Yes, Sira!

Ethiograndma you are right, my readers are indeed astute and that darling boy with the toothy grin and wet collar in the post below is indeed little sweet Sira! (The other cute boy in the high chair was handsome Bereket, just in case you were wondering.) At least (most of) my readers posses a little confidence to assert themselves and say, I do believe that one is Sira and that one is Bereket! (It's OK if you got it wrong, even mama & papa do it.) Poor dears usually get a weeny-armed greeting and a little stammering before they get a decent hello . . . Hmmmmm, well let's see, this one is . . . hmmmm, now which one has the ear piercing again and which ear was it? To tell you the truth, Tsega cannot tell Bereket apart from Sira either. I like to quiz him now and then and see what he does, hug Sira, give the binky to Bereket, hold Sira's hand. What he does is, he goes to the nearest brother rather than the named brother.

Maybe this is why so many are naturally smitten by Tsega. People greet mega-Tsega with gusto in part, because they are confident who he is. Wouldn't that be wierd to go through life expecting people to not recognize you? Let me say though, the triplet social dynamics are, as I suspected they would and will again, changing. Lately Tsega is less about flashing his million dollar smile to everybody who looks at him, probably because he is so busy exploring every molecule of life and material. Of course Tsega will have no trouble walking up to you and sign and beg for more, more, if he indeed needs more food and you have some. Bereket's social butterflies are again expanding their wings and Sira's are right there with him so that these days stranger anxiety amounts to, at most, sweet coy smiles that get buried into mama's chest or leg at the approach of strangers (vs. the mad I Hate You stares they used to dart at less familiar faces).

Ethiograndma (aka, My Mom, the lady who sometimes comments on this blog) happens to be here for a visit, BTW, and we made picking her up from the KC airport into a weekend of fun in the city. In honor of our mini vacation and her visit, I decided to post some helpful tidbits and random observations I discovered along the way during last weekend's trip or the weeks just prior:

* I'm surprised to have discovered feelings of relief welling inside of me when the boys are outside and they diverge into distinct and separate playing zones; zones that wave peace flags; zones, sadly enough, with fast-dissolving borders.

* Don't dine three two-year olds in Italian Restaurants. The crowds fill up fast, the food may come ever so slowly, and bread rolls are not interesting enough to satisfy three unhinged toddlers (and yet they fill up on the stuff before their supposed-to-be time consuming and behavior modifying food arrives). Mexican is always safe and fun since there's something interesting to satisfy toddler taste buds the second you arrive up until the moment you leave (leave in a wheelbarrow, that is).

* Don't dine in halls with great acoustics. I knew if Tsega's lungs ever found the right amplifier in public, we'd be in trouble (we were). It's cute when it's my kid, but I never found another kid's monotonous screech flattering, so it's hard not to get nervous about it.

* When he's tired, don't sit Bereket next to anybody in the car or stroller if you can help it.

* I dare you to break our hotel record for most times a toilet has flushed in one weekend.

* At least one of the three is discovering the art of potty control and now every time a diaper is removed, a very controlled, managed flow starts flowing (if you cover it up, it stops, if you uncover it, it starts again . . . ).

* Even when three adults are supervising, make sure you, as the mom, keep all two of your eyes on constant look out for three little bodies. I'll never forget turning around at very familiar sounds on a busy city street and seeing little Sira happily toddling along and getting further behind just as he was about to be left. *Shutter*

* Bring pack n plays when overnighting in hotels not for sleeping, but for baby proofing. Simply push up against the set of drawers and microwave table that baby cannot keep his hands out of.

* Have fast mobile baby drag a suitcase up and down the halls to entertain, exercise, and slow him down when he needs to run halls.

* It doesn't matter where you take your toddler. If you can keep moving he will be highly entertained and every place new and old, there is great adventure for you and toddler.

* Don't even think about bringing Tsega on a long flight. I haven't done it since he was 5 months old, but judging from his recent public behavior, which is busy and stimulated to say the least, I guarantee you will be pulling out the benadryl, popping a few, administering a few, and then handing them out to fellow passengers. And you might become one of those passengers who gets flights grounded.

* Hair is not usually funny. Funky yes, but not funny. Don't tell me my child's hair cracks you up, even if you are usually very nice. And don't ask me if I'm able to figure out how to take care of African hair because then I feel bad when three proofs are standing right there (if you have to ask, then maybe the answer is no!). I think, however, that it is OK if you are nine and think that Tsega's hair has super powers.

* My kids look Ethiopian. Ethiopians will stop us to ask about our boys because, they say, they recognize their Ethiopian features. How cool is that? Because no matter what physical bonds were broken, my kids will forever retain (and pass on) their Ethiopian roots through their indestructible and ancient polymers of DNA.

* A lady at work was wondering if my boys came to the USA with cultural mannerisms endemic to Ethiopia (then quickly shook her head no after realizing at 5 months old no baby possesses cultural qualities). But then after thinking a moment I said, but somehow my kids, compared to other toddlers, seem different; unique. She nodded yes, they indeed do, and that's why she thought to ask. So now I'm wondering, what makes my kids unique. Forget that they were adopted by white Americans and are triplets--I mean some other quality that they share is strikingly special and perhaps I'm being silly, but I think others sense it too. What is shaping this quality?

* Has anybody else been noticing how handsome my boys are becoming? I tangoed Bereket the other day and while in the dipping position (him on bottom, of course) I looked down at him and I swear I heard angels sing and saw celestial lights beaming from his eyes. As my mom pointed out, they got over their awkward pre-toddler/post-baby stage very well.

Identical: Who's Who?

Attention readers, a quiz follows this monologue. Skip down if you prefer to scan pictures, try the quiz, and fake read the rest. I understand.

I realize I often fail to provide identifiers when posting pictures of my matching pair. I wonder if you, dear readers, ever get annoyed at me for that (tell me if you do). And in case you're wondering, I only have about two pictures in which I cannot tell Bereket apart from Sira (see first picture on Then and Now post--who's who, I cannot tell). Something about pictures brings their differences out, at least in my eyes (or maybe I always remember what they wore on a given day--nah). I admit I visit a blog or two starring identical twins, and I'm not sure it matters to me who is who. Hard to shake the 'two is the same as one' concept with monozygotic twins, even when you have your own pair (I don't think of mine this way, just other pairs--maybe, I dunno, I haven't thought about it so hard).

For newbie readers who are still scratching their heads, the fraternal triplet--the bigger one with all the hair--is Tsega. It blows my mind to think what if there were two identical Tsegas? Wow and yikes! :)

Bereket and Sira are identical. You can have your opinion since we don't have the DNA fingerprints to prove it, but it's clear to me and Jerry that they are indeed identical (first blogged about HERE). Especially when their papa, nanny, and grandparents have a hard and guilty time of it distinguishing these two, and friends start every contact with them by first establishing which one is which. It also blows my mind to think about who came first before the fertilized egg split, Sira or Bereket?

As for me, maybe it's psychic maternal powers, but it rarely takes me much effort to tell Sira and Bereket apart, even when they're nude, merely diapered, or sporting matching outfits (although different clothes or shoes helps when viewing from the back and certainly speeds up recognition). They have very different facial expressions and hold their heads differently. Sira tends to look at things head-on, symmetrically, and smiles bigger showing more teeth. Whereas Bereket has a shyer, head-tilted way of viewing the world. Sira's face is fuller than Bereket's, he's chubbier, he hangs his mouth open (and therefore usually has a wetter collar) giving him, currently, more of a babyish look. Bereket has a wee bit more hair right now and his complexion is clearer. They do share the same gait and posture, although Sira's belly tends to protrude more, making his back appear very arched. Lately I'm better at distinguishing their cries too. Sira has taken to more of a eeeee-ya, eeeee-ya cry, while Bereket's is more guttural in pitch and without syllables. Simply put, they emit different auras. Jerry shrugs his shoulders at many of my descriptors and has a harder time with it, so psychic paternal powers he has not (this does not take away from his #1 Dad status, however . . . Hi Hon!).

It's always harder for me to describe differences in personalities, especially since they tend to take turns with opposite temperaments, though indeed they are different and yet . . . very similar.

Worded by Wikipedia, here's simple facts about twins: There are estimated to be approximately 125 million human twins and triplets in the world (roughly 1.9% of the world population), and just 10 million monozygotic [identical] twins (roughly 0.2% of the world population and 8% of all twins). The current rate in the United States is 31 twin births per 1,000 women.

And from Me: The tendency to conceive fraternal multiples (or rather the tendency to shoot off multiple eggs during ovulation) can be hereditary, whereas the tendency for fertilized eggs to split is not. This explains, in part, why rates of fraternal multiples are higher; it spreads through the population's genes. Additionally, while I don't know the numbers, fraternal twin rates in Ethiopia are much higher than in the USA or Europe, although I wouldn't say multiples are common relative to singletons.

Now for the quiz. And Ethiograndma, you better nail this one. Leave a comment and name this darling triplet featured in the three pictures below. Winners and losers win the satisfaction of my curiosity. Thanks for playing.

Three for me and none for you

Sometimes 3 is never enough (and sometimes it's way too much--just kidding!). My advice to moms of multiples/triplets: buy 3 cribs and 3 high chairs (booster chairs, while we have one, are extremely dangerous for many reasons including head bumping and tipping over, all of which has lead to minor injuries in our house--click HERE for a taste of what I mean), 3 varieties of push wagons or ride 'em cars (and 3 Tonka trucks for that matter), but as for the rest of the big baby and toddler equipment moms buy, including toys, don't buy 3 of everything. Either all of your babies will ignore it (whatever it may be), so that if you bought 3 you are now stuck with 3 pieces of junk. Or your babies will fight over the same item even though you have a duplicate in proximity of same shape and same color. My boys fight over sticks and sod for corn sake, and we have a million of those.

(If you blow up the picture below, you will see a blurb of Tsega way off in the distance.)


Actually, don't buy them any toys. They'll find plenty to play with like dining chairs, couch, dirt . . . that way they won't ask you for anything (like for the 100th swing ride of the day).

What's their last name?

For some reason, when asked this very question last weekend, it confused me and my husband for a moment. I never confuse the question when directed at me or Jerry. I can say mine faster than I can blink. Jerry too. My name is Cindy XYZ and this is my husband Jerry LMNOP. Yes, I know it's confusing, we don't share the same last name and no, I am not the wife (or daughter) of the famous Stan XYZ who works at the same organization as us (Jer and me), nor am I related to his daughter with same name who also works with us. But yes, I am indeed married to this guy who also works with us XYZ folks, but bares no resemblance to us in name. This is why the question was innocently asked of us last weekend. What last name did you give your kids seeing that you two don't share one? And yet I searched my brain for a moment for letters that we do not own, for names that would be harder for her to pronounce and remember. Names that flutter from native Amharic speakers. Oh yeah, I remember, it is LMNOP, the name of their father, we gave them Jerry's last name. Huh, how weird that their original Ethiopian last name was the one that came to our minds first . . . The fact that my boys are Ethiopian (Ethiopian!) is something I can't seem to shake from my mind because, frankly, it excites me.

My Boys, My Family

Friends, Brothers, & Sons

Beastie Triplet Boys

Triple Trouble
Excerpted from lyrics by The Beastie Boys

If You
If You
Wanna Know
Wanna Know
The real deal about the three
Well let me tell you
We're triple trouble ya'll
We're gonna bring you up to speed. . .



Moving the crowd, well that's a must
I got some words that apply to us and that's
Mesmerizing, tantalizing
Captivating, we're devastating. . .



Hey yo, BAM super nature *** ****
Cerrone on the microphone I am
Adrock a.k.a sharp cheddar
My rhymes are better
What the Helen in Troy is that?
Did I hear you say my rhymes is wack?
I'm beautiful you can't touch me
If you pick a rose, well you might just bleed. . .



We're originators you can't feign
Ignorance or pass the blame
'Nuff rhymes coming out the brain
'Nuff beats to drive you insane
'Nuff moves to make your neck crane
'Nuff skill to make the rhymes ingrain
'Nuff heat to leave you in flames
'Nuff style that you can't defame
You see I walk like Jabba The Hutt
With the style so new y'all be like what?

Then & Now

Last June

This June

Where have my chub-u-lub baldy babies gone?

Days of June

I just realized June is big holiday month for us. In the early part of the month Jerry celebrates his birth. He is now ripe and ready at 43. Then there was Father's Day. Days for fathers and mothers get lost on us. Frankly, we find them rather dull and I spend weeks worrying that I will forget, yet again, to send my parents anything or the day will slip by and I won't remember to even call. Sorry mom and dad for all those days past that I failed to honor your status in my life. But let me say thank you to Bereket, Sira, and Tsega for entitling us with life roles as Mother and Father. Thank you. Those two holidays are really about honoring you, not us, until you leave home when it does become about us again.

June also marks summer solstice and here in Kansas fireflies, cicadas, amazing and terrifying storms, and green green prairies dominant our landscape for a couple more months. We have taken two trips down to our lovely root cellar already this month. Imagine me charging through the wind to that cellar with armfuls of diaper-only babies, one clinging to a chatter box telephone. Amusing.

We were lucky to find a whole and undamaged home after returning from the second. Three homes within a 1/2 mile of us were completely destroyed by a tornado that ripped along our road. It left our yard only savaged with tree limbs.

And of course, June commemorates African American freedom. Happy Juneteenth.

In late June we celebrate the triplets entry into life. The big one-plus-one. The terribly great twos times three. Happy Birthday my triplet sons (my triplet sons, wow, it never gets old) Tsega, Bereket, & Sira. I sadly noticed yesterday that only Sira still clings to a remnant of doey baby face. It's really gone from Bereket and Tsega. Sira, hang onto it a little while longer. Let your mouth hang open and the drool run free.

By-by babies. Really heard to say by-by. I've been dreading these moments of decaying babyhood. Recently I compiled every video posted on this blog into one hard copy. After watching in chronological order by date, I realized that yes, babies are cuter than toddlers. My god, my babies were ADOR-able! Yes, toddlers, including my own, are still so very cute. And wow, was Tsega ever fat! But what really grabbed me is how the videos got funnier and funnier from one to the next. The boys are so much fun and entertaining these days compared to those past easy lazy baby days.

Happy Birthday Triplets, what more can I say?

What better birthday gifts to give two year old triplets than a home spun swing set?

We added a big kid swing for me, little neighbors, or whoever stops by and needs a swing. We want to be the fun house, the place with "chaos and creation" where kids want to play. We'll slowly add more playground equipment as time passes and judging by the video I shot, a slide may be a good starter.

About the video below. . . Sira was the genius who came up with alternative usage of the choo choo wagon and of course after his first go-around, which I didn't even think his two brothers witnessed, everybody came running up for a turn on the slide.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Mama Mama Mama Dance

This dance requires three extraordinarily cute toddlers, babies, whatever you may have. It's funnier with boys, but not gender dependent. The setting is outdoors on a warm sweaty day. Sticky fingers and clothing optional, but bare chests & bare legs create better mood. Now twirl 'round and around, over and over, and repeat in unison with exaggerated enthusiasm & emphasis on the second syllable: ma-Ma!, ma-Ma!, ma-Ma!, ma-Ma! ma-Ma!. . .

Don't forget to occasionally fall down, on purpose or by accident. And watch for neighbors when you join in if you prefer to keep a low profile.

Breaking Away

Trouble, oh trouble in Tripletland. Two weekends ago I tucked in Bereket, Sira, and Tsega for a nice long afternoon slumber. Ohhh, should I sleep, clean, read, daydream under a walnut tree? Re-energize, re-organize, these are my moments to do things I cannot do while on duty. Hmmm, wait. . . not hearing the usual sounds of mattresses springing up and down, or cribs rattling; not hearing the usual chirping back n forth. Something is up. . . loud weird misplaced thumps. *Creak* I open the door a slit and my mind can't wrap around what I'm seeing. Three big babies milling around the floor (the floor??), drawers and their objects pulled to the ground. The floor, really??? Ohhhhh nooooo, they have discovered crib hopping and all at the same time (do they have to do everything together?)! I'm not prepared, I have no solutions, I cling to my containment hours, I will not give them up yet. And judging by the above photos, how long before they hop the fence?


No, Tsega is not this tall, hmmmm. . . .

*Update 1* I wrote this last week then filed it away and no more crib hopping. The boys were staying in our room while we entertained guests for a week and perhaps the novelty of exploring uncharted drawers and closets was too rich to ignore. In their nursery there is nothing to do except jump up and down on crib mattresses so perhaps containment has not fled so soon?

*Update 2* NO! I was wrong. It's back. And a certain Mr T now dives from his crib into his neighbor's crib. Not good for a tired parent or a sleepy baby (especially when bigger baby tortures sleepy baby).

No, no, crib tents would never hold these guys. They would figure out the zippers or rip their way through the mesh. I know, I know, this is not a real problem. Acquired skills are always good, I know, just let me complain. :) I have no answers and toddler beds, at this point, don't solve the problem since the biggest challenge is to keep Baby A off Baby C (and vice versa) so all babies may sleep safe and sound.

Discovered quite accidentally, by the way, and not that this will help with the above problems, bind weed slows triplets down. Yes, bindweed. Take a peek at this quickie video of the boys stumbling, unhappily, through a disturbed field of bindweed.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com