. Any of you. But at least Isaac sang a little and managed to do a few actions before becoming preoccupied with a sticker near his feet on the risers. But I can't complain, seeing as that video I shot alternately includes Emery with her finger up her nose and sweater dress hiked up with thumbs tucked into her leggings. Oh, and Parker. I guess I should just be glad he stood there nicely instead of screaming like the girl next to him. Entertainment at its finest!

This Christmas season has been enjoyable so far. You get excited about seeing Santa Claus at activities (i.e., Preschool program), but want nothing to do with sitting on his lap. You have developed a true appreciation for candy canes (Emery managed to finagle three in one day!). You gladly indulge my love of Christmas music and sit quietly while it plays in the car. And every day I find the figures from our plastic nativity set organized in some new and often odd manner. But most of all... you "get" presents. You love to rip off the wrapping, nearly jumping with excitement. This Christmas should be fun!

Love,
Mom

Bullet Points. Yes, It Has Come To That

2011-12-09T09:57:00.000-08:00

* Yes, bullet points (or asterisks...). Because I haven't blogged forever and simply can't get myself to sit at the computer long enough to put together one or more coherent posts.

*My shoulder is much improved. Much. Much. Improved. I heart steroid shots:). My pain level has gone down by 80%. I sleep all.night.long. It must be repeated-- I am not awake for hours at a time each night because of pain. And more sleep + (almost) no constant pain = (more) patience with the kids and a much happier mother. Strange... over three months I seemed to have developed a new baseline-- in a way I got "used to" being in pain all the time and as a result, it wasn't until the pain decreased significantly that I really appreciated how much pain I had actually been in the whole time. Man, that was rough:)

*We had a contractor come to the house yesterday. The kids were immediately drawn to him. Parker took him by the hand and led him to his favorite toys. Emery was nice enough to inform him that one of her brothers had just peed in his pants (a distinctly abnormal event around here when they are awake, thus being a subject of much perusal by Emery...) and that she had kept her underwear clean and dry all day. Thanks for sharing, Emmie:).

* In a period of 10 days over Thanksgiving, I started in with bronchitis, was diagnosed with Pink Eye (thanks, kids), thrush in my throat (thank you, inhaled steroids--which I take for my asthma-- for the worst sore throat of my entire life), and finally, three days later with a sinus infection. Yeah, it was quite a week.

* My parents came into town for Thanksgiving!! We had a wonderful time. Hikes, crafts, gingerbread house decorating, plus of course, much eating of turkey and such. Unfortunately my poor mother arrived with the stomach flu (not our fault) and left with Pink Eye (definitely our fault). Between me, my Mom and two kids with pink eye, the house was a virtual sick bay. Kudos to Matt and Grandpa for picking up the slack!

Month Thirty-Nine

2011-11-14T09:25:00.000-08:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

Wow! Halloween this year was quite the treat! Last year we took you to a few houses and you apathetically watched candy go into your bags. This year? This year you ran screaming from house to house with your five-year-old twin cousins, bags and arms flailing while yelling "CANDY!!!!" the whole way:). It was like a light switch flipped on.

You mother loves Ethiopian food. A deep, abiding love which stems from going to medical school in a big city and living near a really fabulous Ethiopian restaurant. I frequently got take-out after long call shifts. Comfort food at it's finest:). Anyway, last weekend, indulging a serious craving, I got us take-out at a local restaurant. Not quite as good as my old haunt, but close enough to satisfy me completely. You all ate at least some. I think the novelty of picking up the food in the Enjera sucked you in and even Isaac (you picky eater, you) ate some lentils. I think Parker ate a full adult-sized portion:). Well done!

Emery: This month is all about ballerinas. Princess ballerinas to be precise. For Halloween you wore a dress my mother made for one of your cousins ten years ago. You were in heaven, walking around smoothing out the skirt and replacing your tiara (sometimes upside down) which repeatedly fell off your head.

But your obsession with ballerinas extends beyond just Halloween. You have a few skirts and frequently (like every day) request to wear them. Every where. No matter what else you are wearing, as long as you have one of the ballerina skirts on, all is right with the world:

A few days ago, one of your brothers was crying (who will remain nameless...). "______ is crying, Daddy!!!" you said in an annoyed and slightly distressed voice. "Daddy, he's crying like a BOY!"

Parker: You, my son are mischievous! Whether it is collecting all of the big wheels/tricycles in the bathroom, carrying around boxes with which to climb onto counters, or pulling down the barriers we set up to keep you out of the den (in a frequently-successful attempt to reach the stash of dollar-store presents I keep for bribery...), you are always into something. The pantry. The fridge. My jewelry. Our drawers. And you have sticky fingers. It is common for me to find a lipstick, necklace, hair clip in your pocket at night:)

I think it may be a result of having watched your first episode of Dora (but it also could be because I have been using a backpack recently as a "diaper bag"), but you have become obsessed with having a backpack. So you commandeered a bag I used to transport milk bottles, and fill it with treasures before slinging it over your shoulder.

You have (and in truth, have always had) very distinct opinions. You still love red, but also want your clothes to have numbers on them. When I pull out a shirt in the morning you laugh "My Seven Eight shirt!!!". Wall-E is your new favorite movie and is all you ever want to watch. And now you MUST always be wearing your brown shoes (clearly the above picture was taken before that phase kicked in!)

Isaac: You continue to love discovering how things work. Dad got on the treadmill the other day you were fascinated... looking underneath, wanting to touch the belts, intensely curious to see what was moving and why. You will also (that is, when you aren't running and jumping around the house like a banshee...) lay quietly on the activity rug, mesmerized by the wheels as you move a car or bus slowly along the roads.

One of your favorite games to play is to run from me when I want a kiss. All.the.time. Which means a few times a day I am chasing after you yelling "Kissssssiiiiieeee, I want a kissssss!!" as you squeal loudly and collapse in a snorting flop onto a bean bag.

You are all about letters. The letter puzzle mats, the letter games on the iphone/ipad, the letter file folder games I made a year ago and never thought you would all get around to playing with. Small letters. Capital letters. You form them into words (in your iPhone games) and giggle when you get them right.

Over the last few years I have schlepped the three of you over to a local portrait studio once or twice a year in a vain struggle for a good picture. This last August I took you just because it was your birthday. As in previous visits, you failed to follow directions and wanted nothing to do (well, with precious little exception) with having your pictures taken. And also as before, I left with only one or two decent pictures, sweating and swearing to myself that would be the last time.

So it was with trepidation that I booked an appointment for last weekend. But I was intent, and I do mean INTENT on getting even a single decent shot of the five of us together (and, one of the three of you, pretty please.) It was a bad sign when they were running so far behind that it was a full hour after our appointment time before we stepped into the studio. And yet... the woman asked you three to sit on the floor cross-legged... and one by one you happily plopped yourself down. Did I mention you did it HAPPILY????. And this crazy streak of direction-following madness continued! We got pictures. GOOD pictures. So many good pictures of you three that I will have to choose which one/ones to use for the Christmas card this year (it might take some serious photoshopping for me to be happy with how I look in the family pictures, but the rest of you look fabu!!)

The last few months have been rougher than usual.
I have been in a lot of pain.
And not very patient.
But you are great kids.
And I am finally doing better.
And despite my impatience, I love you deeply.
Each of you.
It can only get better from here!

Love,
Mom

Because I Am Just That Lucky

2011-11-10T15:10:00.000-08:00

Monday I had the MRI arthrogram of my shoulder... which is really something I could live without doing ever again. But it had to be done, and within 18 hours or so I was functioning pretty well. And I had the report in my grubby little hands. I have a labral tear (Boo!), and some rotator cuff tendinitis/bursitis, but no tears (Yay!). Saw Dr. Ortho yesterday and good news! No surgery for now (Yay!!) because although I have some symptoms from the tear, the majority of my pain and difficulty is not explained by the tear. I might have to have surgery in the future... but it won't be this year:). So he did some steroid injections in hopes that my shoulder will calm down. He also told me to rest it for five days. No physical therapy. No strenuous activity. No "carrying and moving your kids all around".

Rest my dominant shoulder?
With three-year-old triplets???
Is he smoking crack?

Too bad he couldn't have explained the whole "rest" thing to the kids...

Anyway, I headed home about 2:00pm looking forward to eating (stomach growling after just having a yogurt at 7:00am) and an hour or so to ice and rest my shoulder before picking the kids up from preschool. Shouldn't have been too bad. Pick the kids up, buckle them into the car seats, bring them home, let them play and intervene only when the weapons come out or when the fighting started to shake the house. Otherwise I could rest my shoulder and just heat up leftovers for dinner.

I hadn't been home 10 minutes before I got a phone call... it appeared Emery had pink eye (has been going around their class). So much for lunch (and rest...). I was able to talk Dr. Peds office into adding us on as their last appointment, and I headed off to pick up the kids (I had to get them all-- Matt as a loaner car right now and therefore no car seats). And because I am JUST THAT LUCKY, both Emery and Isaac peed their pants just before I got there (Really? I can't remember the last time either of them did that). Which meant not only did my supposedly-resting shoulder have to wrestle with both of the boys in the car (they chose that special moment to have a particularly aggressive version of the perennial fight over who had to sit in the middle), but I had two kids to clean and change when we got home (not, I imagine, all things that Dr. Ortho was thinking of when he told me to "rest"). Just in time to load up a (heavy) bag full of distractions for three three-year-olds who would no doubt be in for a long wait at the doctor's office.

We managed to survive the appointment with my shoulder (and much more surprisingly, my patience...) relatively intact, but all Hell broke loose in the car on the way home.

Laughing, screeching, yelling, hitting, kicking.
Welcome to tripletdom (Dang it, I need my rental van back-- the kids couldn't touch each other!)

I had to drop off Emery's prescription to be filled. And considering the hunger-and-sleep-deprived-fueled mayhem occurring in my back seat, taking the kids into the pharmacy was not a workable option (in all honesty, taking the kids into the pharmacy unconfined is barely a workable option in the best of circumstances... and these were not them). So I took my place as the fourth car in the drive-thru line. The woman in front of me was at the window for ELEVEN minutes. A VERY LONG eleven minutes, I assure you. Let's just say that I'm awfully glad the kids aren't old enough to have videotaped my distinctively not-patient behavior in the car on the way home from the pharmacy:).

When we finally arrived home, I turned the TV on, even before putting my purse on the counter.
Ahhhhhh, sweet brain-melting TV.

The kids were fed.
I finally ate "lunch" at 6:30.
I went to my get-together for a short visit (sampling and swapping holiday treat recipes... sounded more enticing than staying home with three rambunctious preschoolers) and it was after 8:30 when I finally collapsed on the couch with an ice pack.

Yes, it was "one of those days".
And yet... might I remind you... NO SURGERY!
Things could be much worse:)

The Gift That Keeps On Giving...

2011-10-25T09:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday marked eight weeks since The-Really-Annoying-Car-Wreck.
After $16,000 of repairs and seven weeks of a rental... I have my car back!
And I am pleased to announce that it drives like a dream:).

I saw an Orthopedic Surgeon last week.
Because although I knew I should have done so much sooner, I just kept hoping my injuries would miraculously resolve themselves with physical therapy.

They didn't.
At least not all of them.

Don't get me wrong.
Many things have improved with several hours of physical therapy a week.
(Do you have any idea what I could have done with that time????)
But I still have problems with my right shoulder in particular (as a reminder, the airbag hit my right forearm as it deployed).

I finally set aside some time to be seen by an orthopedist, and my efforts were duly rewarded by having him contort my shoulder into odd and painful maneuvers.
Blimey, that was fun.

As a result of my voluntary torture session, Dr. Orthopod ordered an MRI arthrogram.
So in a few weeks I will submit myself to a radiologist holding a ridiculously long needle, who will inject dye directly into my shoulder joint before I enter the MRI machine.

It is never a good sign when they tell you a driver must come with you... because of the pain you will be in:(.
I can't wait!

No, actually, I really don't expect it will be too bad.
But fingers crossed the test will be NEGATIVE (at least for a large labral tear).

Because if I think three sessions a week of physical therapy is wreaking havoc on my schedule, can you imagine what shoulder surgery would do????

I Guess Preschool Is Paying Off...

2011-10-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

I have a shirt that I got when Matt and I visited Maui a few years ago.
The word "HANA" is plastered across the front.

Parker and Emery in particular are really into pointing out letters lately and reviewing their sounds.
Supposedly they will start doing sight words in preschool this Spring.

Two days ago I was doing Emery's hair and she was listing off the letters on my shirt from Maui.
"H"
"A"
"N"
"A"
Just for kicks, I asked her what those letters spelled.

"Hana", she answered very clearly.
And I nearly fell over:)

Good-bye, Danny Boy

2011-10-17T09:40:00.000-07:00

Photo: News 10

Anyone who knows me well.... or has read my blog for very long will be aware that I am an IndyCar fan.
Hard.Core.
Sorry, Nascar fans, but stock cars just can't compete with open wheel/open cockpit racing at 220+mph.
At least not in my book:)

But yesterday, at the IndyCar Championships in Vegas, driver D.an W.heldon died.

Don't get me wrong.

IndyCar racing is a dangerous sport.

The drivers know it and their families know it.

There is just no room for error when running side-by-side at 225 mph.

And the merits of such a large field running on such a short, high-banked oval will be debated all Winter.

But the amazing safety features in the cars mean that we have watched countless drivers walk away (or at least suffer only minor injuries) from incredibly horrific crashes.

We just expect that they survive.

And while sitting down to eat dinner last night I couldn't keep my mind off his wife, Susie.

I kept wondering if someone was making sure she got something to eat... room service maybe.
You don't exactly go out to eat after your husband and father of your two very small children dies in a spectacularly horrible and fiery crash witnessed live by 60,000+ people and viewed millions of times on TV.

And while getting our kids ready for bed, I wondered how one puts a 2-year-old to sleep that first night when he knows something bad happened to Daddy (his whole family was at the race).

These are, btw, very rhetorical questions.
One of my closest friends is a widow and I am well aware that S.usie W.heldon's family and close friends will gently steer her through these next hours, days, weeks and months.

And yet, such questions dominated my thoughts yesterday.

He was a great driver.

He was a dedicated family man.

And he had a true passion for the sport I love.

So, along with everyone else, my thoughts are with W.heldon's family
May the Lord provide them with comfort.

Month Thirty-Eight

2011-10-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

This month was full of fun activities... ward picnic, mountains, camping, eating out, fertility center reunion (more on that to come in another post), finally eating at a "big new" table with Mom and Dad, and converting from cribs with crib tents to TODDLER BEDS (believe me, MUCH more on that to follow...). It has been a momentous month, for sure. You LOVE preschool and can't wait when we walk through your classroom door to join in the fun. You say "Hi" to the teachers and your friends, and after a quick kiss good-bye, it seems you forget that we exist.

You have all started to ride the bike (with training wheels) which your twin cousins bequeathed to you. It is the cause of much arguing. As a result, Santa (or a very generous jack-o-lantern, if we can't wait that long...) should be bringing you each your OWN bike with training wheels. That will be a most fabulous day:).

The three of you also developed a serious affinity for chopsticks (or "drumsticks" which you all call them, and then proceed to pound them on the table...).

Emery: You LOVE to eat in restaurants. Any restaurant. When I had you at home by myself over the weekend, that was your one request-- to go out to a restaurant every day. We did so. And it was so fun sitting across from you as you patiently colored while waiting for your food, and then ate it properly with your fork (now if I can only get you to do those things at home....). You also love eating salad. At least some of the time. And when you are in a salad-eating mood, you will easily down an adult-sized portion.

One of your favorite things to do with your brothers (that is, when you aren't crying or running after them screaming because they took whatever toy you happened to have been playing with at the time...) is to give them hugs. Long, tight, squeezing hugs that frequently end with one or both of you flat-out on the floor.

You, my dear girl, love to be barefooted. Even more than you like to wear your plastic princess shoes. The first thing that happens when you walk in the house is that shoes and socks come off. IMMEDIATELY. In order to avoid a lengthy battle over getting your shoes and socks back on for a short trip in the car, I have allowed you to click-click-click your way out to the car in your beloved "princess shoes". Which thrills you to no end:).

Parker: Most recently you have become attached to my D.ASH Diet book (low-sodium eating plan for hypertensives). Last Monday, you even remembered it was a day for Show and Tell and when your father told you that the book had to stay at home, you quickly informed him you were taking it to show the class:). Your teacher, having glanced at the title of the book, asked if it was a hint...

You are easily our most adventurous eater. When we brought Chinese food home last weekend, you tried everything... including eating potstickers using your beloved "drumsticks".

You said you wanted to be a "Three!" for Halloween. Needless to say, I was confused. I thought you meant a race car with the number 3? NO! You had on your favorite shirt (which, if possible, you would wear EVERY DAY) which is red, has a football on it and a large letter "3" emblazoned on the chest. Pointing to it, you insisted you must be a three! I looked for number costumes in your size... and was sorely disappointed. And, still trying to dig myself out of the hole the car accident unceremoniously dumped me into, I was not in any state to be MAKING a "three" costume. So instead, we compromised on a football player costume:). I have serious doubts as to whether you will actually wear it when the time comes...

Isaac: We recently started splitting the three of you up to nap in separate rooms. And the first day, I had your P.ea Pod Plus all ready for you. And you resisted. "NO TENT!" you said. So I pulled the mattress out of the pea pod and placed it on the rug. A huge smile crossed your face and you happily laid down with your pillow, pulled up your favorite blanket and set your books next to you. There you stayed with a goofy grin on your face as I left the room. Such a big boy!

You are, my son, a potty training pro. I can't even remember the last time you had an accident. Which (and you will understand the significance when you have your own ~~triplets~~ children...) has made me very, very happy:)

"No lights!!" is something we hear you say every night at bedtime. You loathe having the lights on in your room. Which happens to be particularly inconvenient as Emery always wants the lights on. *sigh* You have learned to compromise... not that you were particularly happy about it:)

No question now that you are most definitely three-year-olds.
With everything that entails.
Fascinating and funny things come out of your mouth? Check.
Solidly opinionated yet still easily excitable ("Yay! We are going to the store!!!")? Check.
Full tantrums, albeit fairly uncommon, are quite impressive? Check.
Insistent that "I DO IT!!!"? Check.
Yep, three years old for sure.

And in parting, just one more picture because you have been so amazingly cute this month...

Love,
Mom

Mixed Signals

2011-10-10T11:25:00.000-07:00

For those who don't know, Matt and his father are trial attorneys. My father-in-law has been in practice here for nearly forty years. As a result, they know a lot of the judges. One judge was nice enough to send several dozen exquisitely decorated baby-themed cookies to us after the kids were born... which gained us much favor with the NICU staff:).

Anyway, apparently the scuttlebutt among the district court judges is that I AM PREGNANT.

In fact, on Friday, one passed on congratulations through my father-in-law (who, as you may imagine, immediately called up Matt to ask what was going on...).

To set the record straight... I am not pregnant.
Really, I'm not.
The whole thing makes me laugh, as something clearly got lost in translation along the grapevine.
But it also makes me wonder if someone saw me and thought I looked pregnant.
A badly chosen shirt? The few pounds I put on recently?

The whole thing directly contradicts an encounter I had last week while at work. I was chatting with one of the staff members (D) who introduced me to a new radiation tech. D went on to mention that I have triplets. The tech appeared surprised and asked how old the kids were. After I answered her, she looked me up and down, at which point I sadly viewed my own belly (the car wreck has put spinning on a hopefully temporary hold, and I loathe the fact that there is a bit more girth to my stomach than I would like...). It was then she blurted out, "Did you already have a tummy tuck, or something?"

Bless her soul:).

Because Both Things Are Obviously Mutually Exclusive...

2011-10-07T14:58:00.000-07:00

This morning, after finding a large scrape on Parker's toe, I washed it and attempted put N.eosporin and a bandaid over the area...

SassyMama: Ok, Parker, we washed it well and now I will put on the owie ointment and a bandaid so it will heal better.

Parker: No owie ointment!!!

Matt: Don't worry, Parker, Mama is a doctor, she will make it all better.

Parker: *laughing* You're funny, Daddy, she's not a doctor!

Matt: No really, she is.

Parker: No. No she isn't. She's not a doctor!

Matt: Actually she is, your Mom is a doctor, so you don't have to worry.

(then comes what Parker clearly believed to be his definitive argument...)
Parker: No she isn't Dad. She's not a doctor, SHE'S A GIRL!

Singled Out

2011-09-26T09:41:00.000-07:00

Sleeping on a cot is just not in the cards for me right now... I just started sleeping all right in my own bed (neck, shoulder, etc). So I kept Emery home with me this last weekend while Matt took the two boys up with his sister and her family to go camping at an astronomy gathering.

Girls weekend!

After they left, Emery and I were playing with legos when it dawned on me.
It was the first time EVER that I have been at home with only one child.
Oh, I have taken one of the kids singly with me to run errands or go to the doctor.
But never, ever, have I had only one child home with me at a time.
95%+ of parents have that experience... either with their oldest or youngest, or both.

But I must confess that having only one child throwing demands, questions and strange comments at me machine-gun style as all three are apt to do nowadays was... totally manageable.

Much of the last three years has been overwhelming... for me. Maybe it wouldn't be as overwhelming for some other women. I read your blogs... some of you mother triplets with aplomb! But motherhood for me has been (pardon the overused phrase...) like trying to drink from a fire hydrant.

And I have wondered frequently over the last few years what it would be like to start with just one child. Would I be more relaxed? Would I find more time to sit on the floor in the playroom? Would I be less burnt out at the end of the day?

Ummm... after two days with just Emery, the answer is a resounding "Yes!".

Now this is not at all to say that having one child is EASY, but I am saying it was MANAGEABLE.

A new concept for me.

I had only one car seat to buckle and tighten... and then loosen and unbuckle with every errand. We went out to a restaurant and I ACTUALLY GOT TO EAT! She got to try on princess dresses (she wants to be a "princess ballerina" for Halloween) and we pulled out the magnetic doll which we dressed and undressed in princess clothes. We were ready for church 10 minutes early. While I made dinner she played by herself and I actually completed the entire meal preparation without interruption. *gasp* Although I must admit when we went to the park and there were very few children there, she seemed to be at a loss without her brothers:).

We chatted as she painstakingly built and then carefully dismantled (only to pair the pieces together another way and rebuild) towers made out of legos. I finally had nothing in the world to do but listen to her.
There was no WWE-like fighting going on the other room.
There was no one yelling for help in the bathroom.
There was no one interrupting me in need of a particular toy, their shoes, to kiss an owie, for more water in their cup, or because someone "squished" them.
Again, I must repeat.... THERE WAS NO FIGHTING!

There was just the two of us and a large pile of legos.

Emery and I had a great time together.
As someone whose only experience in motherhood has been in triplicate... I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend with just one So much so that I intend to periodically keep someone home from preschool so that I can have some one-on-one time with each of them.

A little nugget of pure enjoyment in this crazy journey through motherhood...

Month Thirty-Seven

2011-09-14T14:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

A few months ago, I started playing"L.et Your Love Flow" by the B.ellamy Brothers. A lot. Very old school, I know. Something about it makes me happy. And lately, meal times have started to frequently devolve into chaos (you are still fitting into the feeding table-- which means you are TOUCHING EACH OTHER constantly, but in the next several months we will start eating together properly...), I find it to be a particularly appropriate time for musical distraction. So I put on the song through the house speakers and start to dance uninhibited in front of the feeding table. Emery almost invariably will start grooving, Isaac will depending on his mood, and Parker releases a series of "No dancing, Mama!" "Bad choice, Mama!". Apparently, Parker, you find my dancing to be less than attractive:). For the last few weeks, through stomach bugs, car accidents, your father busting his knee, and more stomach bugs, I have been in need of musical happiness more than ever. My dancing is a bit more stilted (neck, back and shoulder not yet back to previous working order), but I groove enough to get the endorphins moving. Parker seems to have given up the fight... he now just watches the rest of us, nonplussed until the song is over ... that is, until I dance up to him and sing in his face, which invariably produces eruptions of giggles from all three of you.

My camera (really, the attached lens) is heavy so I can't hang it around my neck right now. As a result I have taken less than a handful of pictures in the last three weeks. *sigh* Oh well, the rest of your life so far is very well-documented, this month will just have to be the exception:)

Emery: Your new favorite word is "Prettiful!", as in, "Oh, Mama. You look so prettiful!".
For months you have carried Wissy around in "her blanket" (actually the blanket your Aunt Jenn made for you when you were born-- you favorite one), but recently you take her EVERYWHERE with you. And you will occasionally come running up to me, distraught, because one of the boys gave her "owies". Kisses from Mom along with some hugs from you seems to always do the trick and within no time she is off to again join in the fray.

As of last week, you are all about ballerinas. And princesses. Both things that barely hit your radar screen a month ago. You love watching O.livia, and she loves to be a ballerina, so I am guessing that is where your new interest started. You occasionally tell me to watch and then spin and jump while explaining you are a ballerina princess. I am looking for dance classes and hope to find one for you to start in January:)

Parker: You are not a fan of having your picture taken. I do believe you have enjoyed the reprieve the last few weeks have afforded you. But when I did pull out my camera, you kept pleading, "No pictures, Mama! No cheese, Mama!".

Just after the car wreck, as the airbag powder was still settling in the car I asked you the first time (of many which followed, I assure you), if you were all right, and if you had any "owies". This continued until the paramedics came and I felt confident (my confidence bolstered by your crawling all over the inside of the car) that you were uninjured. About 10 minutes later, while waiting a bloody long time for the police to show up, out of the blue, and while not even looking at me you said," I'm ok, Mama. Don't worry." You said it five or six times over the next 30 minutes until your father arrived to pick you up. You became distinctly distraught by the state of the car. "Mom, the car is stuck!" "Make it go! Mom!!"

Isaac: For your birthday, Grandma and Grandpa F gave you new alphabet d.uplo l.egos. You stack up enormous towers, reciting the letters on the sides of each one and reviewing the sound each one makes.

You started speech therapy at the local school last week. At first you were not amused. In fact, the second time, you screamed and kicked as Miss Stacey took you down to the room. But yesterday, excited to rifle through her "treasure box" at the end of your appointment, you jumped down from my arms, grabbed her hand, and never looked back. You are becoming such a big boy:).

So the last few weeks have been rough, but I can only hope the worst is behind us.

You ate more chicken nuggets and fish sticks than usual, but I believe you will survive:).

We will all survive.

(Except maybe the car... the estimate of damages goes up by the week!)

Every month I see you mastering more skills, and learning to help each other.

I am so proud of the great kids you are becoming.

We love you each very, very much.

Love,

Mom

A Woman Of Steel (Ummm... Titanium) And Sequelae

2011-09-09T12:24:00.000-07:00

A big "Get Well Soon!" goes out to my Mom who had a painful and raggedy shoulder (finally!) replaced yesterday morning with a new titanium model. Brand spankin' new.

When my Dad called last night and mentioned that for three hours they hadn't been able to wake her up, I must admit I was more than a little concerned. But luckily, as I hoped, she was just snowed from medications and they wore off eventually. We are, some of you might remember, light weights* when it comes to drugs.

I am pleased to announce she remains among the living.
Very pleased:).
Don't worry Mom, you will be quilting again in no time!

*After retrieval for my #2 IVF I completely stopped breathing and turned blue (per report, you understand... I was too busy NOT BREATHING to have noticed the color change...) in recovery. Yep, woke to two doctors and numerous nurses staring at me. All sorts of drama. Nice of them to resuscitate me and all:). I got exactly NO good drugs for the remainder of my retrievals... and each time I returned for a cycle the staff (and at times my doctor) would make comments, through nervous laughter, about trying to keep me breathing this time:).

*************************

Thanks for all the well wishes regarding the Stupid-Car-Accident-That-Caused-Me-Much-Grief:)

Matt and I have both been frequenting physical therapy (the PT mentioned we should be getting a couple's rate...) since he reinjured a bad knee last week (yes, right after the accident) and was on crutches for four days. He is now hobbling around sans crutches, but as you can imagine we are quite a pair.:)

My bruises are just now fading away and I can only hope that a couple more weeks (or months) of physical therapy will do the trick.

FINALLY got the estimate for the car repairs (on the 9th day after the wreck!). Car not totaled, which is good since after looking around for a week, I still don't know what car I would choose if I had to buy one immediately:).

Parker seems unfazed except that every once in a while, when in the car, he asks Matt or I not to "break the car again."

We'll do our best, son:)

Wrecked

2011-09-02T10:16:00.000-07:00

Here it is in a nutshell...

I was in a car accident late Monday afternoon.

Airbags deployed

Parker was in the car with me and has no injuries besides a red mark from his car seat straps.

I, on the other hand, am black and blue.

Airbag burns, if you haven't been "lucky" enough to experience them yourself, are extremely painful.

Trust me.

In addition, my neck, back, and right shoulder/arm have been screaming at me since.

The wreck was the other person's fault. *ARGH!!!!*

The paramedics and fire department arrived immediately.

But it was exactly 1 hour and 5 minutes before the police showed up.

It was 108' at the time.

Car undriveable, hoping it isn't totaled, but will find out today.

For now, I am sporting a rental.

This happened exactly eight hours before a stomach bug that had been making it's way through the family finally found a home in my gut. Just in case you are considering this for yourself... the combination of car accident injuries, having to run to the bathroom every few minutes, and an inability to keep pain medication down while attempting to care for triplets is NOT something I would recommend.

The accident also happened twelve hours before Matt had to get on a plane to make an argument in federal court-- he was gone for two days.

*don't worry, I was lucky to have someone come to help me all day on Tuesday!

I am happy to report that the GI bug seems to have moved on to other unsuspecting victims, and my injuries are starting to improve (thank you, physical therapy!)-- I am now becoming more brown-and-blue than black-and-blue:)

Let's just say I would be perfectly pleased to completely forget the last five days:).

Completely.

Courage

2011-08-26T10:25:00.000-07:00

As the kids have grown, I have found more and more activities that I can take them to... solo. One of those was library story time. It has only been four months or so that I have been brave enough to take them by myself. And out of the six or so times, they have done extremely well.

And yet, although I am finding much success in our "just the four of us" endeavors, it is still difficult at times to take the kids out in public. I simply don't have enough arms if things go South. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does...

On Tuesday I took the kids to library story time. While waiting in line to go into the room, the kids found a few T.homas the Train books which they then brought in with us. But even before the librarian officially began, Parker started wandering around and didn't want to sit by us. Being three, sometimes they just need a little space, so deciding it wasn't a hill I was willing to die on, I just kept him in sight.

Until he walked out the door.

I went out to get him back and returned to find Isaac and Emery fighting over the books. A few more tense minutes passed (we are now only about 5 minutes into the program) as I attempted to help them resolve the issue... but failed. Emery was now in a full-blown tantrum and that is when I realized Parker had wandered out the door... again. So half-dragging, half-pulling Emery out the door, I pursued Parker who was now headed down the hall. Only to find once I got out the door that Isaac hadn't followed me and was still sitting in story time. Gah! Eventually we all made it out the door (but not without the eyes of all 100 parents, kids and librarians staring at me) and down the hall to the main children's section of the library. In a feeble attempt to prevent further blow-ups over the fact we had TWO T.homas books instead of THREE, I headed over with them to pick up one more.

I then discovered the boys had peeled off and were at the elevator. Which would have been fine except for the fact that Emery stayed back, now convinced that she wanted a K.ipper book instead. I could barely see the boys' heads, but I could see that they had pushed the elevator button. Not, in case you were wondering, a happy thing since I was on the other side of the cavernous room. In a not-exactly-librarian-approved tone and decibel level, I sternly informed Emery that she could take K.ipper AND T.homas... in fact, she had better take T.homas since she had just thrown a tantrum over the book which meant we had to leave story time. And to HURRY since the boys were headed down the elevator.

I was right in front of the librarian's desk and I could feel her eyes on me.

All while I stayed suspended between watching the boys at the elevator and praying it didn't arrive before I got there (because without question they would have gotten on...), and desperately trying to get Emery to comply.

Luckily, the elevator opened just as Emery and I approached. And by the time we got the books checked out and everyone strapped into the car, I was frustrated, overwhelmed, embarrassed (by how frazzled I got), and determined to wait until they are five years old to take them out in public again!*stomps foot*

After 30 minutes of feeling sorry for myself and beating myself up, I finally resolved to let it go and just meet the next day with a new attitude and resolve to do better.
There was nothing else I could do.

And then yesterday I (literally) stumbled upon this quote by Mary Anne Radmacher

courage does not always roar.

sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,

"i will try again tomorrow"

I did try again. And you know what? Yesterday was a really great day.
May you each give yourselves credit for "trying again tomorrow":)

Month Thirty-Six

2011-08-19T12:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

Wow! You are three years old! I apologize that this letter is over a week late, but we were all having such a great time visiting Grandma and Grandpa that I never took the time to get this posted. Details of the trip will follow.

The three of you are great travelers! Eight flights in the last five months have given you plenty of practice. This last set of flights was our first since potty training... which meant we all saw more than we would have liked to of airport bathrooms:). But you follow us closely through the crowds, dutifully remove and replace your shoes in security and behave amazingly well while strapped in one spot for a few hours at a time. Well done!

Emery: Recently you have started calling me "Little Mama". Not sure where that came from, but you often use it either while trying to tell me what to do, or if I say "Ow!". In that case I keep hearing, "Are you ok, little Mama? Did you get an owie? Ahhhhhh, Little Mama, it's ok."

Although you love all of your things to be pink (including plates and silverware), you are also very into cars, trucks and trains. You have a fairy castle which you love... to run hot wheel cars through. We happened to be at the store on your birthday and I let each of you pick out a fun new pillow. There were many to choose from; pink flowers, green turtles, white sheep, brown puppies, a purple something-or-other, etc. To my surprise, you chose T.homas the Train and have slept with it right next to you (or at least with it next to Wissy) every night since.

You know all of your letters and their sounds, and we sometimes get delayed because you feel the need to spell a word you are seeing... or several. (Really. Two days ago you insisted on noting ALL of the letters on the sticker inside our car door. After two minutes when you were only 25% through and the boys were roasting in their car seats, I managed to convince you otherwise...).

Parker: You are a very happy boy, quick to giggle, and spending most of each day running around with a smile on your face. You have started asking "Why?" (which, of course, means I am in deep trouble... let the WHY? games begin!).

We discovered that you are a big fan of monkey bars at the playground by Grandma and Grandpa's house. "Don't do that! Bad choice, Mom!" You are our most adventurous eater. And if either your father or I take a bite of something, you are nearly always willing to give it a shot. To my surprise, you love a little medium salsa on your quesadillas.

Anything that can be stuffed into your pockets is a current favorite. Granola bars, bouncy balls, Emery's mini-clips, cars, etc. You are very sensitive, and when your feelings are hurt, you drop your face into your hands... it makes me sad every single time. You love to play with older children, especially cousins, and are extremely social and friendly.

Isaac: 95% of every day you are truly wonderful: cooperative, happy, smiling, with a particular love for tickling and being tickled (the other <5% of the time you are being a regular tantruming 3-year-old!) You still hoard massive amounts of toys in your crib and I find myself unloading half of them at night. You possess huge amounts of energy and at times you literally bounce around the house (and off the walls. Yesterday you purposefully bounced between the walls in the hallway... quite forcefully, I might add... and seemed to think it was the funniest thing EVER!)

Your favorite part of going potty seems to be washing your hands. "Scrub, scrub, scrub!", you say while giggling at the water. You have become a VERY picky eater in the last month. Considering you used to try everything I put in front of you, I figured this time would eventually arrive. No berries (except in our spinach smoothie)-- not even in pancakes, no apples, nothing green at all (except when I hide it in a smoothie), no egg salad... nothing new. Period. So some meals you have ended up just eating exceedingly large portions of mashed potatoes or brown rice with cheese:). Can't wait to see what the next month will bring!

You often want only Mama to help you with things (i.e., changing clothes) and prefer to hold my hand when we walk in and out of stores. You enjoy story time and your favorite songs are "Walking, Walking" and "Driving In My Car". M.ickey Mouse Clubhouse is your current favorite show.

"Everyone" told me that things would get much easier for me when you turned two. They were wrong. It didn't happen for me last year. But over the last few months, you have become so much fun! You play and interact with other kids, follow directions, participate in songs and stories, entertain yourselves (sometimes). The occasional tantrum aside (and completely understandable when one MUST have a blue fork... NOT a yellow fork although all of the blue forks are dirty and it takes your mother an.entire.minute to clean on for your use. Completely understandable....) you are really, really good kids. We are having a lot of fun together! You even do really well at restaurants!

Yep, I feel like we have finally turned the corner:).
Life is still crazy sometimes and I feel like a juggler while multitasking on a constant basis. But you are funny, entertaining, helpful and sincere. I couldn't ask for more.

Your father and I have loved to watch you grow. I will be taking you back to the NICU next week. And despite all we have been through (or maybe because of it...), the last three years have flown by.

I look forward to this fourth year of your life.
Watching you discover more of the world around you.
Watching your vocabularies as well as your ability to express yourself grow.
Watching you navigate friendships and social situations.
I am frequently amazed and proud as I watch you develop into funny and endearing preschoolers.

I love you each very, very much:)

Love,
Mom

If I Felt Like Blogging...

2011-07-26T10:01:00.000-07:00

I have been blogging for over five years now. Pre-knockup I had an anonymous infertility blog where I spilled my anxieties, stresses and complaints while becoming part of a fabulous infertility community. And then once I got pregnant, I started a blog to keep friends (IRL and Internet-y) and family posted on the strange twists and turns that was my too-short gestation, stressful NICU stay and head-spinning first few years.

There are times when I have so much to say that I simply can't type fast enough. Times when drafts build up in my "Edit Posts" list because there aren't enough days to post them all immediately after writing. Many of those posts have become an invaluable record of the last three+ years.

And then there are days when writing in my blog becomes more of a chore. An entry on my To-Do list which I loathe to check off. And in the past I would have forced myself to write something. But no longer. Several months ago I decided that blogging is something I will do when I feel like it. Only when I feel like it. And lately, I have been experiencing a dearth of post-writing motivation.

Having a few hours to myself this morning, I found myself thinking about whether or not I wanted to blog. And I came up with a few things I would tell you, but didn't want to put into separate posts.

So if I felt like blogging...

*I would tell you how cute it is that Parker has become a fan of the T.our de France, which he refers to usually as "Mommy's Bicycles"... except for the days that he insists they are "Parker's Bicycles!!!" In fact, it is a good thing that I saved the last day of the Tour on DVR because he teared up when I told him that "Mommy's Bicycles" were all gone. (While on bed rest three years ago, I found the four hours of Tour coverage per day for THREE WEEKS to be my saving grace. I am now hooked, and look forward to my "Tour fix" every year!)

*I would tell you that the kids have seemingly sprouted long, lanky legs overnight. Emmie tells me I'm a "Silly Mommy" at least a few times a day, and Isaac is talking up such a storm nowadays that on his evaluation last week was found to no longer have a language delay. I would also tell you that I have found using cookie cutters on their sandwiches increases their intake by about 50%. Cows and "piggies" are the current faves. And any scraps left over from the shapes I present to them as "bees" or "snakes". Working like a charm.:)

*I could also tell you that three years ago today I was admitted to the hospital... the day before my baby shower. There are many emotions attached to this milestone... excitement, fear, gratitude, and anxiety. As I happened to drive by the hospital while on the other side of town this morning I couldn't help but recall how I felt as my sister took one last picture of me before we walked in. How uncertain everything seemed. I was grossly preeclamptic and only 26 weeks along. And now look where we are...:)

*If I was blogging I would tell you how excited I am to go hang out with my bestie who is out of state at a specialized cancer institute recovering from a second cancer-removing (and one can only hope... cancer-curing) surgery in four weeks. Let's just say there will be much laughter, watching of H.airspray, and eating of popcorn with milk duds (fabulous, fabulous combination which cures all sorts of ills, as she once taught me...)

That's what I would say... If I felt like blogging:).
Hope you are all having a good week!

Since My Mother Is Out Of The Country I Am Signing My Own Excused Absence

2011-07-21T10:03:00.000-07:00

I will come back.
Really.

Just busy taking care of, and entertaining the kids.
And attempting to absorb the onslaught of questions and requests being hurled by three energetic and curious almost-three-year-olds.

And I have been preoccupied with things non-internet-y.
A best friend's diagnosis of rare cancer will do that to a person.
But a touch of good news on that front yesterday makes me grateful for small blessings.

Very.
Very.
Grateful.

I'll be back, I promise.
And one of these days I will actually catch up on your blogs...

Month Thirty-Five

2011-07-13T14:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

(Ugh, don't have the right computer with me to fix this picture, so I'm going with it for now...) Potty training is going well. We took a bit of a step back after spending a week at the beach/pool since you were in swim diapers much of the time. But I have no doubt that once we are solidly back in our routine this week, you will continue to make progress.

You are all fans of preschool. You jump out of the car when we get to the school, sometimes not even bothering to say "Good-bye". And when I pick you up, you talk excitedly about what you did; coloring, singing, playing with friends, learning letters, playing outside.

Emery: Not yet even three years old, and you broke out this week with, "You can't tell me what to do!" (Ummmm, just for the record... yes, I can). Yep, we're in trouble:)

When I am disciplining the boys (or more accurately warning them of the consequences if they continue in a behavior), you find it important to repeat me. Everything I say. Repeatedly. And often with more gusto than the situation would warrant. And you will sometimes add your own flair, i.e., counting them for time out or telling them to go to their cribs. Your brothers are not amused:).

Frequently when I remind you of something (like that you need your shoes on, or to get Wissy before going down for nap, etc), you put up your pointer finger in front of your face and say, "Oh, yes, yes, yes" while quickly nodding your head as you run to find whatever you are missing. You love the pool but aren't a big fan of the beach. You like the sand all right, in particular drawing in the sand with sticks, but you avoid the waves whenever possible. You also like to track sand all over our blankets and throw sand on my books...

Parker: The questions have commenced! Several times a day you ask me what I am doing. And when I respond you then either tell me "Ooooo, good choice, Mama!" or "Very good, Mama!" The positive feedback is much appreciated:). A few times in the last week you looked straight at me and asked, "Where is Mama?" And in my mind I was thinking, "Ummmm... unless I remember this differently, I carried you, bore you, changed your diapers, entertained, fed, clothed, cleaned, comforted, and consoled you. For three years. Boy, I'm the only Mama you've got!". But instead I said "I'm right here, Parker." To which you then promptly replied each time, "Where's Daddy?" and walked away:)

You have a fake laugh that is really funny. Anything can get you started. But you continue on with a forced, obviously fake belly laugh with your mouth wide open. You love to point out letters and numbers when we are in the car or in the store. Yesterday while we waited at the deli counter you recited the letters of the word "F-R-E-S-H".

Baseball is your new love. While on vacation you borrowed the hat and glove of an older cousin. After the second day your father and I went out to buy you your own gear. A hat that fits. A glove for your right hand (since you seem to prefer to throw with your left), and several soft baseballs. Let the games begin!

Isaac: My, you were a fan of your first fireworks! You sat there giggling and squealing every time a new round exploded into color. You have asked several times since whether we can have "fireworks tonight!". Looks like it will be a long year:). You love the beach and the pool. You love to run in the waves and build sand castles with your father. But never fail, whether pool or ocean, you stop to take a long break and stretch out on a towel in the shade with your mother:).

You LOVE s'mores. Really love them. Heart them in a way that I can't explain. The face says it all:).

You are calm and mellow most of the time. There are notable exceptions, I assure you (not the least of which is when you run in the B.ig W.heel Biker Gang, screaming up and down the hallways of the house...), but on the whole you are a happy boy. Occasionally, though, you throw a tantrum. And when you throw one... you throw a big one! But just in the last two weeks you have turned a corner. Usually as you are ramping up to a The-World-Is-Ending tantrum, I give you a choice whether you want to go to your crib or stop screaming. And up until this last week, my warnings and choices have gone unheeded. But you have, several times in a row now, actually paid attention to me and chosen to stop screaming instead of go to your crib. Progress!

This is where it really gets interesting.
You all clearly have opinions.
And are becoming more and more adamant about expressing them:).
Sometimes it is about what you eat.
Sometimes about what you wear.
Sometimes about what our next activity will be.

Communication is a wonderful thing and with your expanded vocabularies, things run more smoothly in a house with triplets. You may not always get what you want... but at least I am now VERY CLEAR what it is you are wanting:). One thing I have learned is to never, ever ask you all as a group what you want to eat for lunch... I nearly always get three different answers!

But I am enjoying the opportunities to learn more about your personalities; your likes and your dislikes.
It is exciting to watch each of you develop from toddlers into preschoolers.
Preschoolers that I love very, very much.

Love,
Mom

40 Is The New 30... Or At Least 29

2011-07-06T20:51:00.000-07:00

My Mom was "29" for many, many of my childhood years.
Quite a feat considering that she officially turned 29-years old the year I was born.
But then many years of her 29th birthday followed in succession:).

I turned 40 years old last week.
And I have failed to post not because of an angst-ridden mid-life crisis. No, I've just been excessively busy: taking care of three rambunctious kids, attempting to beat back the clutter bugs that seem to have recently infiltrated our home, and preparing for our trip to C.alifornia (where I am writing this post while watching the kids play in the pool). Oh yes, and then I have been very concerned about a close friend who received life-changing news last week. My energies have been directed elsewhere.

I simply don't have time for a mid-life crisis:).

40 isn't so bad.
Yes, my joints creak, I have little wrinkles around my eyes, and losing those last five pounds is like climbing Mt. E.verest.
But overall, I am satisfied.
My blood pressure has been positively GORGEOUS, thanks to my commitment to eating very low sodium (something I took a hiatus from on my birthday... gourmet mac&cheese, sushi, eggs with ham and hashbrowns!), the rest of my health is good, I have three great kids and a fabulous husband.

Forty really isn't so bad, all things be told.
In fact, I am hoping for another forty more!

Preschool

2011-06-23T18:37:00.000-07:00

The kids started preschool this last Monday. They are going to preschool two mornings a week for the rest of the summer at the same school where they will be attending three days a week this fall.

Their first day of school was their 16th day of potty training.
And needless to say, I was concerned.

I mean, the teachers are well-versed in taking care of three-year-olds and one of them told me that they ask them frequently if they need to use the potty. But see, my kids will often say "No". So instead of asking them, I tell them it is "Potty Time" and we all go sit on the potties. And sometimes they use the potty just because they need to go. As a result we rarely have accidents at home. But I knew they wouldn't want to stop what they were doing at preschool to go into the bathroom.

So I fully expected that between the triplets, we would have multiple accidents during the first week.

We have a friend who's son was expelled from this preschool because he was not sufficiently potty trained. Matt and I paid the summer tuition fully aware that one or more may be "expelled" and would stay home with me for a few weeks to work on potty training before finishing out the summer.

In fact, I think Matt was hoping one of them would be expelled.
It would make for a good story, he said:).

Anyway, after the first two days of preschool I can report... exactly NONE of the kids have been expelled (sorry, Matt!). In fact, and more impressively, they have had exactly NO accidents at school.
*I am not counting a few damp pair of underwear when we got home.

Oh, don't worry... I am still expecting the accidents and they will still continue to carry a change of shorts and underwear in their bags every day. But Wow! I am impressed:).

They love their teachers. They come home excited about the pictures they colored and letters they are learning. They have told me several times that they LOVE preschool. Their teachers said the kids are great, and were very surprised when Isaac threw a fit while getting into the car on Wednesday (there is a car line)... he didn't want to sit in the middle car seat (NONE of them want that seat, it is a constant argument in our house... or car) because they hadn't seen him even get upset before.

So overall, I have proclaimed their first week of preschool to be a rousing success!

A First

2011-06-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

So three things occurred this last Sunday that made me reflect on our last three years.

First of all, it was Father's Day. Yay, Matt!!! Our kids hit the Father jackpot:).

Secondly, I had to finish up a detailed record of every medical appointment, treatment, medication and procedure any of us had in the last five years because Matt's employer is looking to change their medical insurance carrier. I mean... really? Do have any idea how long that took me???! I actually started last Friday and I am sure glad I did, because I had to add a FOUR PAGE SUPPLEMENT. And as I detailed the multitude of specialists to whom I schlepped three very premature, very GERD/projectile vomity children on a bi- or tri-weekly basis for the first six months, I couldn't help but reflect on how far we have come. So very far!

And then, just minutes before their nap on Sunday, Isaac jumped off the couch and, missing the bean bag which was his intended target, fell directly onto his knee on the stone floor. Ouch! He put partial weight on it once or twice, but after that wanted to be carried. There was no significant swelling, and as long as he wasn't trying to walk on it he didn't seem to be in pain, so we put him down for nap as usual. A few hours later we got the kids up in order to make it to church. Isaac still didn't want to put weight on his leg... AT ALL... and instead would stand on his left leg and cry to be picked up. Out of character, to say the least. So although it didn't look real swollen, Matt took the other two kids to church (he had a lesson to teach) while I headed over to the Pediatric ER at the local hospital with Isaac. I didn't really think it was broken, but as preschool started the next morning (more on that in the next few days), I needed reassurance that it was ok for him to walk on his leg.

He was a model patient. Especially after I turned C.ars on for him on my phone:).
And while sitting on the gurney with him, waiting for his knee to be x-rayed, I realized this was our FIRST ER/Urgent Care visit.
With any of the kids.

They are precariously close to turning three-years-old and my very premature kids have never been to an ER/Urgent Care. Only Isaac has even needed antibiotics since leaving the NICU. And he had them only twice. A UTI and Strep throat. I discovered while going through the medical records that my kid with BPD hasn't even needed antibiotics for his lungs!

As we left the NICU 2 1/2 years ago I expected we would be frequent visitors to the local ER and Urgent Care, especially considering Isaac's BPD. I dreaded the anticipated runs to urgent care at 2:00 am with a sick and feverish child, and especially dreaded the anxiety that such conditions would generate. Don't get me wrong, the kids have been sick. But "normal" sick, the kind that rarely requires a visit to the doctor (although it may be true that my medical background might make it easier for me to tell the difference).

There are, I'm sure, multiple reasons that the kids have been so healthy. But no matter what, I expect our run of good health will shortly be coming to an abrupt halt... for the triplets have started preschool:)

Let the volley of colds and GI bugs commence:)

As an aside, Isaac's let was not broken! Just a bad sprain/patellar bruise. So elevation, ice and motrin has been the name of the game. He was limping, but was able to start preschool as scheduled (which trilled him, by the way...). Hopefully Isaac will think twice about jumping off the couch anytime soon:)

I know, I know... but one can always hope:)

A Beautiful Shade Of Blue

2011-06-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, the kids were coloring in the playroom while I finished getting their dinner "plated" (Yes, I am a food network junkie...). Emery started into the "I Have To Poop" dance so I helped her sit on the potty next to me in the kitchen. Distraught to be missing out on all the coloring fun, she didn't want to stay. So I brought her a crayon and paper which pleased her greatly and she started coloring only feet away from where I was preparing dinner.

I spent the next several minutes getting both boys into their seats, bibs on, cheddar mixed into their chili, fruit on their plate, water in front of them, and spoons in their hands. At that point I turned to focus on Emery again... to find that she was bent clear over while still sitting in her chair, coloring in the grout on my stone floor as far as she could reach... with blue crayon.

All of it.

On three sides (I obviously wish I took a picture before I started cleaning up, but I had to settle with one "arm" of her masterpiece )

I had a moment of being annoyed, and then realized, with much relief, that their crayons are "Washable". In fact, I ONLY buy washable crayons and paints for them to use so that if when they color on non-coloring paper objects, at least it takes very little effort to remove:). Considering my SIL had told me just earlier that day about her niece who colored in their entire kitchen grout with s,harpie marker while the mother showered... I considered myself VERY lucky:).

Actually, Emery did me a favor (although a favor I hope she doesn't repeat). As I got down on my hands and knees to scrub off the crayon (which came off like a dream... YAY! for washables!!!), I realized how much other grime was coming off. So it won't surprise anyone who knows me well when I tell you that I just kept scrubbing. For it had been an embarrassingly long time since that grout had been scrubbed by hand!

And I found something very satisfying in scrubbing piece after piece of grout, and finding the original color reappear.
I saw results immediately.
Extremely satisfying.
I'm weird that way.

So as Matt got home I sent the kids with him while I worked on the rest of the kitchen floor.
My arm is sore this morning. But my grout is clean:)

Perspective

2011-06-15T11:46:00.000-07:00

I worked for a few hours early this morning.

Now as a reminder, I work for a radiation oncology company. We do radiation treatments for people with cancer. Which means the overwhelming majority of our patients have at least four or five decades behind them. Occasionally we have younger people in the waiting room who are accompanying their family members to treatments. Very rarely we have a baby in the waiting room brought in by someone who had no other options.

At about 8:30 this morning, I heard a baby start to cry. As this wailing continued, tortured at times, I started wondering why someone didn't take the baby out of the office. I mean, having three young'uns at once, I understand that at times it can take a few minutes to get situated and get a little one settled down... but this was going on and on. I reminded myself, the adults with the child must be dealing with cancer, and must be overwhelmed if they had to bring her with them. So I tried to be understanding. And yet I was attempting to read, and at times I became annoyed. Why won't someone attend to that child????!!!

Twenty minutes later the screaming continued, and as I left the office for home, I passed a small posse exiting an exam room. A man carried a child and a nurse was trailing behind while holding an IV bag. A gorgeous, chunky, curly-headed child of about 18 months, belting out a tortured, questioning cry.
The child wasn't accompanying a patient... she WAS the patient.

And as we turned in opposite directions, the millisecond-long glance I shared with the father spoke volumes. He had the blank, pained stare of a parent with a very sick child. A look I became very familiar with in the NICU. A look that I believe I had on my face for nigh on three months. I have had a child who is deathly ill. I know what it is like to hold your child while painful procedures are performed... because you know it may be what saves them. And I know what it is like to attempt to be stoic, strong for your child when in actuality, their cries of betrayal cut deeply.
But I can only imagine what it is like to do so with a toddler.

I had trouble catching my breath, heading out the back door as tears welled in the corners of my eyes.
For they are living my (as well as every parent's...) worst nightmare.
May the Lord bless them all.

Second Week of Potty Training

2011-06-14T07:07:00.000-07:00

*Sigh*
I wish I could say that we were all done with potty training.
I wish I could say not a single of them ever have accidents and each of them tell me before they need to use the potty.

But I can't.

We are getting there.
We have our good days and our bad days.
Fewer accidents than last week at this time, that is for sure.
But mostly I think that is because now we are using the timer so that they have to sit on the toilet frequently.

Two of the kids (I am avoiding telling you which one ISN'T just in case someone finds this post when the triplets are in middle school...) are doing very well. They usually just go get on the potty chair without me having to remind them. When they have to pee, they just use the potty chair and tell me afterwards.

Usually.

Which I will take.
'Cuz if you haven't guessed... potty training triplets is a big fat meal of frustration wrapped in chaos smothered in a rich When-The-Hell-Will-This-Be-Over Sauce.

Ahem.
Let's just say I am exhausted (nay, tapped out) from keeping my frustration in check (Ummmmm... the vast majority of the time). It is no easy feat to keep from getting angry when they pee on the floor five minutes after getting up from the potty chair... a potty chair they failed to pee in.
Especially when they do so in triplicate.

One of the boys has figured out that the more times he pees in the potty, the more treats he gets. Which means he will, at times, pee a few tablespoons and then five minutes later, after we empty the potty and get him his treat and sticker.... run back to the potty chair to pee another few tablespoons. Although annoyingly time consuming, I'm not complaining. Just think of the control he is developing:). When they pee in the potty, they get one "treat" (M&M). Poops which make it to the potty get two treats. This same child, by the way, informs me each time that he pees that he gets TWO treats, and will insist so for a few minutes. Somehow he seems to think I will forget at some point and give him two. Which, considering my state of mind at this point, may very well happen at some point...

Overall, at the end of this first week of potty training, I would have to say our status falls solidly into the "Doing all right" category. With only one week left before preschool starts, we have a lot of work (and prayer, don't forget the prayer!!!) ahead of us.

Month Thirty-Four

2011-06-12T11:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

This month flew by because there were really just two events; our Georgia/family reunion combo trip and potty training. Ahhhh... potty training. I can't get over how cute your tushes look in big-kid underwear. I find myself pinching them all the time... a habit of which the three of you are not too fond:).

Emery: You have a bit of sass, my dear. Not that I would have any idea where you would have gotten that from:). You like to tell us what to do and then react in shock when we choose not to follow your demands. Your new favorite command this week has been "You get it for me!". Ummmmm... No. I politely decline.

While in an airport on our trip, you came into a bathroom stall with me. I excitedly reminded you that the next week you would also be able to go in the potty instead of in your diaper. You cocked your head to the side and scrunched up your nose and said "Ummmmm. No, I don't think so." Luckily we managed to persuade you differently and you have been a star potty trainer.

Lately you have a preoccupation with babies. Occasionally you want to be held and rocked and insist I sing the "Baby Emmie" song to you. But more curiously, you have, in the last few days, started adding the word "baby" onto many things you say to the boys. "Ok, baby", "Here is your water, baby", or "Baby, where is your car?" I can't imagine the boys will appreciate that for very long...

Parker: This month you have found a new way to express your displeasure when kept from doing what you want (i.e., using a cup instead of a sippy, holding my camera, staying up instead of going to bed, etc). You stomp your foot and say "No, Mama!" or "No, Daddy! That is a bad choice!"

Bear is still your constant companion and partner in crime. Bear takes naps on the couch but, according to you, MUST be covered by the throw blanket. He fits perfectly into the seat of your B.ig Wheel as you ride up and down the halls. Yesterday you informed me that Bear also likes to pee in the potty. Good job, Bear!

While at our family reunion last month you were enthralled with some mini-billiard balls. I was snapping pictures, and asked you to smile for me. Instead, you threw the ball directly at me and I heard a sickening crack. Shattered! Luckily it only broke my UV lens filter (the main reason I use a filter... protection!!) and not my cherished lens:). With such great aim, we may have to put you in little league next year!

Isaac: You are really great at doing puzzles (especially the number and letter puzzles on our iphones), and have developed a sudden love of salmon. I usually mix the salmon I make into your absolute favorite-- rice, because then I imagine you will, even accidentally, get some salmon down. But twice this last week you actually shunned the rice for "More fish, Mama!".

You have an infectious giggle and I can't help but laugh when you get going. I made up a "sticker game" to help you stay on the potty the other day, and you got giggling so hard... which made me laugh so hard... that we both ended up rolling on the floor:). I get constant compliments on your eyelashes. I wish that I could take credit. But you got your long, gorgeous eyelashes from your father:).

On one of our flights back from the East coast, you sat next to me in a center set while I was on the aisle. A young man (maybe 30 years old) had the window seat. You were VERY well behaved, and as we landed and taxied to our gate, you played with your cars on the arm rest between your seat and the man next to you. Every once in a while, you would gently bump the man and look at him sheepishly. He just smiled at you. As we stood in preparation to get off the plane, you kept pointing at the man's goatee. He laughed and told you that all of the hair from his head (his head was shaved) went down to his chin. You kept getting closer and closer so I asked the man if you could touch his beard. He said "Sure". It appeared you were going to touch his goatee with two fingers and then at the last second switched courses. Throwing your head suddenly forward, you buried your forehead in his beard, rubbing it back and forth while giggling hysterically. Needless to say, we were all surprised:).

Our trips this month went surprisingly (at least for me...) well. And I can only imagine (and hope) it will continue to easier to travel as you get older. Because we have lots of great places that we want to take you!

You are starting preschool next week.
Next week!
It is just two mornings a week, but still.
You will be spending hours away... with other kids. And although I am excited and proud that you have grown into such great little kids, part of me will be very sad when you walk into your classrooms with your bags.

You will have learning experiences separate from me.
You will form relationships with people I don't know well.
You will learn to get along with other kids, follow directions from other adults, and play, laugh and sing.
You will be preschoolers.

And I couldn't be prouder.
I love you very much!
Love,
Mom

Shunning The Salt Lick

2011-06-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

I heart salt.
Really, I do.
I am a salt-hound.
I would eat some salty shoestring fries over a piece of pie any day.
In my family, eating sour cream and onion potato chips with cottage cheese (occasionally, you understand...) is required for membership.
I love chocolate... but I love chocolate most when it is over something salty.

Ok, regular readers have heard me kvetch about my Preeclampsia-Turned-Chronic-Hypertension on and off for the last few years. But a visit to my doctor last week showed exactly NO improvement in my blood pressure since I was placed on a second medication two months ago (something I would have known if I had been taking my blood pressure regularly. Which I wasn't. Because I was busy on VACATION eating fattening southern food...). My doctor sighed, confirmed with me that I was eating a "low sodium" diet (Ummmm... "Sure", I said. I mean, low-sodium broth and low-sodium beans count, right?), ordered some more blood work, and then, looking resigned, she added on a THIRD anti-hypertensive in an attempt to wrangle my pressure into something resembling "normal".

Yes, I am aware that I ~~was~~ am a doctor.
And yes, I am aware that it is common knowledge that people with hypertension should be on low-sodium diets. That is, because the majority of those with hypertension are also salt-sensitive. But for some reason I thought this didn't apply to me. I suppose because Dr. Perinatologist's words kept ringing in my ears: "DO NOT restrict your salt, it won't help your preeclampsia at all".

Honestly, I thought maybe I was eating a touch more sodium than I should... but I truly had no idea how much I was ingesting. "They" say the average American eats at least 2-3 (some studies show more like 10) times more sodium a day than is recommended. But I figured I ate better than the "average" American. I cooked the vast majority of what we ate, including lots of fruits and veggies, watched my fat and sugar intake, etc. I didn't think I ate a whole lot of processed foods (if you don't include my favorite special indulgences...), and only ate out a few times a week. So I assumed that I must be doing pretty well on my sodium, right?

I mean, right?

But it occurred to me as I left my appointment with prescription in hand, that I had NO CLUE whether or not I was eating a low-sodium diet. I knew the future wasn't looking good as I am just getting ready to turn 40 years old and already on three blood pressure medications. So I started the third medication... and then started thinking (and researching online... two hours sitting at the DMV will do that to a person...). For 24 hours I kept track of every thing I ate and was SHOCKED by the results. So by the time I took my second dose of the additional medication, I had made a decision. It was low-sodium diet (DASH) for me. If shunning my favorite foods (at least 90% of the time... or finding low-sodium versions) would keep me off the third medication and buy me a decade or two of life, I would do it.

I have to do it.
I have three two-year-olds.

It was worth a shot. So when the next morning after slashing my sodium, my blood pressure was LOW (I mean, it has been since... ummmm... NEVER that my systolic has been hanging at 100) and I was frequently having to hold onto something because I was dizzy, I stopped the newest med and settled into a salt-restricted diet.

It hasn't been easy.
And, I am not too proud to admit, I shed a few tears over it.
I mean come on... severely limiting my T.illamook Cheddar Cheese intake is just cruel:)
And on day 2, when I went out to dinner with my Triplet Moms Group, there was almost nothing I could eat on the menu. Now THAT was depressing.

But as I perused my local supermarket for low-sodium foods, I stumbled upon a gem. Ann the Deli Worker. Her grandmother visits often and is on a sodium-restricted diet. She knew (by heart) the sodium content of EVERYTHING in the deli counter. I scored. Fabulous tasting low-sodium turkey breast (which, btw has less sodium than three others that were marketed as low-sodium) and she also steered me towards the lowest-sodium cheese in the case... nearly 1/3 the sodium of my beloved cheddar.

And suddenly I wasn't so depressed.

It has been a week now, and it has already become easier. I picked up a few low-sodium cookbooks, tried a few new recipes, and picked out several more than I am excited to cook. I have also just in general found an increasing number of food options and discovered ways to significantly decrease the sodium in some of my favorite dishes. By default, I am eating more fruits and veggies because they contain little to no sodium. I eat less sauces, dressings and fat. And I keep track of every (and I do mean E.V.E.R.Y milligram of sodium intake). I have read so many labels in the last week my head is in a constant state of rotation. Having said that, my sugar intake has probably increased... I mean a girl (especially while potty training triplets) just has to have some indulgences:).

Today my blood pressure is averaging 15 points less than it was two weeks ago... which, to be honest, makes me wonder if my machine needs a recalibration:). Could it really be true that my pressure has dropped so much simply with a better diet? I'm going with it, but will most likely go see my doctor soon to confirm with a manual cuff whether or not my home readings are accurate. I consider the fact that I occasionally get lightheaded when I stand up too quickly to be a good sign:).

Only time will tell.
But maybe, just maybe, this is the answer for me. Not that I will be able to throw all my blood pressure medications down the toilet (ummm.... don't do that anyway... not good for the environment...), as it is clear I will need medication the rest of my life. But being on two medications just sounds so much more manageable to me than three.

I wish I could say (as many people often do when they make major shifts towards a healthier diet) that I feel so great and have much more energy than I used to. Of course, as this has been Potty Training Extraordinaire Week at Chez SassyMama I don't think anything could make me feel energetic:)

But I will say that there is something serenely empowering about finally making a commitment to do something difficult... simply because it is the best thing for my body, my life and my family.

Having said that... PLEASE, will someone enjoy a nice big serving of shoestring fries for me????:)

Mastering The John

2011-06-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

It is noon.
And I have cleaned exactly ZERO puddles of urine off the floor so far today.

If you had been at our house over the last four days...

You would understand that by definition, that means today is a VERY, VERY good day.

Yes, we are potty training.
Using the Rip-The-Bandaid-Off Theory, we got rid of diapers (except for bed time) and put "big kid" underwear on the triplets Saturday morning. That is, you may imagine, when the fun began.

Six potty chairs.
Four potty seats.
Several movies and shows.
38 pair of underwear.
A stack of books for them to read while on the throne.
Innumerable wipes and disposable wipes.
Lots of laundry detergent.
And a really good floor cleaner.

It has been painful (and fun to see them proud of their successes... but mostly just painful). At times VERY painful. So painful in fact, that at one point on Sunday I mused out loud about the chances of Super-Expensive-Preschool still having spots available... because they would actually potty train the kids. I mean, $27,000 is a small price to pay in order to avoid the torture of potty training triplets, right? Believe me, there were times my answer would have been a resounding, "Hell, yes!":).

But... we are on day four and FINALLY seeing some success. Two of the kids started catching on by the end of day two (meaning they got as much in the potty chair as on the ground), but one of the boys just didn't have the vision. That is, until this morning, when our straggler peed in the potty chair with a perfect three for three record!

The potty chart is now stacked with stickers.
And our stash of M.&Ms is starting to dwindle (their "treat" for using the potty).

Don't worry, I have no naive delusions that we have finished with potty training. This is no victory dance. I have no visions of taking them to the store or class anytime in the next several days. I would just be happy if they are potty trained well-enough to start morning preschool in two weeks (at their Great-Reputation-But-Not-Nearly-As-Expensive-As-You-Would-Expect Preschool).

Otherwise, I had better start saving my pennies...:)

What I Have Been Doing Since I Clearly Haven't Been Posting Over The Last Few Weeks Part I

2011-06-01T19:58:00.000-07:00

So we have been out of town on a few adventures since I last checked in. My intention was to post while I was gone. But fully swept up in the state of vacation, I read a long book instead:)

I will do this in two parts since the trips, although separated by only 16 hours, were very different. First we spent a week (after two flights which went as smoothly as one could expect with three two-year-olds...) with Matt's parents in Sea Island, Georgia. Really, really fabulous. Perfect for kids this age. We rented bikes with trailers and so would bike the short 1/4 mile to the beach club in the morning where we would play in the sand and collect sea shells for a few hours, then walk the few hundred yards to the pool area (multiple to choose from even for kids...) for an hour or so before heading back to the house on the bikes. A quick bath followed by a quick lunch would signal time for a nap (that is, for everyone involved!). After nap, a bike ride was in order, followed by dinner on the screened-in porch and a bit of S.prout TV before it was off to bed. We took the kids out to casual restaurants a few times which went relatively well. We also had a babysitter for a few nights during which we enjoyed nice dinners with Matt's parents.

After a week in Sea Island, we all headed up the coast a few hours to Kiawah Island, South Carolina where Matt's sister and her family joined us for most of the next week. We had a large house on a remote corner of the island complete with a private dock and swimming pool. Each of the kids got a quick turn in the kayak with their father:).

Ok, so now I need to back up.
Because I need to explain that when we first got to Sea Island, Parker was terrified of the ocean. Let me assure you, this is not his first time at a beach. In fact in April when we visited my parents, he strolled along the water stopping constantly to point at "bubbles" as waves crashed only a few feet away. But for some reason, at the beginning of this trip not only did he want nothing to do with the water (and often with the sand even thirty feet away), but he wanted none of us to get within spitting distance either. He would stand, only as close as he dared, in order to yell at his father, Emery and Isaac to "Come Back!!!" and to "No go in water!!!".

It took the entire week at Sea Island, but he finally started enjoying the waves (mostly because he had a thing for putting sea shells in buckets of water... and where does one find water on the beach but the waves! By the time we were in Kiawah, he was a pro.

Isaac was a fish from the beginning, trying to go out by himself much further than is safe. And then laughing as the waves came up to his chest.

We played with cousins, especially those of the red-headed variety.

And we had a great time just hanging out together.

The only glitch in this Phase I of the SassyMama Vacation Marathon came on the day we were to fly home. We got up hours early, roused the kids up and headed off to the airport an hour away... to find our flight was seriously delayed due to storms in the Mid-West. After three hours of chasing three tired-and-therefore-hopped-up-on-adrenaline two-year-olds around the airport while Matt stood in the Slowest Moving Line Ever, it was clear we had two options: wait another six hours in the airport for a flight and probable connection which would (best case scenario) land us home just shy of 24 hours from when we woke the kids up, or spend another night in Kiawah and fly out the next morning. We chose to wait a day (at that point I had my fill of airports for the day... and of the security guards who, although I could see our luggage, insisted that while I tried to reign in the triplets solo as Matt was getting the car, must be able to TOUCH my luggage at all times. I mean really. I actually asked him if he had ever tried keeping toddler triplets right next to luggage when standing in line for two hours. Argh!!!). So we rented another car, installed the car seats AGAIN, and drove back to Kiawah. My alarm went off at 4:30 in the morning and by 5:30 we were in the car on our way back to the airport. Our connection went smoothly and by late that afternoon we were back home:). The only downside was that instead of arriving home Wednesday afternoon, we arrived home Thursday afternoon. Which meant I had to unpack, do laundry, shop like crazy for two lunches for 20 people, repack both the suitcases and the car in order to leave Friday morning to drive 10 hours to my family reunion. Phew! But that is for the next installment....

Month Thirty-Three

2011-05-13T17:39:00.000-07:00

Gah!
I had this letter nearly completed... and then blogger hit the skids and I couldn't edit or post all day yesterday. And then when it did come up today... all of my revisions had disappeared. Oh yes, and then I am suddenly unable to add pictures (i.e., their triplet pic) because it says "server rejected" (if anyone had the same problem and found a fix, please enlighten me...) I will add it once I work out the bug.

Gah! Indeed.
Unfortunately, time today is short, so it is what it is...
***********************************************

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

A month ago, bedtime was chaotic. There was crying and protesting. And it seemed to take forever. Until I had one of those moments when it occurred to me that things had spun out of control without me realizing it. So we now have a new bedtime routine. We read three books, (You are still fans of Red Truck and Llama Llama as well as Olivia and Jesse Bear), then say prayers (during which time you each insist on saying your own, and make sure each of your siblings have their arms folded and eyes closed before you will start...) Next you each get to choose where you sit (on the rocking chair or on our laps while we rub your back), as well as choose two songs which we sing before you get kisses and go into your crib. Rinse and repeat with the next child. Bedtime now takes about 25 minutes, and you each happily give us each a kiss and climb into your own cribs. The three of you continue to chatter for some time after... but it is exceedingly rare that there is any crying involved. Ahhhhh, success... for now:)

As a result of a few previous incidents (one in particular), we are very careful to wrap the waist of your diapers in duct tape prior to each nap and bed time. To make the experience more enjoyable, your father picked out numerous colors at the store a few weeks ago. You now have a choice between plain-'ol silver, red (the current house fave), leopard print, and H.ello Kitty. When you get upset about having your diaper changed, knowing that nap is not far behind, I distract you with an excitedly-asked "Oooooo! What kind of tape do you want????" which never fails to put a smile on your faces as you seriously consider your options.

Emery: You recently got a D.isney B.arbie doll, as well as two dresses for Easter. For some reason you insist that she wear all three dresses. At once. Which unfortunately simply does not work since none of the outfits consist of a Grandpa sweater:). This has caused much aggravation for you.
You are still a big fan of your "princess shoes". And as you are required to have shoes on when outside (a rule you loathe and frequently "forget", btw...) you often choose your heels to run around the backyard.

You can now take your own sandals on and off... most of the time, which thrills you to no end. And for some reason you have decided that while riding in the car is the PERFECT time to remove your shoes. Having done so, you become dramatically distraught when you are unable to reach far enough to get them on your feet. *sigh*.

Parker: "I do it!" is your new favorite phrase. From putting on clothes and shoes to getting yourself out of the car, I hear "I do myself!" several times a day. And I am happy to facilitate your doing so. Although I get occasionally get frustrated because it takes longer to get ready and out the door (especially when you insist on donning your shirt by putting your head through the arm hole..), but I revel in your perseverance and determination which often results in success (although success was not to be had with the whole head-through-the-arm-hole thing. I'm just sayin...).

For months (years?) I have been asking all of you about colors. We talk about the color of cars we pass on the road, the color of our clothing, etc. You have recently started turning the tables on me. One of your favorite things to do is to ask me "what color is that?" and when I answer correctly, which luckily I do most of the time:), you say "Good job, Mama!" Well thanks, son, glad to hear you think so:)

Isaac: Apparently making up for lost time, you have become a bona fide chatterbox. You have even started making some sounds (M, B) which had previously evaded you. Much of the time you are either telling your siblings what to do, or repeating what I have told them to do. Oh, yes, unless you are pointing out EVERY garage door we pass, and every "red light!!!" you can see.

You love to be upside down. To turn flips and do headstands. As much as possible. Preferably over an over and over and over. You also hoard things in your crib. You simply cannot have enough toys, blankets, flash cards, etc with you for your nap. Occasionally when I check on you at night I clean out 50% of your stash so that you can start all over the next day.

Your letter this month is shorter than normal. And contains less pictures (my poor camera...) but we have been busy! Learning (or attempting to learn) how to pedal bikes and tricycles, being sick (boo!), exploring in the mountains, and spending lots of extra time with "just" Mama while Rosa is out of town are just a few of the things we have been up to. And then there were classes, library story times, walks, parks, trips to the store, reading books while sitting on your potties, and your new interest... T.oy Story:).

We are leaving soon on vacation for a few weeks, but as soon as we return it will be potty training time.
This should be interesting... for all of us:)

I have been thrilled, especially over the last few weeks, to watch you become more preschooler than toddler. To watch you follow (more) directions, have funny conversations between yourselves, and entertain each other. It only makes us more excited to see what this next month will bring.

We love you each very, very much.

Love,
Mom

Luckiest Woman In The World

2011-05-09T14:15:00.000-07:00

Matt got up early and made pancakes and eggs (with sausage, red peppers, cheese and mushrooms... yum!) and then I got back in bed so that I would be "asleep" when the kids brought in breakfast to me. They each carried in part of the meal and then "woke me up" by yelling "Happy Mother's Day!":).

They all gave me a really fabuloso Mother's Day gift... a new Nikon D90! As I mentioned a few days ago, my camera is on the fritz. And now I have a shiny new toy:).

Matt made a video for me. A video! Which we watched while cuddling with the kids in our bed. I had tears streaming down my face from the get-go. He put in pictures as well as snippets of video scattered throughout of the kids saying "I love you, Mama", "Good job, Mama!" or "Happy Mother's Day, Mama!" The soundtrack was the song It Won't Be Like This For Long by D.arius Rucker (which surprised me since he is no country music fan!) Like I said, I cried from the beginning. Not just because I was touched by the video he made, but also because I knew the song was right.

This time period is very hard and sometimes it seems like I will be dealing with whining 2-year-olds for the REST OF MY LIFE. And I get overwhelmed. And frustrated. And very discouraged. But the fact is that they will be starting part-time preschool this Fall and I will be very, very sad on their first day away.

Anyway, we had a great day together.
I have a great husband and three really fabulous kids for whom we waited, worked and pined.
I am the luckiest woman in the world:)

Shutterbug Sadness

2011-05-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

My camera has issues.
My beautiful camera which I have cherished for the last four years suddenly started giving me grief.

Due to the "issues" I haven't been taking many pictures lately. I mean... if you had to crank the ISO up and the image you think you are taking through the viewfinder gets shifted up a few feet... you would find it frustrating too! I have cut my children off at the knee in many a photo this month:).

The issues are strange enough that the local repairman at a professional camera store can't figure out what the problem is. Which means it needs to be sent into the factory. Which means I will be without it for nigh on five weeks or so.

Ack!

Which, I am not too proud to admit, made me worried and a bit anxious at first.

I mean, isn't it a prerequisite for good motherhood that one takes dozens of pictures of their offspring every week to document their funny moments, broad smiles, and their general fabulousness? Then it should follow that by not doing so for even short amounts of time would, following my logic, be another way I am "failing" my children?

Gah!
Where do I come up with this crap?:).

And then in a brief yet fortuitous moment of clarity I realized... my children's lives are already much better documented (digital camera, phone camera, phone video, HD video) than my childhood was and I survived (mostly) intact. Having less than 100 pictures of my kids this month (I keep about 20% of the pictures I take... which means I take about 500 a month!) will neither result in a referral to Child Protective Services, nor, I would imagine, give them reason to consult a psychologist in their adulthood (I'm sure they will have a plethora of much better reasons to do that...)

Not sure if I will have it fixed or just splurge for a new camera.
But as we are headed on vacation very soon... a decision is in order.
Until then, I will be attempting to avoid cutting their legs off, while managing not to overcompensate and thus cutting their heads off:)
Ahhhhh, what a fine line we tread...

On My Mind

2011-05-04T17:57:00.000-07:00

At one of the offices where I work (as a refresher I work 8-12 hours a week at a Radiation Oncology company that has four offices in town) there was a receptionist who I will call Sara. She was friendly, always remembered to ask about the kids, and had a smile for me every time I came through the door. We would occasionally have long conversations about travel. She was 26 years old and had the world ahead of her.

Then about six months ago she went to the doctor because she was feeling tired. 24 hours later she was in the hospital starting chemo for an aggressive form of leukemia. Unresponsive to the first round, she underwent a second protocol that was unproven but was her only hope. Unfortunately it didn't work. Also unfortunately, as a result of the chemo, she contracted a serious infection which landed her in the ICU on a ventilator. Doctors gave her family a 5% chance of her recovering from the infection and leaving the ICU. And if she did survive the acute crisis, experimental treatment was the only option. The chance of her beating the cancer was essentially nil.

Her family chose to continue treatment instead of removing life support. And I remember during this time two of the staff at her office came to update me when I was there for a few hours.

The family, they complained, should just "let her go". The odds were so stacked against Sara that they felt it was cruel to continue medical treatment.
They complained.
And complained.

Although fully understanding their concerns, I had to speak up for the family. Partly because I tend to play the devil's advocate in any given conversation:), but partly because of some of the experiences I had in my medical residency. Don't get me wrong... I have seen very irrational demands made by families that in my opinion prolonged suffering, and in at least one case, did more damage. But I also gained a healthy respect for the process that families go through when losing a loved one. And I also think sometimes that families sense things about a patient that medical staff is just unable to pick up on. So I spoke up for the family and the decisions they were choosing to make for Sara's care (i.e., continuing treatment for at least a few more days). I mean, she was 26 years old. And if she survived, may have a few months to spend with family, friends and her boyfriend. She may have a chance to say whatever she needed to say... and the same for her family.

Against very serious odds, Sara improved.
And left the hospital.
And was well enough to be out and around for a few months.

I don't know Sara well. I don't know if she wishes they had "let her go" the first time. Or if she cherished the last few months and the time making more memories and saying her good-byes. We never had that conversation. But Sara was one to embrace the life she had, and I can only imagine she was grateful for these last months with her loved ones. Recently she entered hospice, and this morning she passed away.

I can't help but reflect on the last four months and how I might live my life differently if I KNEW that not only I had been given a second chance... but that I also didn't have much time left. I would want that time, especially if I was somewhat healthy for most of it. Even if it was very painful at the end. I would want those months when I, knowing the end was coming, could soak up and appreciate each day. Really live.

So I hugged my kids a bit tighter than usual before they went down for nap today.

I know it is a bit cliche.
I know it has been said thousands of times before.
But it is also something I forget on a daily basis.

Time is precious.
Life is fragile.
Now if I can only remember this lesson tomorrow...

Of Monkeys And Maturity

2011-04-30T14:10:00.000-07:00

I have mentioned before that Isaac had a speech delay. HAD, being the operative word because he is now busting out new four-word phrases and sentences every day. But he is very difficult to understand and so continues in speech therapy to improve his pronunciation. He has had his hearing screened twice in the past, but Early Intervention in our state wanted a formal hearing evaluation done... 18 months ago. The audiologist was on leave for quite a while and then it took months to get Isaac in. But we did.

I didn't suspect he would have any significant hearing problems.
But it wouldn't hurt just to be sure.

So yesterday Isaac and I took our own little excursion down to the Early Intervention offices. He was very suspicious of the audiologist at first, as he is apt to be. And, not persuaded by the plethora of REALLY cool toys in her cupboard, he sat on my lap while I pulled out magnets for him to organize. Ms. Audiologist informed Isaac that she wondered if he had monkeys in his ears. Did he, she asked, have monkeys in his ears? He smiled and thought for a second, "Ummmm. No" he said, but allowed her to place a small probe in his ear to "listen" for the monkeys. He ignored her and played.

Next we moved to another area where again probes needed to be placed in his ears. But this time he wanted to pick out a few of her toys to play with. He again sat on my lap. Midway through, he informed her that he was "All done with monkeys". And despite a few more protestations, he completed the test.

Next, we moved into the booth where he sat on my lap and we were able to see our reflection in a darkened window directly in front of us. Periodically soft noise would emanate from one of the corners followed by a toy making a racket. It was to test if he would turn in a direction once he heard the sound. He thought this was really funny. And after one toy stopped making noise, he sat with a half-smile on his face, eagerly anticipating the next go-round. At the end, Ms. Audiologist put ear phones on him and again left the booth. Apparently she was asking him to repeat certain words.

He was listening to what she was saying.
And he responded appropriately, following her direction.
He smiled at her and seemed very proud of himself.
And I was very proud.

Not so much because he was compliant (although that was very nice given the situation), but because he is such a big boy. Right now in my life, one day seems very much like the next. We change diapers, we eat, we dress, we have an activity, we play, we sleep, etc. I often feel like I may still be doing these exact same things ten years from now with not an iota of change... and find myself discouraged. But every so often there is a moment when it becomes so brilliantly clear that the triplets really are getting older and more capable.

This was one of those moments.
It was just a hearing test.
But to me it was a quiet glimpse at how Isaac's personality is blossoming.

He followed directions and answered questions, interacting with others without my input.

They are growing quickly.
Some days it seems too quickly.
Some days it seems not quickly enough.

But very soon I will have preschoolers.
And I will wonder where all the time went...

Does It Make Me A Bad Mother If I Like It When The Kids Are Sick?

2011-04-22T15:18:00.000-07:00

That is the question I asked my parents when they picked up the phone yesterday.

Let me explain...

Two days ago the kids were crazy as usual. We spent the morning at a nature preserve with a friend. They were happy, playing, eating.

And then suddenly, just as we returned from the grocery store about 5:30 pm, Isaac laid on the couch looking languid. I turned on a L.eap Frog (They love their "froggies"!) video for them to watch while I made dinner. Halfway through Isaac was still in the same position on the couch, barely looking at the screen. Very unlike him. So I felt him... no fever. Huh.

Twenty minutes later I announced dinner was ready and turned off the TV. Isaac didn't want to move and at that point he was burning hot (how does that happen in twenty minutes???). Panic ran through me (as it does any time Isaac runs high temperatures), because I have this little parting gift left over from our experiences in the NICU... when Isaac runs high fevers my body is convinced that he is dying and I just don't know from what. I say my body because some part of my brain understands that statistically speaking he has a virus that will run its course and he will be as good as new. Chances are, part of me is aware, Isaac will survive this. But some part of my brain is still in the NICU and THAT is the part my body listens to. As a result, my heart pounds and my sympathetic nervous system gets all riled up. I struggle to maintain perspective.

Parker didn't want to eat and within ten minutes he was also laid out on the couch even with nothing on the TV. He, too, was fevering. Let's just say puking followed and no one got a whole lot of sleep that night.

The next morning Emery had joined the boys in the fevering. So they camped out on their bean bags... blankets, "special water" (f.resca), saltine crackers and a barf bowl (just in case!) within reach. The triplets only watch TV for about 30 minutes a few days a week while I make dinner. So being able to stare at the screen for hours was quite a treat for them.

And guess what happened?
For a period of about 3 hours the house was peaceful and quiet (except, of course, for the sound of the TV).

No bickering.
No fighting over toys.
No crying.

I was able to cuddle with them one at a time... and they actually WANTED to cuddle. Our existence became simplified. No running off to music class. No trips to the park in order to keep them from driving each other crazy. We just sat. And ate (very small amounts, I assure you). And drank (massive amounts of F.resca).

It was, at least for a brief amount of time, very pleasant to have them all sick:)

Of course that changed drastically this morning. Fevers are down around 100' which means we are in the ugly zone... three two-year-olds who don't feel well and therefore are extra whiny and clingy, but feel well enough to fight with each other.

*Sigh*
Such peaceful times never seem to last:)...

I Could Tell You...

2011-04-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

To explain my absence from this here blog, I could tell you that I am getting used to being on an additional high blood pressure medication and feeling a bit tipsy (although the five pounds of water weight I have lost in the last three days is a very happy side effect...) . I could explain in detail that allergy season (despite my two allergy medications) hit my mucous membranes with a bang two days ago, leaving me drippy, tired and cranky. I could tell you about the left side of my jaw which has been, for the last three months, locked in muscle spasms which have progressively become so severe that I am unable to open wide enough to eat a sandwich (or a banana, or anything taller than an inch), finally leading to treatments (hot/cold, massage and topical meds) four times a day. I could tell you about how grotesque-looking and annoyingly sore my right thumbnail has become as it starts to fall off, a victim of my early-morning run-in with my car door. I could tell you all about it and why I haven't gotten around to blogging.

But I won't:)
Anyway, I suppose this is what happens when one is within spitting distance from one's fortieth birthday (gasp!).

I WILL tell you that I finally got around to planting some herbs and veggies.

I am hoping for bell peppers, spinach, basil and green onions very soon! My brother-in-law was nice enough to set up a drip system for a few containers. Prior to the triplets, I had an indoor container garden of herbs in an unused bar area along a South-facing window. It was a fabulous operation with bushy basil plants which I adored. After their birth, the bar area became Triplet Central and my basil slowly died an ugly death of neglect. My attempt at a real garden, started when the kids were about six months old, fizzled about six months later as some changes needed to be made to the backyard. And since then I have wanted to at least have a bit of dirt to play in. I finally took some time last Saturday to place some rocks, peat moss and fabulous soil in a few large containers. The kids "helped me" plant the seeds, lovingly cover them and water them gently.

Something about planting seeds and anxiously awaiting those beautiful green shoots makes me feel productive.
And nurturing.
And peaceful.
And satisfied.

Now THAT I will tell you:)

Two Weeks With Grandma And Grandpa

2011-04-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

So we spent two weeks in the Most Beautiful Place on Earth visiting with my parents. We had a great trip, filled with kid-friendly museums, time with Grandma and Grandpa, and first exposures to movies such as T.oy Story (which, by the way, although the kids loved, they found it to be "scary!").

Here are some of the pics. Unfortunately, most of the pictures of my parents with the kids are on my phone and I won't get them transferred for another day. That, and I don't have the pics from my Mother's camera since she jetted off to Palm Springs (rough life...) for a girls' week and I won't get them until she returns from (well-deserved, btw...) lounging by the pool:).

We spent some time at the coast.

Parker was fascinated by the sea foam. He would lean over, getting his face very close, point to the foam and then yell "Bubbles" over and over. Then he would run forward a few steps to another clump of foam and yell "Bubbles!!! Bubbles!!!" again while looking around to ensure everyone was paying attention.

The kids had their first hamburger. Well, at least Emery and Parker had their first hamburger. Isaac only ate the bread. Another first was... chocolate chip cookies! Yes, I have yet to make cookies for my kids (does that make me a bad mom... or just lazy?) Anyway, Grandma ran the show and the triplets, Grandpa and I were in charge of dough tasting (which we purposefully made with E.gg Beaters so we could eat more dough than cookies if we wished...)

We went on daily walks, sometimes in the rain.

We threw some tantrums. Yes, the "we" was purposeful. The kids didn't sleep well in their p.ea pods this time. And since Matt was home working for nine of the days we were gone, I pulled solo night duty... up sometimes four times a night. Which leaves very little in reserve when one is caring for three two-year-olds all day! Luckily Grandma and Grandpa were great-- helping me entertain the kids and taking them places so I could get a break.

We played at the park

We colored Easter eggs

We visited a friend's horse farm to see the horses, cows and llamas (the kids LOVE them some Llama Llama books!)

And we got very close to the resident animals...

We played with cousin Annalise

And at least once each day that Matt was home working we spent time chatting with him on S.kype.

Although herding the triplets through the airport was a bit rough, and we had two separate meltdowns in the food court just before boarding our flight home, the flight itself was smooth. Helped by the fact that Isaac fell asleep on take-off and was out for an hour. Two adults taking care of two two-year-olds on a flight is MUCH easier than three two-year-olds! It was positively pleasant (at least most of the time). They even got well-deserved compliments on being "great travelers" from the person across the aisle and the man right behind me. Significant improvement from our flight out, you may remember. Well done, kids. Now, lets continue this trend on our flight next month...

Thanks Grandma and Grandpa for a great visit. We can't wait to head back out in August!

Month Thirty-Two

2011-04-12T09:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

No question I am in trouble. The three of you are each moving boxes, b.ig wheels, toy grocery carts, etc up to kitchen counters, adding inches to your reach. Which then means you have access to nearly everything... including my knife block. As a result I am in the midst of ANOTHER wave of kid-proofing the kitchen, our bathroom and the laundry room.

We have had a great time at Grandma and Grandpa's over the last few weeks. You have been making cookies with Grandma and wrestling with/jumping on top of Grandpa. You have had a completely new set of cupboards, drawers and table tops to explore!

Emery: You have, in the last month, developed a "thing" for the color pink. You always liked pink things. But you will on occasion now throw an impressive tantrum if you are unable to wear pink... hot pink in particular. I am, in case you are not aware, not really a pink girly-girl. Which means I have done quite a bit of returning clothes as you have become much more picky. Now before taking the tags off I consult with the princess to see if she can condescend to wear a pair of shoes or jacket her mother just picked up at the store. I am a little concerned about your summer clothes as I did most of the shopping at end-of-season sales last year and most of it is not pink. We may be in trouble!

We bought some galoshes while we have been here at Grandma and Grandpa's house since it has been raining off and on since we arrived. They boys are not at all impressed by their firemen boots and as a result, I will be returning them. You, on the other hand, want to wear your pink galoshes as much as possible. Really. All the time.

You are great about wearing your glasses... the vast majority of the time at least. But something about wearing your glasses when in your car seat is problematic. I'm guessing that the pieces which wrap around the back of your ears contact your seat, making your glasses uncomfortable. All I know is that it is very common for you to take off your glasses while in the car, sometimes putting them back on, sometimes (much to my chagrin) playing with them. But really you are great most of the time. That is until this last week while we were driving in the car and I heard a loud snap. You broke your glasses in half along the bridge. Which must have taken a significant amount of force. *sigh*

Parker: You have become very "handsy". You have to touch everything. And I do mean e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. And your reach has become impressive. You are into cupboards you previously never paid attention to. Drawers (in particular my kitchen tool drawer which VERY unfortunately will not accommodate a drawer lock) are constant targets. Emery has been trying to tell you what to do for nearly a year. You have finally started returning the favor. Dinner time has become more interesting as you frequently lecture Emery if she does something wrong or I give her instructions.

You are intensely curious and seem to have the attention span of a flea. As we have visited come museums while here visiting Grandma and Grandpa, your siblings will sometimes stay with an activity for 15-20 minutes. You? Not even close. You flitter from display to display as if you are running out of time and must see everything in five minutes. You love c.raisins and will eat them in large quantities. In the nursery at church you have gone through their entire bag of c.raisins in the last month

Your new favorite word is "Wo!" You are a big fan of cars and when you watched a few minutes of the IndyCar qualifying action with me on Saturday you spent much of the time yelling "Wo! Wo! Wo! Wo!" as the cars raced around the track. It appears I spawned a new IndyCar fan:). You had the same reaction when we played the beginning of the movie C.ars for you. The cars are weaving in and out of each other and you sat transfixed, averaging about ten "Wo!"'s a minute.

Isaac: While here at Grandma and Grandpa's, we visited an animal shelter with your Aunt, Uncle and cousin as they looked to adopt a cat. As we walked through, viewing rooms with cats perched on ledges covered in pillows, you correctly noticed that the cats were climbing in areas you would not be allowed to climb. So through the windows your raised your pointer finger and told those cats without question they were to "get down!". When they failed to do so, you counted them and then said "Time out!".

I have been pleasantly surprised in the last few months with the improvements you have made in "taking turns". You are adamant when it is your turn... but you also (at least over 50% of the time) are good about allowing your siblings to have their turns. Even with toys you are very excited about. You are a happy boy, squealing and giggling with delight. In particular, you love a game we have recently been playing where you run off some distance from me. Then after yelling "Ready, set, go!" or "1, 2, 3!", you come running full speed directly into me, laughing the entire time. I love the game because it eventually wears you out:).

You have, in recent days developed a Serious Garage Door Obsession. Not only do you engage in a three-way argument with your siblings in order to "Push the button!" to raise or lower our garage doors. But as we take walks around the neighborhood you point out every (and I do mean e.v.e.r.y) garage door saying "Oh, garage door!" as if you are surprised.

In an (possibly vain) attempt to help you learn about consequences and learn to follow directions, I give the three of you choices. Lots of choices. Within limits of course. I let you choose between two things I could live with.

Do you want milk or water?
Do you want to cuddle in the rocking chair or have me rub your back in the crib at nap time?
Do you want to wear a red shirt or blue shirt?
Do you want to continue coloring, or return the crayons to the bowl so you can go play somewhere else?
Do you want to stay home with Rosa and continue your tantrum or come to the park?
Do you want to take turns or should the toy go in time out?
Do you want to get in your booster seat for lunch or go straight to your crib for a nap?

Sometimes I feel like all I do all day is give you choices:). But the more I give you choices and their consequences the more I see the wheels turning in your head. I see you making connections. I see you following directions and I see you throwing fewer tantrums when you don't get exactly what you want. Because with very few exceptions... you at least have a choice.

But don't get me wrong...you are still very much two-year-olds. Complete meltdowns may result if I make the horrible mistake of peeling a banana instead of letting you do it yourself. Or *gasp!* cut the stem off a strawberry before giving it to you. We spend much time with you each putting on or taking off your own jackets, socks or shoes.

I am frequently overwhelmed, exhausted and perplexed.
I am also frequently thrilled, proud and grateful.
Ah, such is the life with toddler triplets:).

I love you very much!
Love,
Mom

Good News Friday

2011-04-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I started an email correspondence with the sister of a friend that I grew up with. She and her husband had been unable to conceive after a few years of trying. They were consulting a fertility specialist and she was interested in any suggestions/advice/ideas I had to share with her.

We have been corresponding since then. I would hold my breath as her "beta day" came near at the end of an IVF. And as three IVFs passed with only two chemical pregnancies to show for it, my heart grew increasingly heavy. I understand well the frustration, heartache and longing .

But as I included the phrase "Good News" in the title, you may suspect that things have changed for them.
They have.
She is twelve weeks pregnant with twins!

I have known for two months, and have nearly exploded while trying to keep her secret. Today is the day that they are making the information public. And so I am making it VERY public because I am so amazingly excited for them.

And because it is a reminder that sometimes, even after multiple failures and much heartache, really great things happen to really great people.

Because Motherhood Just Wouldn't Be Complete Without At Least One Good Old Fashioned Poop Smearing Party

2011-04-05T21:36:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, the boys started taking off their diapers during nap or early in the morning. And I started getting really sick of changing sheets multiple times a day. As a result, we now duct tape their diapers on before putting them in their cribs.

That is... we did.

I forgot today at nap time.
I had changed Isaac an hour or two earlier while at the Children's Museum, so didn't think he needed a change before putting them down for a snooze. As a result I failed to notice that I was putting him down without the duct tape safety net.

Two hours later when Emery was screaming bloody murder and I had to go rescue her from some horrid dream, I noticed that Isaac was fast asleep in a fetal position... totally naked. "Oh for heaven's sake!", I thought, knowing that the sheets would be wet and I would be doing laundry when they woke up. But I didn't look any closer into his pea pod. Didn't see the need.

An hour later when I returned to get the boys up, Isaac was still sleeping. I started singing to Isaac as I opened up his pea pod.

At first I wondered how he got into my mother's chocolate chips.
I saw several of them scattered around his his pea pod.
And some "chocolate" smeared on two books, his feet, his forearms, his back, a few cars, and his lovey.
Oh, and both hands were crusted in the brown stuff.

Of course you have all figured out what took me several seconds and a deep breath to realize.
My son was, unfortunately, not covered in chocolate.
He was covered in dried and crumbly poop.

Nice.

It didn't appear that he purposefully smeared it all over. It looked more like his was initially curious about what was going on as he pooped... and then fell asleep, allowing the poop to get smeared around a bit as he slept.

I will spare you details of the clean up. Let's just say that if it wasn't 40' outside, I would have taken up my father on his suggestion to just take Isaac and everything outside to be hosed down. Instead my Dad helped me with the other two kids and Mom got Isaac into the bath (unfortunately we were unsuccessful at keeping him from attempting to drink the water...) while I scrubbed everything down and threw in a load of laundry.

I forgot to duct tape Isaac's diaper today.
Let's just say that won't happen again...

What I Learned Today In A Public Restroom

2011-04-04T14:31:00.000-07:00

My father and I took the kids to a world-class science museum near where they live. Luckily my membership at our little children's museum at home got us in for free. At one point, we moved to a different area of exhibits and I realized two of the kids had dirty diapers. So on our way over, I stopped at a bathroom to change Emery and Isaac. Unfortunately, none of the kids were willing to stay outside the Women's restroom with Grandpa, so for the first time ever I took all three kids into a public bathroom (that isn't a "family" bathroom) without them being locked into strollers or car seats.

Multiple unconfined toddlers in a public bathroom + A need to change diapers = Chaos.

Without question.

Right?

Isaac has a fear of laying on those retractable diaper changing stations (as do I, but for a very different reason, I suppose...). As a result, he retained, for the entire duration of the diaper change, a death grip on my left wrist. Twisting and pulling my shirt while making it nearly impossible for me to use my left hand except for my thumb.

So yes, there I was attempting to supervise two unconfined two-year-olds in a public restroom and keeping them from giving each other swirlies while desperately trying to quickly change another poopy diaper with one hand tied around my son (instead of my back).

Like I needed to make the experience more challenging.

It went much better than I expected. At one point, in between changing diapers, I had to move all three of them out of the way of a woman attempting to enter with her teenage daughter. I apologized as they continued to walk in front of her, blocking her way. She smiled at me and said, in a dignified southern accent, "Oh, don't worry darling, it appears you have your hands full!".

At times they were in and out of stalls and giggling over the towel dispenser. But luckily the restroom wasn't overly busy so they were never too much in the way.

And me?

I had another one of those great moments when I discover that I capable of doing things with the triplets I previously would have dismissed as impossible.

One of those rare moments when I feel truly competent.

I love those moments...:)

Of Passing Encounters

2011-04-02T07:35:00.000-07:00

*As an aside, I purchased three really cute toddler backpacks to which leashes can be attached. But we were unable to persuade the kids in the two days before we left that the packs were really cool and they wanted to wear them:(. So for this trip we went leash-less. I am hoping they will be sporting backpacks for our next trip...

********************************

Corralling three two-year-olds through a busy airport attracts attention.

And comments.

Two such comments we received on our trip out here have stuck with me... for very different reasons.

One was curious. One serious.

Both made me go "Hmmmm".

First the curious one...

After we reached our destination and walked up the concourse to meet up with my parents, a woman behind us on a "people mover" asked if the boys were twins. When I told her they were all triplets she was thrilled.

"Did you plan to have triplets?", she asked.

Now I have gotten this question three times in the last month.

And I never quite know how to answer them.

Because my first thought is always "Who in their right mind would purposefully plan on having triplets????"

Did I plan on having children?

Yes.

Did I do everything in my power including many fertility treatments to do so?

Yes.

Did I plan on having triplets?

Not on your life.

I told her that I hadn't planned on having triplets.

"Oh, but people do!", she insisted, "These days you can plan to have twins or triplets, you know."

She must be fertile because only fertile women would believe that you could put two embryos in the womb and PLAN ON getting twins. Same for triplets. She was very nice and sweet. I am not bashing her. And I am very aware that may women undergoing fertility treatments hope for twins. I have had several... ummmm, MANY women comment to me that they secretly always wished for twins (although I have yet to encounter one that wished for triplets...). I am just confused when people ask me if I "planned" on triplets. I guess I am assuming they are asking if I did fertility treatments? I'm thinking I am just confused by their wording. Because for the life of me I can't imagine that anyone would plan this...

When was talking to my parents about this as we drove home from the airport, my Dad had a great suggestion which I will use next time....

"I was planning on having quintuplets but ended up with only three. Gotta shoot high, I say!"

The serious one...

Since we breezed through security, we sat down at a food court and fed the kids breakfast before our flight. While we ate, a woman about my age passed by who had been sitting a few tables away.

"Triplets?, she asked."

When I replied that they are, her only comment with a smile as she kept moving was that we were very lucky.

Lucky.

Not exactly what people normally say in that situation (usually I get that I must be very busy, or that it must be hard, or that they can't imagine doing my job, or occasionally a "That's so cool!").

But lucky?

It was so unusual that I immediately turned to watch her go. As I watched her walk away, I noticed the large wedding ring on her hand. She is married and thinks we are lucky to have triplets.

I couldn't shake the idea that she has done lots of fertility treatments without success.

Or lost a baby.

Or is waiting on adoption.

Something.

Because in my mind only someone unable to create their own family would tell me, with such longing, that I am lucky to have triplets.

And as she walked out of the food court, a little piece of my heart went with her.

And I pray that very soon she, too, will be "lucky".

Flying The Mostly-Friendly Skies

2011-04-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

We made it.

And are now in the Most Beautiful Place On Earth.

We pulled Operation First Flight off with a reasonable amount of success.

Matt flies home in a few days to work for a little over a week before returning to help me shuttle the rugrats back home. But for now, we are enjoying the green and the kids are enjoying finding puddles and throwing tantrums in the mud.

But back to the flight...

We went through the handicapped security area which, at our airport, also has a little sign indicating it is also for families (a little tip from a friend...). Doing so made the whole process much smoother than it would have been otherwise, I'm sure. Matt walked through the detector with Emery and Isaac while Parker and I waited for our carry-on stuff to enter the machine. Then with Parker in hand, I walked through the metal detector... and set it off. I had no belt on and the only piece of jewelry was my anniversary band and that never set off the machines before so I was stumped. Until one of the TSA workers observed that one of Parker's pockets looked like he may have some thing in it. A car? she suggested. Not a car... no, THREE cars. In the less than five minutes he spent in the house between getting dressed and when we walked out the door (he was the last to get up since we had to wake the poor thing...), he managed to slip three cars in his pockets without us noticing:).

The major problem came when Isaac had a complete meltdown as we were second in line for taking off (his sense of timing was impeccable as always...). He wiggled out of his C.ARES restraint (note to self... follow internet instructions for gerry-rigging before flying home...) and was flopping around like a fish while I desperately tried to console him and figure out what the problem was. As I was doing so, the middle-aged man across the aisle from me turned to his friends and pantomiming putting on headphones, suggested they would all need ear plugs... nice. The problem it turned out was that Isaac wanted to sit by his father (of course, it would have been too easy just to TELL ME THAT). So as our plane stood ready for take-off, we traded children over the seat and then Isaac was a complete angel the rest of the trip. Gah. It helped that there was an extra seat next to me which meant we could indulge their desires for playing musical chairs the entire trip. Emery threw a few minor tantrums... one during the last five minutes before landing because she couldn't sit on my lap. I (partially) placated her by pretending to feed Lil' Missy her fruit snacks. Emery would then laugh and snatch them out of my hand before Lil' Missy could swallow her prize treats.

Whatever works:)

Overall, I would give the trip a rating of Not Too Bad And Could Have Been So Much Worse.

In my book, it beats the 17 hours of driving any day!

Bookin' It

2011-03-29T08:37:00.000-07:00

I started making a quiet book.
Apparently because I have nothing else to do...:)

No actually, it is something I have been working on bit by bit over the last several months. But as we get on an airplane here very soon, I made a last push and at least finished part of the book.

My mother was nice enough to do a traditional quiet book (very much like we had when I was little) and gave it to the kids for Christmas. But for church and other times when waiting is required (i.e., trips), I thought it would be good to have a second book. I went looking for pages that maybe are slightly less common so that we would have a variety of activities to choose from.

I chose to do it loose-leaf style so that pages can be separated for different children to use at the same time if needed. Also I thought it would help to add other pages as they get older and be able to take away younger pages as they grow. I have yet to do a cover... but with our trips looming, I am just thrilled that I was able to complete these eight! I have four or five more pages that I will do at some point in the near future, but so far these pages entertain the kids for a reasonable amount of time. (I am aware that there is a dark spot in the bottom of the pictures where my lens was in the way of my flash. I am very annoyed... but not annoyed enough to mount my big flash and take the pics again...)

Here is my "Noah's Ark page". The "ark" is filled with cut outs of animals from a Go Fish game I got at a dollar store. The idea was from How to Make a Quiet Book.

Here are my car pages. I got this idea from The Egberts' site and it is perfect for the boys since they spend hours with their M.atchbox cars. A car fits in the little orange "garage".

I got the idea for these two pages from The Egbert's site. She had a boy and girl figure to dress, and to make life simpler for myself I did just one. I did outfits for both boys and girls as well as hair and shoes. I didn't do any facial features, but I will try to add some in the next few months. This will continue to be a work in progress as I can only imagine that I will have to constantly be replacing lost pieces...

I did these ABC pages in the hopes that even four years from now they can use them to work on their spelling and reading. I put velcro strips along the pages and used iron-on letters fused onto felt. So far, it has been a big hit! (Idea from How to Make a Quiet Book)

This last page is the first of a planned two-page numbers activity.

It occurs to me that I only used ideas from two different sites so far. In actuality, I am planning pages inspired by at least three other blogs. There are great ideas out there!

The project has been a lot of fun. Probably because I did it slowly whenever I had time and wanted to work on it. It was a ton of work, but I am proud of the results!

The Many Faces of Emery

2011-03-24T11:20:00.000-07:00

So last week I was snapping some photos of the kids while they were playing out in the courtyard. And I caught Emery making some funny faces. This girl is a spitfire...

Attempting To Play My Way Through Toddlerhood

2011-03-22T08:25:00.000-07:00

Update #1-- Thank you for all of your advice on flying with the kids. I ordered the C.ARES restraints, I have bags for the car seats and we will have 2 DVD players, plenty of snacks and several of their favorite toys. I will be rereading all of your advice again and again over the next week, so if you have any more to add, feel free!

Update #2-- My thumb has survived being locked in my door, and although it remains very painful, I am fully functional. Now I am just hoping to keep my nail....
**************************************************

***As a disclaimer, I should say that I am not telling you about these Parenting books because I think they are must-reads for everyone. Most of you are probably much better at being playful than I am. But none of us has time to read even a significant portion of the Toddler Parenting books out there, so by telling you a bit about the ones I find to be helpful for me, I hope it will help you decide whether a particular book may be helpful for you.

So I just finished another Parenting-of-toddlers book and I thought I would share it with you.

I used to be obnoxious and really funny.
I used to be.
And to be honest, some of that still comes out when I am around my parents and siblings.

But now-a-days I am just simply too serious.
Maybe it is because I am getting old.
Maybe I am just a fuddy-duddy.
But the fact is, I am not playful enough with my kids.

So when I saw this book called P.layful P.arenting, I thought it might have some little nuggets to help both me and the triplets enjoy this phase of our lives.

Considering the time constraints that stressed-out parents of toddlers are under, I think this book was too long (what parent of toddlers wants to read a parenting book that is 320 pages???) But as someone who seems to have misplaced my sense of playfulness, I found this book to be helpful. I learned strategies to diffuse some meltdowns. I learned the importance of children getting a chance to act out their anxieties in play (i.e., Isaac putting Rody in time out). Many of the skills and ideas Dr. C.ohen talks about are much too old for my children, but I marked my K.indle copy well and expect to revisit the book when needed.

What I read in this book has already helped me to be more playful with the kids (at least some of the time). A few times a day I find myself using techniques I learned in this book. Sometimes it works, in which case I find myself avoiding a confrontation and instead making a connection. Sometimes it doesn't work (or maybe I am just not willing to be patient enough to follow it through.) But clearly the skills in this book have made a difference for me. I find myself looking for opportunities to be playful.

For example, last week I had the kids at M.y G.ym, and Emery was in a swing during "swinging time". She will swing for hours if I let her, and sometimes I get bored. In his book, Dr. C.ohen talks about finding ways to make the child's activity also fun for you, and how it is good to let small children become big and powerful at times during play since it is the adults in their lives that nearly always have the upper hand.

So as Emery swung towards me, I would allow her feet to just brush my chest or abdomen. And even if they didn't, I acted like she had just kicked me hard and I showed complete surprise. Emery giggled. And giggled and giggled and giggled. This went on for about 10 minutes and she couldn't get enough. I found new and more goofy ways of being incapacitated by her powerful swings. And she, hardly able to look at me from laughing too hard, would kick her legs out in an attempt to bowl me over even harder than last time.

The other parents looked at me quizzically but I didn't care. Because I was choosing to be playful and it was working... I was connecting with Emery in a really great way.

In summary: Too long, but if you are a mother that wants to learn to infuse more play into your relationship with your child, this book may be worth it. It was for me.

Onward and Upward!

I Mean, Who Does Things Like This?

2011-03-19T06:09:00.000-07:00

I have done some strange, clumsy things in my life.
And I'm assuming you have, too.

But have you ever locked your thumb in the car door?

Yes, let me repeat that...
Have you ever managed to shut and lock your own thumb in your own car door?

'Cuz I have.

Yesterday morning at 0'Dark Hundred I arrived at my gym for spin class. I opened the driver's side door, grabbed my bag and towel and then, using my key fob, locked the car and safely tucked the key into my zippered gym bag. In a rush not to be late to class, I jumped out of the car and shut the door forcefully. But then mid-shut I realized I had left my water bottle on my seat, so I apparently reached out to keep the door from closing (it all happened so fast I don't exactly remember my thought process.)

And it was then that I managed a feat few would aspire to (or even admit).
Not only did I slam the door shut on my thumb... but the door was now locked... on my thumb.

I stood there in shock for a moment, for it is not every day that one finds oneself physically attached to one's vehicle. I tried in vain to open the door with the handle which of course didn't work since I had already locked it with the remote key in an impulsive act of efficiency only moments before.

It was then, when I found myself with my right hand painfully stuck in the door and no one standing around to help, that I calmly worked the zipper on my gym bag open using my left hand. After what seemed like an hour (and yet I'm sure was less than a minute), I located my key and opened the door, freeing my somewhat mangled thumb.

I had an indentation on my thumb equal to half the depth of said thumb, extending diagonally from my nail bed to my first knuckle.

Ouch.

Let's just say after the adrenaline wore off (initially I headed towards the gym to spin... but that lasted exactly 20 seconds until the pain kicked in... what was I thinking???) I was in some seriously dreadful pain. I went into urgent care to be sure I hadn't broken my dominant thumb. A thumb which I find to be particularly useful when caring for 2-year-old triplets. The doctor took one look at my swollen and bruised digit and sent me to x-ray.

"I have seen lots of people break their fingers and thumbs after slamming them in doors... but you are the first one I have seen who actually LOCKED their thumb in a door", he said, as if I should be proud. He also mentioned that my story of getting my gym bag open and finding my key in order to free myself reminded him of A.ron Ralston, and it sure was a good thing I had a key. A good thing, I agreed, for having to sharpen my gym card to saw off my thumb would indeed have taken quite some time.

Luckily the gods smiled upon me and I am fracture-free. Yeehah! He sent me home with a few medications, an ace bandage-wrapped hand, and orders to be "off work" for at least three days.

In a perfect world that would mean I would spend the weekend sleeping and reading in bed while drugged out on pain killers.

But then again, if this was a perfect world, I wouldn't have locked my thumb in the door:).

Calling All Traveling Moms

2011-03-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

So I mentioned we were braving the (hopefully) friendly skies avec brood in May... a plan hatched in what I could only assume was a state of We-Can-Actually-Take-Our-Kids-Out-In-Public! Hysteria.

But clearly we have come down with something more serious... because we have now decided to lug the kids onto an airplane (filled with unsuspecting people...) to see my parents in a few weeks. An undertaking that both excites me and instills fear into the very core of my being.

I mean, three 2 1/2 year olds restricted to an airplane seat for a few hours? This could go really well... or lead to the world's worst meltdown (times three...)

Now I know some of you who have flown with your kids, multiples or no, who must have much wisdom to impart.

So please... impart.

Dear readers, I could use your suggestions on traveling with with toddlers; advice on car seats (i.e., how did you bag them?, etc), what has helped you when flying with your toddlers, how you dealt with the ID issue (I didn't see anything on the TSA site that I need any form of ID for the kids), etc.

Anything would be helpful.
No really, anything.
Those who know me IRL are aware Common Sense is not exactly my strong suit...

You can post in the comments or email me.
Vielen Dank!:)

I Just Hope This Doesn't Become A Career Choice

2011-03-16T09:07:00.000-07:00

Last evening after feeding the kids dinner, I was doing the dishes and finishing up some cooking for tonight. Rosa has been out sick and today was going to be a crazy day, so I was just getting a jump on things. You know, multi-tasking like crazy. But the kids were happy and we were singing songs. All was good. All of the sudden Parker insisted on removing his shirt... followed by Emery... followed by Isaac. They then insisted on removing their pants and diapers. Stripping right there in the kitchen. Not exactly an everyday occurrence here in the SassyMama household. I repeated over and over that we weren't bathing but suggested now might be a good time to sit on the potty.

As I needed to remove a dish from the oven in 2 minutes, I recommended we use the potty chairs in the laundry room only steps away. Fabulous, they were happy to do so.

But I realized when they sat down that we were missing the third seat (I mean really... to whence does a potty seat disappear???). So with Parker and Emery now completely naked and happily ensconced on their respective potty chairs, I left with Isaac to find the wayward seat. I had been gone not ten seconds when I heard the two in the laundry room squeal, yell "Daddy!", and the door to the garage shut loudly. I assumed Matt had entered.

I was wrong.

Turns out that Emery and Parker, hearing the garage door go up outside, ran out of the laundry room into the garage. Which means Matt (along the neighbor walking his dog and any cars going by) was met with two kids in the driveway jumping up and down in their birthday suits.

Stark Naked

Nice.

I suppose we are out of the running for Neighbor Of The Year?:)

Month Thirty-One

2011-03-12T13:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,

The obsession this month has been the closing of doors. You argue over who gets to close each door we move through, and two of you found the fact that you weren't able to close the automatic doors at the library profoundly disturbing. Profoundly. Occasionally just to prevent a complete meltdown I have to re-open a door just closed by one of your siblings so that you can have a chance to "Close the door!!!"

The number of books we read at bedtime has grown from one to four. Some are old favorites from our own collection (i.e., Corduroy), and others are new finds from the library (i.e., Llama Llama books). Parker was so disturbed when I returned Red Truck to the library (after renewing it as much as I could) that I eventually went and checked it out again. We then sing a few songs; Happy Birthday, Popcorn Popping and Little Red Caboose are your current faves.

Emery: You heart play-doh. You love to roll it into balls and when we help you form stars, flowers, animals, etc with the colorful stuff. But what you REALLY love to do with play-doh is stick it in your purses, or the play-doh containers and carry it around with you. For hours if I let you... which I don't. And, despite the fact that it cannot possibly taste better than the actual food I feed you... I find you gnawing on pieces of play-doh. Ummmm.... yuck!

Yesterday we were at the park for a few hours (sunny and in the 70's!) during which you played for quite a while in the sand box. Unbeknownst to me, you managed to smuggle a bucket's worth of sand into the pockets (and I mean EVERY pocket) of your overalls. Sand which you waited until we were inside the house to disclose. You stood in the middle of the kitchen and, with a proud look on your face, stuffed both hands into your pockets. Holding handfuls of sand aloft, and while exclaiming, "Mom, look what I have!", you dropped the sand all over the floor. A discussion regarding the fact that sand is an "outside toy" commenced...

You love to be a mommy's helper. Periodically you ask for wipes and randomly start wiping down the playroom or kitchen floors. Next month we will advance to mopping. Maybe that way my floors can get mopped daily!

Parker: You have a thing for belts. Brown belts, black belts, colorful belts, your father's belts, my belts. They are a must-have accessory when you are in our bathroom every morning. You empty your father's belts out of the drawer, occasionally demanding ("Put it ON!!!) that one or more belts be placed on you, one of your siblings or me.

We had pancakes last weekend for breakfast. A new batch came hot off the griddle and after letting them cool, cutting them up and slathering the pancakes with syrup, we added several pieces to your plate. "Mama is hot!", you exclaimed several times with much excitement. "Huh?", I said. "Yes, she sure is", your father said. Turns out you were really asking "Mama is it hot?", but I prefer to view it as positive feedback of my newly energized exercise routine:)

You love to run. Sometimes you love to run when I would rather you wouldn't (i.e., in music class, library story time, etc), but run you do. You love to be chased. You love to run as fast as you can straight into me if I am sitting on the floor whether or not I know you are coming... which has led to a few battle wounds:). You sure do love to run. And I must get some video because your short little legs turn over very quickly!

Isaac: You, my son, are finally starting to understand the idea that actions have consequences, and I start to see you avoiding timeouts when possible. You used to run headlong into whatever you wanted to do irregardless of the coming consequences. Now you seem to realize (often with some reminding) what the consequence of a certain action is, and you often stop doing something to avoid a time out or having to be taken out of an activity you are enjoying. And for this I am eternally grateful!:)

You have always been intrigued by dogs. When a dog walked past you, you would stop, mesmerized. But a few months ago we were petting a nice dog and he barked very loudly at you (playfully). It scared you terribly. As a result, when you see a dog, even hundreds of feet away, you come running to me, screaming in pure fear, insisting on being held until the horrible beast moves off.

You have great fine-motor skills. I pulled out some big wooden beads and long shoelaces a few weeks ago and within minutes you were adeptly stringing brightly colored beads one after another. It didn't take long for you to discover that by placing the beads on the table, you could guide the lace through and pull it out the other side. Two weeks ago you busted out with your first four-word phrase (plus two...). "Oh, there it is! Green light!" you yelled in the car (we have been discussing how green lights mean go...) What a difference a few months makes!

Time is flying by.
I write these letters and never fail to be surprised when I realize another month has again passed by. All I can do is work to make the best use of these days as they continue to pass quickly. And I hope that I am doing you justice.

I hope that I play with you enough.
I hope that I listen to you enough.
I hope that I hug you enough.
I hope that I kiss you enough.

And above all, I hope you know how much I treasure each of you separately in my heart.
Love,
Mom

True Love Or Just A Passing Crush?

2011-03-10T16:54:00.000-08:00

I mentioned in an earlier post (which I am too lazy at this current moment to dredge up...) that the kids are very into two girly guitars that were bequeathed to us.

I hide them.
Frequently.
Not because of the strange music that emanates from them.
No, it is because there are two guitars... and three children.
The fighting gets completely out of control.

Last week the boys unfortunately figured out how to best our defenses which previously kept them away from Matt's G.uitar H.ero stuff (which he never uses) and various other video game paraphernalia.

They found the G.uitar H.ero guitars.
Two of them.
And Parker was instantly in love.
Unplugged, the guitars make no noise, but he enjoys reciting the colors lined up in blocks along the neck. And he walks around pretending he is playing great music.

For a few nights he insisted on taking his new BFF into his crib at night.
And one night we found this when we went in to check on him...

The picture wasn't great... and as I was not willing to risk waking him up I didn't try again.
But you get the idea:)

Because Life Was Much Too Quiet Before Kids

2011-03-07T14:31:00.000-08:00

There was a time that I thought this "Terrible Two's" thing wasn't too bad.
There was a time.

The last few days would not be included in that time.

For reasons which I have yet to decipher, there has been an increase of this in the SassyMama household...

Oh, and don't forget this...

And lest you think Parker is not implicated in the Tantrum-Fest that has been the last few days... I just haven't managed to be calm enough to pick up my camera during one of his meltdowns.

More fighting.

More screaming.

More tantrums.

More whining.

Difficult bed times.

Difficult trips to the grocery store.

*Sigh*
This does end eventually, right?
'Cuz having three little ones clinging to my legs while screaming is getting... ummmm... old.
Very old:)

Anatomy Of A Rody Time Out

2011-03-02T15:13:00.000-08:00

We have a r.ody.
For those of you who don't know, a r.ody is this inflatable horse thing that the kids use to hop around.

The rule in our house is that the kids are not to be sitting or standing on the tables.
Isaac is not a fan of this rule. He occasionally gets wrapped up in his play and ends up with a time out for not getting off the table.

The other day I found Isaac in the middle of a little dramatic play. I had my camera out, but had trouble getting some good pics. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the video camera to cooperate, so until he does it again (which I expect he will...), this is my only documentation.

He picked Rody up and placed him on top of the table and then proceeded to wag his finger at the unsuspecting Rody saying "No, No R.ody!" and "Down, R.ody!". When R.ody failed to respond properly (ummm... by getting down), Isaac continued, holding up the appropriate fingers; "One, two, three. Time out, R.ody!".

Rody was then removed from the table and carried around the corner to the usual time out place where Isaac repeated to R.ody what his crime was, and and told him he was in time out until Mr. Dinger (the alarm we use for time outs) let him out.

He did this twice in a row, and I have seen him do it once before.

I was happy to see that Isaac was calm and deliberate with R.ody... no yelling or screaming (because I'm hoping that is how he experiences my time out technique...). And I was also happy to see that R.ody stayed put as he was told until Isaac removed him from time out to repeat the process. What a good boy, R.ody!

Just Like Wine

2011-02-27T14:48:00.000-08:00

Matt turns 40 years old today.
Happy Birthday!!!

I wish I had a great picture of Matt to insert here... but I don't since my pictures are on the computer at home... and I am not at home.

We are a few hours from home, enjoying a romantic weekend at the beach.
We have a room in a great hotel where at high tide the waves break just under our verandah.
The waves are so loud that the hotel provides ear plugs:).

But we love it.
It reminds us of cruises we used to take before the triplets, when we would lay in bed with the verandah doors open and listen to the waves outside.

We have taken walks on the beach holding hands.
We have enjoyed long meals and lazy afternoon naps.
We have slept in.

It has been fabulously relaxing for both of us.

Happy Birthday, Matt.
You just get better with age, babe:)

Can't We Just Clap For Them And Stay Home?

2011-02-26T09:03:00.000-08:00

I have mentioned to my parents several times that if Matt wasn't around, the triplets and I would be hermits. Matt is the one that comes up with new things to do that sound overwhelming to me... but adventurous to him. And over the last few years, I have come to appreciate that trying these new things with the kids is important.

Case in point...

Last Monday, being President's Day here in the US of A, Matt took the day off. The kids still had their M.y Gym class they could go to, so that was our plan in the morning. Well, at least that was all that I had planned for them in the morning.

Matt, on the other hand, had much bigger plans for the day.

First of all, he wanted to take them out to breakfast on our way to M.y Gym.

Out to breakfast.

Three two-and-a-half-year olds.

Never something to be entered into lightly.

We have taken them out to eat before... but only when we either had more adults with us, or when we were on the road. Those stops at M,cDonald's when we were on the road were not pleasant experiences, to say the least (for us or for the other patrons, I might add). Until this point, when I hear talk of taking the kids out to eat, what I really hear is, "Warning, Warning! NOT worth it!!" It is just a ton of work But I agreed to Matt's plan, partially because I figured it would cure him of wanting to take the kids out to eat... at least for another few months.

So we headed off to M.y Gym and stopped at a M.cDonald's around the corner. It was full of elderly people. Elderly people who beamed and smiled when Parker did his level best to empty the large container of sugars and straws while Matt and I ordered their food. Elderly people who watched our every move as we found a table during what was clearly the breakfast rush, and attempted to keep the kids entertained until the food was ready (nice thing about McD's, the wait isn't long...). Elderly people who came up and asked if they were really triplets and giggled as they watched the kids eat their breakfast biscuits with a fork. Every single time I looked up, I was met with the gaze of another patron. I was not exactly happy to be the morning's entertainment... for we all know how unpredictable two-year-olds are. A major meltdown is never out of the question.

But to my surprise, all three sat nicely in their booster seats and ate their breakfast. Juice was squeezed all over, but that is easily remedied. We left quickly to make it to their class as about 20 eyes followed us out the door.

But we did it.

Conquered McD's

And did it with style, I might add.

With nary a tantrum to show for it.

Which only seemed to energize Matt...

After the kids napped and we did a little yard work (the triplets are becoming quite the little helpers!!), Matt suggested we take them to C.huck E. C.heese's for dinner.

"Really?" Was my response.

"No, Really?"

Because an establishment with hoards of children running around and cardboard pizza never sounded like the ideal place to take two-year-old triplets. I had been successful in brushing off his previous attempts to tackle the dreaded party place. But not wanting to be the party-pooper mother, I agreed to the plan. Convinced, as I was previously with breakfast, that it would be enough of a catastrophe that I would be spared for another six months.

Off we went. The kids stayed close to us and loved watching the machines and video games. They rode a little bus that sang "The Wheels on the Bus", and generally enjoyed pushing buttons. Once our pizza arrived, they sat nicely in their booster seats, shared their drink, ate their pizza and generally behaved very well.

No tantrums.

No escapees.

No throwing of food.

We went home and put them to bed.

Two restaurants (the term used loosely, of course) in one day.

My kids ate McD's breakfast and cardboard pizza.

Not exactly the height of nutrition.

But they were happy and gained more experience eating in public.

I thought Matt would be pleased.

I knew he would be confident to take them out again.

But I didn't expect that this successful day of restauranting would lead to... a 10-day vacation to the East coast, necessitating 6 hours of flying. Yep, his Can-Do attitude has been validated and we may very well (tickets have not yet been purchased, so we'll see...) be strapping the Mostly Toothful Threesome into airplane seats.

And why not? Even I am now ready for a good challenge.

Ummmmm... I'm suggesting you don't fly East from the West coast the weekend of May 14th.

If you fail to heed my suggestion and have three screaming toddlers in the back of your plane, running up and down the aisles... don't say I didn't warn you:).

Heaven help us!

That's My Boy!

2011-02-21T07:09:00.000-08:00

Isaac had fungal sepsis as part of his complicated NICU course.
Depending on the source of information, between 50 and 70% of such children go on to have some sort of neurodevelopmental delay. So when Isaac showed some speech/language delay, I wasn't surprised and sought an evaluation through the early intervention program in our state at 15 months of age. At 18 months of age he was found to be 7-11 months behind in language skills. Since then he has been followed by a Developmental Specialist and Speech Therapist, and we have been incorporating their suggestions into our routine at home.

Recently he had a yearly reevaluation.
He is now developing as expected except for his pronounciation of a few sounds.
Yep, completely age appropriate except for the way he says (or doesn't say...) m, b and p.
Which technically puts him about a month behind in expressive language.

He communicates.
A lot.
He has nearly 200 words (his first words were in June last year... so 200 words in 8 months... not bad!), and his 3-word phrases have recently been multiplying exponentially.

I have worried a lot about him over the last year. But Isaac has blossomed in the last several months. He is funny, assertive, and is very clear about what he wants or doesn't want:). His Speech Therapist nearly bubbles over with excitement lately as a result of his leaps in improvement.

And me?
I am in heaven since they want me keeping a good list of his words and phrases (my obsessive-compulsive side is ever.so.happy to oblige), and I get to see the list grow every week. But mostly I am grateful for his progress, and proud of his tenaciousness.

Well done, my son!

Lower-Frustration Parenting

2011-02-17T09:57:00.000-08:00

I tend to be my own worst critic.
If you haven't noticed... I am very hard on myself.
And although I am not a "screamer"(Well, there was that one time... which led to my checking out this book), I have been known to become very frazzled, seemingly converting into a two-year-old again.

I want to be as happy in my parenting as possible because I firmly believe that will help my children to have as happy a childhood as possible (well, and just because I would like to enjoy these years also...). But like most mothers, I get brutally frustrated with my kids at times and I have been searching for ideas or different ways of looking at the problems which toddlers (especially when in a 3-pack) present.

I have read (or at least started) about five Parenting-of-Toddler books.
Some books others have loved just haven't resonated with me.
And there have been times when, from books that sound cheesy, I have gleaned helpful advice.

So when searching for information, I found this book called S.creamFree Parenting.
Why not?, I thought... what do I have to lose?

I started reading the copy I checked out of the library. But 30 pages in, it became clear from the numerous notes I had taken that this was a book I would want to revisit repeatedly. So I bought the kindle version and marked it up to my heart's content. His premise is that emotional reactivity of parents is what causes situations to spiral downward. Not exactly a novel idea, but what he said made sense to me, especially given my personality (ummmm... I can be a bit high-strung).

And you know what?

It has helped.

The last week has been quite enjoyable. I have still have had my share of frustrations (I mean, they are two-years-old... Tantrums Happen. And unfortunately this book didn't manage to teach my kids the joys of logical thinking...), but I am making strides in the right direction. I wish there were more specific examples in the book and details on how he would recommend dealing with certain situations. But I'm hoping that the more I practice, the easier it will be to calmly determine how to handle new issues. Just like books about newborns, whether or not a particular person will find a book on toddlers to be helpful probably depends a lot on the parent's personality, life experience and how they themselves were parented. This books isn't going to solve all of my problems, but I see it as one more tool to help me navigate this crazy journey we call Motherhood.

So for those of you who find yourself in a similar situation... it may at least be worth checking out of the library.

Month Thirty

2011-02-12T13:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Emery, Parker and Isaac,
Two-and-a-half, huh?
Big kids now, huh?
Well, actually... I must admit you are.

"Princess shoes" are currently all the rage at the house. So much so that the two pair Grandma V gave Emery at Christmas time fell short of the household demand. So I bought more. As a result, there are times when all three of you (yes, including you boys...) put "princess shoes" on and jump on your Big Wheels complete with purses flying from the handlebars. You run like a gang up and down the hallway. You know, a princess shoe-wearing, purse-carrying Big Wheel-riding gang:).

Emery: You are, in general, a happy girl (that is, between tantrums, you understand...). You are nurturing to your brothers if they get an "owie", and very interested in watching and following other girls older than you like your cousins.

Speaking of tantrums... your's have changed over the last month. Before when you got mad you would drop to your knees or maybe stomp around while exuding a shrill ear-piercing scream. But as of late, you drop to the floor on your stomach, flailing both arms and legs and rolling around on the ground while crying and screaming. Just like in the movies:). The first time you did it, despite my best attempts, I failed to conceal my laughter. Then just a few days ago, as we left story time at the library you dropped to the ground and started into a tantrum (because I wouldn't carry you with everything else my arms were needed for at the time...). So I said "Ok, bye-bye Emmie" and continued chasing Isaac up the ramp to the exit (of course, keeping an eye on you over the wall the whole time). After about 10 seconds you stopped and looked around. Seeing we had moved on without you, you yelled "Mama!" and came running after us happy as could be:). You are indeed Sassy, my little one:)

I have mentioned before your penchant for undressing while in your crib. It starts as we rock you to sleep and you pull one arms into your pajama sleeve. At times we would find your sleeper down around your waist. But we hit a new low a few weeks ago when you had stretched out the sleepers enough to get both legs stuck in one leg of your sleeper. You would then wake VERY angry and confused:). To remedy this, I bought you "big girl" long sleeve jammies. One has butterflies, and another sports a cat with sunglasses. You love your new jammies and we no longer get woken up in the middle of the night due to a pajama malfunction. So we love your new jammies, too!

Parker: You have started calling me "Matt". Yes, let me repeat that... you call me "Matt". I find myself reminding you often lately that I am not Matt... I am Mama! You love to jump. It is (besides running) your primary means of getting to point B from point A when you are excited. It is also how you dance--- by squatting and jumping up and down in circles.

You adore the color red. And you consider everything in the house that is red in color to be YOURS. You have a red shirt with a firetruck on it that is by far your favorite shirt. I even bought you two other red shirts to no avail. Every morning you ask to wear your "firetruck shirt". And I let you wear it whenever it is clean... which means you wear it every other day:).

All of the sudden (and I do mean ALL OF THE SUDDEN) you have started participating in classes. And when I say participating, I mean cleaning up the music toys (and everyone else's whether or not they are done with them), and jumping, spinning and dancing as the class moves along. I also mean that you run around giggling. But when we get around to your time to say hello, you spin around with your back to the group, drop to the floor and hide your head. A bit shy, are you?

Isaac: You love singing Itsy-Bitsy Spider. So much so that you often require that I sing it while rocking you before bedtime. You do the motions and giggle when the rain comes down (poor Itsy!). "Open Shut Them" is also a new favorite of yours. You giggle heartily and without reservation (seemingly surprised each time) when I get to the "Do not let them in!" part.

You are funny and find humor in unusual noises and anything that spins... including yourself. You love to spin. You do it with such gusto that I frequently have to move you to the center of the room in order to avoid you hitting your head on a hard surface when you crumple to the floor (as you also love to do).

You have an impressive sense of balance. I am repeatedly amazed, when at the playground, to find you successfully climbing up new and more precarious obstacles. Yesterday, I watched you carefully observe what some older kids were doing, and then, seemingly without fear, climb on top of a piece of equipment. I also came running across the playground when you attempted to drop from the second story of a play piece. After you did the same thing twice more, I switched tactics and attempted to teach you how to drop down safely. Strangely enough, though, you are terrified of sitting on the counters in the house. We usually sit you on the counter to brush your teeth, give you your medications and/or to put on your shoes. Lately you grab our shirts with a death grip, whimpering desperately until we let you down to the ground. A far cry from the adventurous one I see on the playground!

30 months.
You have been on this earth for thirty months and my(!), what changes you have brought to my life. I know that I have written this a lot, but it is (still) hard for me to believe how quickly you are growing.

You unzip and remove your own jackets.
You take off your socks.
You carry grocery bags nearly equivalent to your weight.
You try to put each other in time out.
You try to put me in time out.
You argue with each other for the privilege of closing each door we move through.
You love to color with crayons.

You sometimes speak in full sentences.
But no matter how fast you are growing or the number of tasks you master, I am still the one you run to when you have an "owie".
It appears you still need your mother.
Which makes me very happy.:)

Love,
Mom

Solo

2011-02-09T09:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I took the triplets to the library.

Solo.

And I remain disproportionately proud of myself.

Usually we (meaning Rosa and I) take the kids to library story time on Tuesday mornings. That is when I pick up and return books which I have reserved online. But yesterday morning we missed story time because Emery and I were seeing a new Pediatric Ophthalmologist for a second opinion (which I am very glad we did... we will be switching doctors) and the appointment took a full three hours.

It was during their nap that I realized that I had a book on hold at the library which would be placed back into circulation if it wasn't retrieved by the end of the day.
And, dear readers, this is a book I REALLY wanted to at least look through, if not devour.
And the title may give you an insight into my mental state two weeks ago when I reserved it.
The name, you ask?
S.creamfree Parenting.

A girl with three two-year-olds can use all the help she can get:)

ANYWAY...
I decided that in addition to a trip to the grocery store, a quick drop by the library was in order once the kids woke from their (thankfully long) nap.

I have taken the kids many places by myself.
When they are contained (i.e., stroller, wagon, shopping carts), or in a safe area away from cars (i.e., tennis courts).
But I have NEVER been brave enough to take them out in public un-contained.

Until yesterday (remember... I needed the Screamfree Parenting book!).

Despite my trepidation, all went surprisingly smoothly.
If you don't count the fight Emery and Parker had over who got to carry the book once I checked it out (luckily, I had another book in my purse so a crisis was averted) and the massive face plant Emery took while attempting to keep said book away from Parker. After a moment of consolation, Emery was back up on her feet, walking jauntily away while holding hands with Isaac. We got lots of looks and smiles from all the people watching this unfold:).

We made it.
We walked to and from the library through the parking lot and navigated the many obstacles through the library. No tantrums. No escapees. We all held someone's hand which made things much easier (I think a toddler's penchant for holding hands is a gift God gives mothers...).

Like I said, I am disproportionately proud.
Triplet mothers do this all the time.
But for this triplet mother... it was a first:)

The Number Of Stretch Marks In The Room Increased By A Factor Of Ten

2011-02-04T15:57:00.000-08:00

There is a large (relatively) triplet and quad mothers group here in our city. We meet for dinner once a month to shoot the breeze, commisserate and share ideas, problems and victories. Our children range from 2 to 9 years old.

I went for the first time when the triplets were about 9 months old.
It was hard to show up the first week knowing no one there... but it turned out to be one of the best things I have done since the kids were born. Because as I struggled through those difficult first two years, I had a group of women who REALLY understood what I was going through

I hadn't attended for four months. Due to a series of unfortunate conflicts (that, and Matt's law firm server dropped an old email address I had and I wasn't getting emails through it for over a month before I realized the problem...), I haven't seen them since September.

So I was very happy to join them last night. There were ten of us in all (two women are a lesbian couple, so we represented nine sets of triplets). We hooted and hollered. We were that loud group of women in a restaurant that annoys everyone around them:) But we had a great time. Three of us were laughing repeatedly about Dr. Perinatologist, the funny things he said (or yelled) to us and how predictable he was in his "straight talk" approach. One of them gave me some great advice to try when the kids are fighting over toys... I will be trying that out today.

We chatted up a storm.

We have very different lives but our high order multiples are quite a bond. These women are a big part of the reason I survived the first two years of my kids' lives (relatively) intact. And I was happy to report to them last night that I finally feel, now that the kids are nearly 2 1/2 years old, that I am getting back on my feet. Postpartum Depression and Anxiety are firmly in my past and I am finally feeling "normal" again. I can take the children some places by myself. I don't require a "mother's helper" at home all the time. I can even sometimes choose to do things just because I want to do them (i.e., read books).

I am a person again.

Most of them nodded in agreement and a few mentioned their kids were at least two before they also started feeling the same way.

I didn't feel so alone.

Which is kind of the point, I suppose:)

P.S. And then there is one of the younger woman (10 years younger than me), who has triplets two months older than ours. Obviously we have much to talk about every month:). She got pregnant again when our kids were 16 months old. It wasn't exactly planned, but they weren't at all upset. "I would have been having more at some time, anyway", was her reaction. Her fourth child is now a few months old and everyone is doing well. She clearly has much more energy than I:)

P.P.S. The title was written with tongue firmly planted in cheek. But stretch marks were actually a topic of discussion last night. To my utter shock, some of the women don't have a single stretch mark to show for their high-order pregnancies. I have decided the Universe requires equanimity in such things and I can report that all is right with the world... I have their stretch marks:)

What A Difference A Year Makes

2011-01-31T18:04:00.000-08:00

Matt and I have always been hikers.
About a year ago we attempted to take the kids hiking.
It was a joke.
But we did it three or four times before giving up and deciding that patience (meaning waiting a year or so...) was the better part of valor. But this last Saturday morning, Matt had some time before working on the closing for the trial, so we decided to give hiking another spin.

Wow! What a difference a year makes! Last time we barely made it a few hundred yards down the trail as we had three 18-month-olds wandering out into the desert in three different directions.

This time? Not only did they stay on the trail, but they giggled and held hands for much of the walk. They impressed me with their ability to negotiate rocky parts of the trail, and we made it well over 1/2 mile in before deciding it was time to head back to the car.

There were a few brief interludes in order to play in the dirt... and why not? There was plenty to be had.

Overall, it was a surprisingly successful foray into the world of Hiking With Toddler Multiples.

In fact, *gasp* I do believe we will be trying out another "hike" next weekend:)

Welcome To My World

2011-01-29T14:48:00.000-08:00

My husband, you may remember, has been (literally) burning the midnight oil while in trial for the last 10 days or so. Which means I have been pulling triplet duty solo for much of the last week.

And Oh, what a week it has been!

Take Wednesday evening for example...

I was sick. With a nasty sinus bug, complete with frustrating body aches for which there is no treatment except to lie in bed. Something which I was decidedly unable to do. Especially since the babysitter who I had scheduled to come help me in the afternoon (while I got rooms ready for my sister and her family coming that evening from out of town, picked up the house, and prepared a talk I was due to give on Nutrition and Heart Disease to our church's women's group the next evening) had canceled because she herself was sick.

Nice.

So after a dinner replete with kids attempting to steal food off neighboring plates, forks being run through neighboring children's hair, and more whining and crying than any human should have to endure, it was time for bath. I needed the break... and so did they.

As I helped Isaac out of the tub, my phone rang. My sister, who was due to arrive anytime... so I picked it up. As I wrapped Isaac up and dried him off, she told me they were a few minutes away. Isaac turned to go into the bedroom and, slipping on the wet floor (thank you... splashing!) hit his head on the cabinet. With a screaming child on my hands, I got off the phone with my sister. After calming Isaac down (no blood, no bumps), I ushered the other two out of the tub and wrapped them in their towels. I had Isaac laid out on the bedroom floor as I dressed him in his diaper and PJs. The other two took the opportunity to escape their room, hightailing it down the hallway with hooded towels billowing like capes behind them. Once Isaac was finished, I went to find Emery and Parker. I discovered Emery standing next to a puddle on the hallway floor, examining the contents disapprovingly. As I neared she stood and pointed to the liquid. "Mama, Parker pee-peed! He pee-peed!" Sure enough, Parker had chosen that exact moment to empty his bladder in choice fashion...in a series of puddles stretching the length of the hall.

Nice.

I then embarked on the decidedly unadult-like chase of two naked two-year olds as they ran giggling in two different directions around the house. That is when the gate called that my sister had arrived.

Nice.:)

P.S. We had a great time with my sister along with her hubby and kids. And they even brought me dinner (!) which especially on such an evening was really great. My talk went well and I am happy to report I am feeling much better. We survived the last 8 days... but win or lose, all of us will be very happy when Matt's trial ends this next week!!!!

Ugh! And It Starts Already...

2011-01-25T16:15:00.000-08:00

I am not a My-Kid-Must-Go-To-The-Best-Preschool-In-The-City-Or-Their-Life-Will-Be-Ruined kind of mom. I roll my eyes (at least internally) when hearing women frantically discuss the importance of where their kids go to kindergarten.

Because, in case you weren't aware, going to different schools for kindergarten and first grade means you will be totally out of the loop and your child (and you) will be isolated, unhappy, depressed and forever an outcast.

(And they are serious... that is the scariest part to me...)

Our children will be starting preschool in the Fall. Not because I believe preschool is a Necessity and is a Requirement For A Productive Life. No, simply because I think they need some structure and could use some good socialization. You know, the kid of socialization that goes beyond their womb-mates. And because I would like to keep my part-time easy-peasy job (about 8 hours a week) for when the kids are in school full-time, but I don't want to have lots of hired help next year. By having the kids in preschool three days a week, I will have a schedule flexible enough for work, but I still have the kids to myself the majority of the week.

I have, over the last three months, toured five different preschools, ranging from a home-based program with five children to the preschool at the most expensive college-prep school in our city. Matt was clear from the beginning where he wanted our kids to go next year, but I wanted to see what was available. We made our choice (Matt's choice, which I was fine with... middle of the road price-wise with a really fabulous reputation), and I had the applications ready in order to turn them in on the 27th-- the day open enrollment starts because I was aware their classes fill quickly.

So I was quite surprised when someone from our school-of-choice called me late this morning to remind me that open enrollment started yesterday, and their classes were filling up quickly. If I am interested, she said, I should get my applications in ASAP.

I plead Busy-Mom-of-Triplet-Toddlers.
I plead My-Husband-Is-In-Trial-And-I-Have-Been-Pulling-Double-Duty.
I plead negligence for never bothering to confirm if I had the right day in my head.

So when I went to turn in their applications this afternoon, the nice preschool lady asked me what my second choice of schedule would be. Holding aloft a VERY fat stack of applications, she said that the class I was interested in was already half-full from families who have older kids at the school (and therefore were able to turn in applications before open enrollment). And she was aware that at least a few of the plethora of applications in the pile she was holding were for the class we wanted. If it was full, which other option would we prefer?

Full?
Open enrollment started 24 hours ago!

I know it may sound a bit naive, but although I knew one had to be on their toes to get a place at this preschool, I am surprised at how competitive signing up for preschool can be. I mean, this isn't NYC. I thought I was a bit on the neurotic side... but apparently I need to ratchet up my game:)

It won't be the end of the world if we have to take a different schedule. It would just mean going two days instead of three (my other option would be to send them five days a week, and that won't be happening), which would just mean I may need some regular part-time help with the kids if I am to keep my job. We will work it out.

I learned my lesson... from now on, I will be one of those mothers who camps out overnight to get their kids onto a particular sports team or onto a particular year-round school track schedule.

Hmmm... must.get.tent.ready.for.kindergarten.enrollment:)

Next Thing You Know I Will Be Tossing Them The Car Keys...

2011-01-23T17:27:00.000-08:00

This last week I had the kids on my own late in the day more than usual.
And I had them on my own this weekend.

Matt has a trial starting tomorrow which means he is working long hours and will be doing so until the trial is over.

But I learned a few important things this weekend...
The kids are growing up.
They follow directions with some regularity.
They are easier to manage when out in public.
And they can play for short periods of time at the house without me.
*Not that I don't have to be constantly aware where all three of them are. A few days ago it occurred to me that I hadn't heard from Isaac for several minutes and I found him on top of the dining room table. Having bested our bungee-cord-the-chairs-together obstacle, he was standing upright, pulling fake cranberries out of my centerpiece:)

This morning, as I watched them play without me, it occurred to me that are kids are getting older. They are becoming more independent and capable. I can take them a few choice places to play... by myself. Which is a big deal because up until this point I haven't had the courage to take them anywhere and let them run around unconfined. And although I don't yet have it in me to brave a full-on playground solo with the triplets (it is hard to supervise the three with a bunch of other kids running around), I continue to grow in confidence.

Which I love.

Because it makes me feel like a "normal" mom:).

P.S. For some reason, it is when I am the busiest (this weekend was crazy, but this coming week will be even crazier), that I am struck with the urge to try new recipes. So I ground my own wheat and tried out a new Honey Oat Bran Bread recipe while the kids were playing the other afternoon.

It totally turned out.
On the first try.
Totally.
And no one was more surprised than I:).

The kids loved it so much they inhaled a full extra-large loaf in 24 hours (OK, with a little help from Matt and me as I made it into french toast for breakfast this morning:).) So this afternoon I made a double batch of the bread so I have some loaves in the freezer.

Makes me feel so domestic:)

Ratcheting Up The Freak Factor

2011-01-18T09:46:00.000-08:00

Prepare yourself for a wee infertility rant... I am aware this article isn't important, but I could use a rant today... proceed at your own risk:)

*clearing throat*

Per the Oxford English Dictionary...

TRIPLET (tri-plet)

Pronounciation: /'triplet/ noun

1 (usually triplets) one of three children or animals born at the same birth. **

and....

TWIN (twin)

Pronounciation: /twin/noun

1 one of two children born at the same birth. **

Myths about IVF are abundant.
I have been confronted by many myself.
And many make us... or our children sound a bit freakish.

For example: IVF children are not "natural", that IVF works every time (ummmmm... have you seen my history?), if you conceive through IVF you are not genetically related to the child (Huh? The VAST MAJORITY of cycles are done without donors), that IVF babies have long-term sequelae (there is approximately at 0.5% increase in birth defects), and of course, that if you do IVF you will end up like o.ctomom (ok, I am aware I am not the best person to be debunking this myth since I was carrying quints before I miscarried twins... but studies are clear that when compared to clomid and IUI, IVF has a significantly lower multiples risk... 0.8% of cycles in one European study resulted in triplets.)

But lately, an article came out that set the IVF Education cause back about a decade (well, it would, that is, if it came from a reputable source by someone with a knowledge base).
Yes, apparently the new myth d'Jour is that children born from frozen embryos retrieved in the same IVF cycle are twins/triplets/quads, even when born years apart.

From the UK's D.aily M.ail (basically a tabloid newspaper), and plastered all over the internet (including on sites like O.ddity Central), we have this little nugget of infertility ignorance and irresponsible sensationalist journalism. In case you don't want to use the link (which is probably a good idea-- more page views would just encourage them...) they are getting all excited and calling three girls born 11 years apart "triplets" because they resulted from three embryos retrieved during the same IVF cycle. Twins were born 11 years ago, and a sister resulted from a frozen cycle done last year.

From the article... "It's hardly surprising that Ryleigh Shepherd is the image of her 11-year-old twin sisters when they were babies. For despite being born in different centuries, the three were all conceived on the same day."

Ummm. Huh?

Oooooohhhhh, I see. Whether or not you look like a sibling has to do with how close together your conception date is. Oh, now I understand! Silly me, and here I was thinking it had to do with DNA.

Stop me here if I am heading off the proverbial cliff... but fraternal twins are conceived on the same day and often look NOTHING ALIKE. My brother and sister are a case in point. We call them fraternal twins because they were gestated together. They are no more alike genetically than other siblings (half their genetic code from each parent in that great game of roulette). What does day of conception have to do with looking like a sibling? You are killing me here, people. The children in this article aren't identical twins/triplets. Such dividing occurs well after embryos implant into the uterine lining (whether or not IVF assistance is used). They are no more identical than normal siblings.

Maybe I am missing something (don't worry.... I'm not, but I am sure enjoying this rant...), but doesn't this happen EVERY DAY?

I mean seriously. This is 2010.

You can hardly walk through a PTA meeting without tripping over a woman who conceived her child/children through IVF.

Apparently, despite all dictionary definitions to the contrary, these people believe that "twinhood" or "triplethood" is determined by conception, not gestation (in reality, they are just ignorant, and the sensational sells papers...). Now, those of you not versed in IVF will have to understand that there are many women (I didn't fall into this category *snort*) who are able to do only one cycle of IVF and have many frozen embryos left over. As a result, they are able to do a few extra frozen cycles, and end up with 3 of 4 children born years apart. It happens all the time. But those are not triplets or quadruplets. Those are siblings.

I find the discussion interesting in an "amazing what modern science can do!" sort of a way, but who would actually call these children twins or triplets? I find the use of such terms grossly misleading and confusing, especially to those who know little about fertility treatments.

Just to make it more interesting, if conception becomes the determining factor for multiples... what about my kids? All of the embryos from three cycles were frozen together. We have no way of knowing from which cycles our four blastocysts came. But it is very likely they came from at least two (possibly three) different cycles, meaning that they have different conception dates. But they were gestated together... which, according to most sources, would make them triplets.

Unless, that is, you ask the D.aily M.ail:)

P.S. Phew, that sure felt good:)
**P.P.S. The exception I see is those cases where a woman, gestating multiples, gives birth to those children on different days (such things happen in extenuating medical circumstances). I still consider those children twins/triplets, etc because they were gestated together despite different birth dates.

Tennis, Anyone?

2011-01-17T15:24:00.000-08:00

Our ward has moved to 1pm block on Sunday.
Anyone with toddlers knows this is painful, at best.
And when there are only two of us... and three of them, painful only begins to describe the experience.

So Matt and I have been working really hard to "run the kids" on Sunday mornings and then put them down for (with any luck!) a nap before running off (invariably VERY late) to Sacrament Meeting. Yesterday we took them down to some tennis courts about a 30 minute walk from our house. There is a grassy area next to the courts and since it is in our only-half-finished development, there isn't much traffic. We take the wagon down and then let them run and jump as much as possible for an hour or two.

You may notice that Emery doesn't have her glasses on. She KO'd her previous pair with some finality. Even tape doesn't keep the glasses in one piece for longer than a few hours. Her new pair arrived today. We'll see how long this one lasts...:)

But you may also notice that both of the boys are wearing sunglasses. They wouldn't take them off for anything! Not even some begging from their mother that no good pics will result with funky sunglasses in place:)

Scary Thomas

2011-01-14T14:56:00.000-08:00

For months, Parker and Isaac have been enthralled with trains. They have a T.homas the T.rain track set (for which Santa brought them an extension kit) and a multitude of trains (I kept buying more because there were so many fights between the three kids). Parker in particular is a big fan. And lately, when he summons (hand outstretched in a beckoning gesture while saying, "Come on, Mommy"), it is usually to the area where we keep the trains.

Several months ago, I got them a T.homas video. I thought they would be interested since they loved the trains. We tried it out on our 17 hour road trip up to my parents' house. Not a single one of them was interested.

But with the constant and passionate interest Parker has had in the trains of late, we broke out the video again last night. Matt was getting Emery ready for bed and I was giving Isaac his medication. I was in the kitchen and not really paying attention until I found Parker wrapped around one of my legs peering fearfully around the island at the video. He was whining, which turned into a full-fledged fearful cry when I picked him up and walked towards T.homas on the big screen.

I couldn't figure out what was wrong.

He was shaking.
He was petrified...
Of T.homas.

"Are you serious?", I thought.
But he sure was.
He kept his hands and/or bear over his eyes the entire time Matt changed him into his PJs. No peeking or anything.

We turned the video off.

But I must say, I am perplexed.
How can one so obsessed with T.homas trains be so mortally afraid of T.homas videos????:)
The video will be shelved for a very long time... but Parker was back at the trains this morning.

Is it bad that I find this very endearing?:)