Jan 10, 2008

Perfect Days

Oh, it’s such a Perfect Day everyday at our house, just like Lou Reed sings (one of my absolute favorite songs); OK, maybe his song was about love, or the beginnings of fresh love was my feeling, but the way he sings it stimulates all those perfect less-than-wakeful moments from my mind that are made up of feelings and sensations rather than details and events. Fantasies. And so it is fantasy that as a mother of triplets (or as a former non-mother, for that matter) I’m laid back, patient, and chilled, but I thank you for your compliments, dear dear readers. I do try for all these things, and maybe we do indeed have our hands full as millions repeatedly tell us, although I still get a funny look on my face when I get the, oh it must be so awful, so glad it’s not me-related comments, since, honestly, I feel like I'm disappointing by not really relating horror stories. (At these times I’m usually thinking, do you know how lucky we are to have one child, let alone triplets!?) Rough days or moments happen, they do indeed, but it’s the perfect moments that matter and we have our hands full of these.

Clinginess, fights, biting, crankiness, sleepless nights, tantrums, willfulness, we get it all, but not usually x3 in a single moment. But man, we get that too! But why complain or fight it? We knew these days would come. Yeah, sometimes I lose it just a little, need a time-out, get that ugly mean-mama grimace, wanna scream, but I expected that too. But maybe you’re right about me, because things like laundry and ripped furniture aren’t the things to worry about. Unless my child is facing illness or otherwise serious problems, I can’t complain, I can only be grateful that my boys have adventure, mobility, and imagination; that they have each other and we have them.

I think sometimes being a triplet is more stressful than parenting triplets. How unfair that one brother never experiences undivided attention since the moment of conception. It perhaps hits Bereket the hardest who really hates sharing and wishes everybody would leave his car alone. If it gets bad and he really can't take it, he stays swaddled in my sling, sometimes grasping a meaningless object, just to claim something as his very own. He doesn’t like being trampled on so much either, so I’m happy to see the boys wrestling Tsega to the ground and taking horsey rides on him, not Bereket, because the big guy can take it. Hopefully soon I’ll catch their conga line dance on video as well.

I'll remind myself of this post and the perfect days next time that grimace shows up. . . like when we're cuddling before bed reading books, when the boys mimic animal sounds, sing, and dance; when they hug each other or give us a kiss, and when they're making each other laugh, playing happily together, or tickling each other's feet; when they're copying each other, inventing new games, running round the house, or finding new ways to unite and solve challenges. . .

Tickle, tickle, tickle.

They hug books to sleep rather than stuffed animals.


Ring the bell.

Fun house.

Jan 9, 2008


I gotta leave the room sometime, otherwise the food on the kitchen floor dries to a hard, flat, colorful spot (this spot is covering more surface area everyday) and I'm getting a little tired of my little helpers pushing chairs up to the sink to do dishes (they knock each other down and eat dish soap). Not to mention the broom fights; yes, they love their brooms, but the big broom and swifter are too good to resist and I think Tsega could do the floors all day long if Bereket and Sira would allow him (translation, not bite his hands to let go). And every now and then somebody out there calls me (Miss Popularity, ha!) and I can't hear anybody on the phone; lots of "yeah", "ho-ho!", "mmm-hmmm"s coming from my end, because truth is, I can't hear you and get tired of saying "WHAT?".

I almost got a kiddie corral ages ago, but I don't think they would have stood for that. Anyway, our entire living & dining rooms are closed off from the rest of the house and there's nothing in there that can hurt them (except each other), but they are finding more ways to hurt the house. Like all the scratches, dents, and scuffs on the wood floor (oh, that hurts!). And the trim they tore off the couch and one chair. And the furniture rearranging; they seem to prefer the couch and chairs in the middle of the room. And the chair tipping which at times turns to chair rolling.

And why did I leave the laundry just sitting there within arms reach? So they can play dress up, of course. This also explains the big t-shirt on Sira in the above photo. Even boys love dress up (awwww!).

And then there's the climbing into the VCR cabinet.

Back to dress up. I caught them on a very short video playing with laundry, but poor Bereket added a dampening crying sound-effect to the video; I assure you his sadness was trivial, either because Tsega took the clothes he wanted to dress up in or because I wouldn't give him my camera. But any crying is a little heart breaking to a mama's ears, is it not?

Jan 8, 2008

That's all there was in 2008

Grandma torture . . .

Good by old, hello new. The departure of 2008 reminds me of other milestone farewells we bade during the last 12 months. By by cribs, sippie cups (except cars), the 20-something months, chair tipping, a lot of snaps, 90% of food and utensil throwing, bath hating, size 5 diapers (hello size 6 and hoping the next move we make is not onto adult-sized diapers), restaurants, toddler-proof door knobs, sleeping in past 7:15 (pitter patter and bed cuddles is not a bad alarm clock), and T said good by to size 2T and a whole lot of hair.

In honor of the great year that just past, ala video montage style, I've highlighted the greatest moments in the life with triplets from the last 12 months. Excuse the weird first song (old Peggy Lee redone by Chaka Khan), it struck my fancy as I thought of what life is really like triplets. Keep dancing, break out the booze, and have a ball.

Happy New Year!!!