Breaking Ice

There must be a post-adoption line many of us families eventually cross where suddenly your insides screw up, you hide, and things like blog posts and words drop off to unknown depths before you can share them. It's not adoption ethics, inequalities, loss, racism, or the complexities of transracial relationships that are suddenly stirring and disorganizing my head (I'm not that slow), it's . . . I don't know . . . I think it's the cross over from babies to boys that's doing it. Or maybe triplet mania has hit hard. Remember, I used to scoff at this line: you sure got your hands full! OK, I admit it, we do! We do! Overwhelmed, totally.

I've also phased into the kind of adoptive mother who chills when strangers start their prying. Are they adopted, what's their story, why Ethiopia . . . ? Hey, it's not their fault, I mean what did I expect? I'm just tired hearing my answers over and over; it bores me. Anyway, I am squeezing this blog post out to break my writers block. It's either that or end it all (the blog I mean, this is not a cry for help) and although I played with the latter idea, even drafted a final post, I still need this outlet, for now, or parts of me may explode.

Gawd, that felt good.

So here is what's going on. My boys are growing up and that's a big deal! I never knew three was such a symbolic number. Yes, the three turned three one month ago. Next month they start Pre-School, four mornings a week. My unchattery bunch, who remain not speechless but behind in language, will indeed attend Head Start as I blogged before. Did I ever tell you I fought tears, big heavy tears, as I sat at an oval desk feeling cagey and circled by about a dozen hot faced HS faculty? Mama doesn't take this growing up stuff very well, it seems.

Here's the biggy: for the first time ever since my boys began as zygotes, they are to be separated. Separated into three different classrooms. I knew one day the school system would strong arm me into this. But as I heard their arguments and I heard what I was telling them, it was clear. Imagine, tripletism can be bad for your brain. For example, one builds blocks, another knocks them down, and three are off wrestling. Great for the body and character, but that big old brain needs more singleton-like exercise.

Sentimentalism, that's all I suffer from. Growing up, starting school (with a school bus and everything!), separate classrooms, speech delays, it's all still a big party to them. And 3 three year olds definitely makes a party. Everyday. :)