Remember to Breathe

Too quiet always means: better get in there quick, something is up. One Wednesday morning, I could not keep up with the whirlwind of boys. Here's the quick run down:
* Lipstick smeared all over the bathroom
* Umpteen times the toilet plunger was found in a hand (one nameless child kissed it, and I'm not talking the handle end! I screamed!)
* Folded laundry dragged off the table
* Clothes dragged out of drawer
* Plate over turned at breakfast, flown across room (thought we were done with this!), 3 little boys snickering
* Gallon of milk opened and upturned onto floor
* Handfuls of rice stolen from counter top
* Countless apples and bananas grabbed from the kitchen, half eaten, squished, and discarded onto the floor.
I really must learn to stop placing things within reach. New rule for Tsega: no more Tsega hands (the grabbiest, fastest hands in the Great Plains) allowed to touch the counter tops--yeah, right.
* VHS tape with film pulled out and strung across house
* Three boys on top of diaper changing table with lids of various containers opened and tasted (aloe vera anti-itch gel is not bad for you, right?)

Need I go on? I feel like a pin ball sometimes. And yes, every door has been fitted with locks (don't worry, they can lock me out but there is always a way back in with our maze of doors) but sometimes the boys are so fast, split up (on purpose?), and outwit me. Of course it's way too easy to learn that a chair can get you into and on top of anything (notice the chair in above picture--of course a willing diaper change is always appreciated); including into a bottle of clariton located about 6 feet off the ground inside a latched cabinet. The 30 little white pills I found in Tsega's mouth on another day apparently all made it safely out and down the drain. Now I know for sure, I am one of those who do the wrong thing under crisis mode, although I did remember to call the doctor and poison control. Apparently if your baby is going to swallow pills, clariton is the way to go.

If I had three Siras and Berekets, maybe only one of the above things would have taken place. That's right, one beautiful Tsega Mega is plentiful. :)

Moon

Oh moons, we love you, in the sky, in books, and in every circle, there you are. Moon! Even the sun is you, according to Sira (our first verbal disagreement). You are my boys' first crush. You are the last thing we say good night too. And if they see you and call your name, hearts break and tears flow if I don't answer, Yes, moon! Yes, yes, there's the moon. It's the moon!!! Hello moon! Night night moon. Oh lunar baby, full and crescent, our love revolves around your light.

Nice Dreams

They love me like I was a brother
They protect me
Listen to me
They dug me my very own garden
Gave me sunshine
Made me happy
Nice dream
Nice dream
Nice dream

(If you think that you're strong enough)
Nice dream
(If you think you belong enough)
Nice dream
(If you think that you're strong enough)
Nice dream
(If you think you belong enough)
--Radio Head lyrics

If you ask me what is the single hardest part of being a mother to triplet boys, I’ll answer this: realizing that having so much means I have so much to lose. (At least you can't accuse me of taking my boys for granted, even if I do posses a flair for heightened emotion.) Sometimes I wonder, why do we build up complexity only to make ourselves so fragile?

The most profound fear and sadness overwhelm me time to time whenever I worry about one (or all) of my boys. Scary feelings I sometimes wish I wasn’t burdened with. When one crisis passes, Jerry always reassures me. Don’t worry . . . there will be something to worry about next week. We are doing great, he tells me. And so we are.

When I was younger I sometimes day dreamed that I lived an unattached life, no family, and lived exiled from society, like Jeremiah Johnson or in some cave. All by myself, with nobody to worry, and nothing to deal with except Nature and me.

A memory. A few years ago, before the triplets, I was driving west through the Colorado Mountains during a snow storm; no chains, no anti-lock brakes, no four-wheel drive; just my little economy car with balding tires, frosted windows, and me (and very little experience with snow). I entered a long mountain tunnel leaving behind a few falling snow flakes and was stunned several miles later when I exited the hole into blizzard white. Panic. Snow filled the off ramps. No exits, no turning back. Cars over turned, flipping and spinning in front of me. The only calm came from Radio Head. I played the song 'Nice Dreams' over and over . . . and over . . . until the snow eased and juniper trees dominated the landscape, meaning I had climbed down the greatest peaks into safety.

How to end this post, I'm not sure, except to show pictures of my three little junipers. They dug me my very own garden
Gave me sunshine
Made me happy
Nice dream
Nice Dreams.
(Dramatic, aren't I?)

The Two Peas

Doing that identical thing again.


Wait, come back . . .

This always gets laughs at the playground.




Bereket kept coming up to me yesterday wanting me to show him how to connect his little car to a little trailer (little like hand sized). He finally got it and seemed happy with it. Then last night I walk into the living room and he had hitched up a red plasma car behind his blue plasma car (yes, the blue one is his so hands off) as if he was trailing it. And under his blue plasma car was a little buggy car that was trailing it . And there he was riding around like this, seated in the blue plasma car. Genius!


Of course Sira wanted to copy the exact thing and started fussing over it. I asked Bereket to help him out, show him how it's done, but he only succeeded in adding to Sira's frustration. It took me about 10 minutes to get Sira to stop crying over this failure. The red plasma car simply would not stay put.


This morning everybody wanted a baby blanket wrapped tightly around as they wandered the house. The blankets kept falling off and each child grew frustrated. Finally I put Sira's blanket on the floor and told him it's better to sit on it. Of course Bereket saw this and wanted his spread out on the floor to sit on next to Sira. I put a puzzle at Bereket's feet and he immediately repositioned the puzzle so that it sat squarely between him and Sira. They pieced the puzzle together in peace.

That's all there was in 2008

Grandma torture . . .

Good by old, hello new. As 2008 rolled on by it got me thinking of other milestone farewells we bade during the last 12 months. By by cribs, sippie cups (except on the go), chair tipping, size 5 diapers (hello size 6 . . . guess adult-sized diapers are next), 90% of food and utensil throwing, toddler-proof door knobs, sleeping in past 7:15 (pitter-patter is not a bad alarm clock), and Tsega said good by to size 2T and a whole lot of hair.

I've captured the greatest moments of 2008 ala video montage style. Excuse the weirdish first song. As I thought about what is life really like with 2 year old triplets, it struck my fancy. Keep on dancing, break out the booze, and have a ball.

Happy New Year!!!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Triplets find zero uses for the Bilibo

Is this a joke? Some kind of mother sucking scam? Have I been bamboozled? I wish somebody had told me all that before I took this $27 toy seriously.

But The Bilibo received such high praise from a few blog friends out there, that I had to get it for the kidsos.

"Open ended fun!"
-Anonymous blogger #1

"Every time I think [Jane Doe] has done everything she is going to do with this one, she finds something new to do with it."
-Anonymous blogger #2

And isn't it Swedish? Of course they always do things better (except food & music) than most of the globe, so there must be ingenious weaved into every plastic fiber. There simply must be because it looks like a hunk of nothing to me (but I'm not Swedish so can't trust me).

We have had it for 2 weeks now and so far the triplets have enjoyed zero open ended uses from it. Just when I think they can't think of anything to do with it, they find another way to ignore it. Well, I guess I saw Sira sitting in it once while playing with his new barn on the floor. Then last night he nosed dived into it a couple of times. And I think I remember Tsega throwing it across the room more than once. Oh, yeah, Sira filled it with cars and then dumped them over his head about 5 times in a row the other night before I told him to stop (there's only so much our soft wood floor can handle and the plasma cars will be the end of it someday). And more than once we all played helmet head with it. But a few minutes of mild interest over the course of many weeks was not what I had in mind.

Oh well, it's kind of a cute piece of expensive junk to store little toys in. And wow, I have 2 of them. Lucky me.