Jingle Bells! Jingle Bells!

I try to have extra cash around during the holidays because the kids need to start loving to help others out, even when it might be the last little bit you have on your person. They had been fascinated by this gentleman on the way in to Sam's because he was singing carols at the top of his voice our entire way in, so they were extra-excited to donate on the way out.  And their gifting was rewarded.  Not only was he still singing, but he started handing out bells like crazy (Annie had one but declined to get in the photo) and had the kids join in on Jingle Bells.  I think Johnny would have stayed all day and the girls were beside themselves with singing their hearts out and ringing so everyone could hear.

It was about the coolest thing that's happened to them in a long time.  So Merry Christmas and Thank You, Mr. Salvation Army ringer.  You made our day.  You probably made our week.

And Because There Haven't Been Recent Pics

Here we are! My almost 5-year-old and 21 month munchies!

Ainsley after a delicious blue Popsicle.

The Boy

Miss Gracie

Lizzy Lou

Heart Check

For the last few months and at least 3x/week, Ainsley has appeared at my side of the bed between the hours of midnight and 4:00 a.m.-ish because "she can't sleep". In 4-year-old language, this means I need to come to her room and snuggle with her until her eyes close and those deeper sleep breaths start. In my confused state I always comply and usually wake up around 5:30 to stagger back to my bed for hopefully another 1/2 hour, or 45 minutes when Johnny decides to be generous and "sleep in". I will say Ainsley is not a cover-stealer, which is nice. The problem is that I had sort of gotten used to at least 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep when the triplets quit waking up during the night. It was nice.

It was becoming mildly frustrating. I need sleep to handle the following day well. It keeps me from turning into Not-Rational-Mommy during those inevitable moments when everyone is grappling over the Dora sunglasses. There are some other very 4-year-old and, let's face it, lots of 18-month-old issues going on at our house right now, and there are days when I am tempted to go back to work. Teaching teenagers is definitely easier than this.

But then something happens to remind me of why I am home with my little monkeys and today it was a song by Darius Rucker (known to my generation as Hootie). I stopped what I was doing and almost cried. I say almost because crying is just not something I do. Now, I realize this song has been out a few months and I am always, always woefully behind in the music scene (can't imagine why), but here's the link if you have a moment. And for even if you don't have a moment but the kids are sending you over the edge.


It Won't Be Like This For Long

I hope Ainsley comes in tonight to get me.

End Of Another Era

Johnny had epic spit-ups from the time he was, oh, well under the 10 lb days until he turned 14 or 15 months. He seems to have a sensitive stomach, so I was not looking forward to the switch from formula to milk. The girls adjusted just fine but IV, no way. Formula spit-up is one thing, milk spit up is straight up nasty. The smell is horrendous, so we (okay, I) kept him on formula because I just couldn't handle it. When he turned 13 months, we started putting more and more milk in his cup to see what his threshold was. I'm proud to say that, as of three days ago, Johnny takes his milk straight up.


May I never have to mix up a batch of this stuff ever again.

My Big 18-Month-Olds

It's getting easier and easier. "Easy" is relative, I know, but every month I can take deeper breaths, feel a bit more freedom, have more of those small moments when I can stand still and watch the wee ones grow. They are officially 1 and 1/2 today and I love it.

KJ - This pic was taken for you. :)

I Love...

One So Happy, One So Perplexed

So I had 2 kids urinate on my floor yesterday. How did that happen, you ask? Well, I deserved the first one. Johnny loves, Loves, LOVES to be nakie. He knows he is not allowed and as soon as he takes off his pants and diaper, he beats the feet, laughing, away from me. Anyway, it was right before lunch and they were all DYING of hunger, climbing up and hanging onto my pants, sobbing, when he decided to create toxic waste. I can't handle smelling that for 30 minutes, so a change was necessary. While I was occupied, Gracie saw her chance and was digging through the chemicals under the sink (of course I had forgotten to lock the cabinet). I wasn't in the mood for a poison victim, so Johnny was allowed for all of 1 minute to run around with only his diaper. That meant: diaper off, happy boy, happy-laughing-fountain creating boy, peeing all over the kitchen floor. Where the girls were. The girls thought urine looked fun to play with. It was lots of fun trying to clean up liquid and block 2 kiddos from splashing in it (thankfully Johnny took off to avoid clothing).

How did it happen again? After they smeared their lunch in their hair, which most babies do, they needed a bath. This is good, because baths make them happy and give us something fun to do during the long stretch between naps. I like baths. They make me happy, too. Lizzy was stripped, waiting to be put in the tub, when I noticed she was bent over, looking down at her legs, obviously concerned about whatever was happening all over the floor. Nice.

This happens to lots of parents, I know, and it has happened to me throughout the years. Gracie has peed on the carpets a few times (airing out from her frequent diaper rash). It just hadn't happened twice in one day yet. It's all good and lots of other people got to laugh about it. I actually didn't mind.

Just Wondering

Instead of eating, the kidlets seem to prefer swiping the majority of the food off their trays. However, they do like to eat the swiped food off the floor before I get it cleaned up (hence the name "crumbgobblers"). The question of the day is, should I just throw their meals directly on the floor and not bother with high chairs? It would certainly save some clean-up time...

Dear Ainsley

Your dad and I know this last year has been tough for a 4-year-old who was used to having us all to herself her first 3 years of life. While I don't believe it has been as difficult as you might, I know how hard it has been for us and therefore for you. Just to let you know, though, it will get better and someday I pray you will love your sisters and brother as much as our hearts do. They will be your friends and confidantes and, like it or not, they will always be there for you during the natural ebb and flow cycles of friends.

One of the things I have enjoyed seeing lately in your siblings is the elements of you that exist in them. Gracie has your quick mind (not that the other two are slow, they just don't demonstrate their abilities as profoundly) and personality. She is already doing tasks independently, such as putting together simple puzzles without being taught, just like you did. Your similarities in these areas are a bit scary for your dad and I because if you two join forces we are done.

Johnny does little things that remind me of you, especially at this age. He has a new behavior where is backs up to you and then plops in your lap. Small, but the first time he did it he brought back wonderful memories of my sweet girl. When he sits with you, he sinks into you with his whole body, just like you. He would be prefer to be held all day, just as you wish you still could.

Lizzy has your expressive eyes. She is the only one who has them and to be cliche', they pierce my soul. She does not look at you, but in you and the feeling is that she is soaking up every little bit. While she does not have your hair color, she has the lay of it and it just adds to the effect of how she is the one who looks most like you.

We love you my little munchie, with all we have and to the point of making our hearts ache. It is a privilege to be allowed to raise you.

Don't Worry, John.

The girls had their first lipstick experience the same time IV did. It was more of a "we did not want to exclude him from the fun" than a "let's see how hilarious it will be if we put make up on IV". That's the party line.

What I didn't notice until I really looked at the pictures was the marked difference in how the girls reacted. Lizzy, of course, tried to eat the lipstick while Gracie took it as serious business. Our suspicions of her diva-ness were confirmed.

Poor, Clueless IV

Right now he really, really loves his sisters, especially Ainsley. For some reason, he thinks she is the berries and wants to be wherever she is. Ainsley does not appreciate his admiration right now, even though I keep telling her she will need her "stinky" brother someday. We're working on the relationship.

Because he is: such a sweet little boy, has three sisters who like girly things, adores his sisters, and is wonderfully naive about the world (as all babies are), he puts up with a lot. Actually, he has no idea he is "putting up with" anything...yet. Someday I hope he will be lovingly smothered by his siblings who will bake him all the chocolate chip cookies and brownies his heart desires. Someday he will look at these pictures and laugh or cringe or beg me to burn the evidence. Not a chance, my handsome boy. Not a chance. Plus, I can practically promise there will be more.

He allowed Ainsley to dress him. She thought his "outfit" matched perfectly. I think the stripes and puppy dog print pants look wonderful.

Miss Dianne putting on his first and certainly not last round of lipstick.

He is so excited! I told him he looked so gorgeous, whereupon I was corrected by Ainsley who told me "No. Boys look handsome, girls look gorgeous". Either way...

True Story

Yesterday morning was exceptional and not in they "OH MY GOODNESS THIS WAS THE BEST!!". Fortunately for me, mornings like what will follow don't happen all that often, but if they do it is almost always on a Monday. Everyone is readjusting from the weekend of bliss with 2 adults to satisfy any ridiculous or necessary need.

The attitudes from the Big Three were not good. Fortunately, Ainsley was handling the crumbgobblers' waves of hysteria which did keep me from completely losing it. From the wee ones, it was the "I'm mad so I'll bang my head on the floor (me: here, do that on the carpet)" or "I'm going to bite my brother" or "Let's all gang up on Mommy and cling to both her legs and cry and then push each other down". Fabulous.

Then it happened. Dirty diapers are pretty common around here and I'm actually thankful they happen during awake time. If they produce, then they probably won't rise early from a nap because even they can't tolerate the smell. Anywho, it was Gracie's turn so we went through the normal diaper-changing routine. The next event was not routine. Faster than you can say "Adding to the landfill!", she grabbed the nasty thing and FLUNG IT to the side. It was open. Now, the changing table is set at an angle to a corner of the family room in order to protect a floor lamp. The majority of the contents lay on the floor behind the table, on top of a wayward sock (so THAT'S where that was!), a red Lego, and part of the base of the lamp. The rest was scattered like shrapnel in the vicinity. I sighed. My shoulders slumped. I finished putting on a clean diaper, set Gracie down, set off to get cleaning materials, trying to be thankful she didn't perform her trick on my side.

Some of the thoughts running through my head as I was cleaning it up were:
1. I can't believe I am cleaning up human feces in my home.
2. Sometimes I feel like a zookeeper. Think about it - sometimes they put baby monkeys in diapers.
3. That thought led to the next one: there used to be a gorilla at our zoo who would throw...umm...stuff at you. Even young-uns like myself would know to stand back a bit.
4. This is truly disgusting.
5. What time is it? (read: are they ready for their nap?)

But my story does not end here. That would be tolerable. You see, as I was standing up some of my hair fell forward and landed in excrement. No lie. It lay neatly across the pile and I actually did not know what to do. Both of my hands were occupied. A child was trying to climb up my back. I almost got a little teary. From the smell.

It was 8:05 and we still had 45 minutes to go before the wonderfulness that is nap time.

The rest is actually uninteresting. The crumbgobblers actually chilled out a bit and a small part of me believes it's because they knew the Mommy was one kidlet freak-out away from popping a brewski and taking a seat on the front porch swing without them.

Sigh...

After the triplets take their afternoon nap, the routine is they get to roam free throughout the upstairs (or just in our room) before snack. If they are allowed everywhere, I post sentry at the stairs and they go crazy. It isn't that difficult to keep track of them because:
1. They are so loud
2. One is usually with me
3. The other two sort of follow each other to seek out Trouble.

I had the audacity to attempt a 5 minute phone conversation today and noticed immediately after it was over that it was 1/3 less loud. Gracie was with me and I could see Lizzy's feet heading into the bathroom. With 2 accounted for (Ainsley was at a friend's house), I heard a slight whimpering. I ran into the bathroom to find IV sitting_in_the_toilet. He was upset because a foot had gotten a bit stuck in the drain thingy. Other than that, he was pleased as punch and did not want to get out. That was a feat unto itself: pulling a 24 lb kid out of a toilet, keeping two others from climbing in at the same time, and trying to strip him of his dripping potty-water jeans.

I wish I had a picture and if a camera had been handy I would have left him in there to snap some shots, but I didn't and you'll just have to imagine this beaming face sitting in a toilet:


I have been told that this is what boys do.

More Logistics

I'm completely flummoxed. There must be lots of triplet (or more) moms who take the wee ones to the playground either: by themselves, or with one other adult. I had the three at a playground this fall by myself and they scattered like dry leaves in the wind. We lasted about 30 minutes.

Last weekend John and I took all four to one of our favorite playgrounds and our friend, Fooz, came along to help. I can't imagine how it would have worked with one less non-child to keep a small body from wandering off and, right now, I don't want to try. I am a huge fan of taking kids to playgrounds and parks to run the stink off them; it makes my life so much easier when they are happy and worn out and I had Ainsley there several times/week until I was crazy-preggers with the trips.

John put it best when he said we needed a Border Collie to herd the kids when we're in an open area.

Sometimes I'm Forced To Reflect. Not Sure I Like It.

Three babies were baptized this morning at our church, which means the odds of one of them crying were pretty good. One of them did and of course no one minded because it's such a wonderful thing to watch (we're water sprinklers, by the way, no dunking or pouring). It's wonderful to say "amen" when the congregation is asked to help raise these children.

Anyway, one of the babies did not enjoy the water part and, before the morning prayer which happened immediately after the baptism, one of our pastors commented and his words made me think. I don't especially like that; it's much simpler to breezily float through life. This is gist of what he said and apologies to Ben for the attempt (can't find the paper I wrote his words on).

We are like these infants here. They have no idea what just happened, just that water was just put on their heads for apparently no reason. Sometimes it is a thunderstorm and sometimes it is a sprinkle and sometimes we cry because we don't see the blessing that is in it.

I need to see the rainy blessing more often. The days are rare when I don't feel some sprinkling of water and there are a lot of thunderstorms, and my knee-jerk reaction is usually irritability. An example: Lizzy has a huge melon. Her pediatrician wanted to rule out anything (especially since her gross motor skills are behind the others), so we had an ultrasound on her head done a couple months ago. Several frustrating/rainy things happened:
1. It is not easy to find babysitting for 3 other kids during the day
2. The visit was, of course, during naptime = crabby child.
3. They were almost an hour behind schedule and they brought us back at the time I had told my sitter I would be home.
4. Lizzy screamed the entire time.
5. We were now VERY late to a birthday party for one of Ainsley's friends who did not live close by (we ended up being there for maybe 45 minutes and she loves, loves, loves going over there. It was not easy to leave.). I was on my second round of babysitting because I couldn't bring the crumbgobblers to a birthday party.

Everything was normal. The kid just has a big head and we hope she will grow into it someday.

So I was driving home, complaining to myself and God about what a waste of time it was, why did we have to go through a crappy day, why was it raining and cold, waah, waah, waah. Rain, rain, rain on my head. Then a brick smacked me broadside. I stopped. I felt sick because I realized I was whining about how my kid, my preemie, my sweet Lizzy (the biter), is healthy. All my kids are healthy. As far as we know, we're 4 for 4 and are crazy blessed (that word is so overused; I'm almost embarrassed to use it.). I had the audacity to be angry and I felt ill and ashamed because of it.

Solo deo gloria. Forever and ever.

Christmas Pics

Since it would have been a Sisyphean effort to get the crumbgobblers + Ainsley in one picture, we didn't even try. There's already too much self-inflicted frustration during the holidays and we weren't about to add more, at least not without several happy beverages. We did attempt individual pics though, and some turned out rather well. Too bad we can't photo shop everyone in together...maybe next year.

Ainsley

IV

Lizzy

Gracie

Merry Christmas!

How 13 Month Olds Play Peek-A-Boo

It took us a bit to figure out what the girls were doing. We thought Lizzy was just tired or sad (sometimes she would even rest her head on her tray) and who knows about Gracie. The kid rarely covers her eyes during the game. If you're wondering about IV, he doesn't play. No worries, Ainsley was too cool for peek-a-boo, too.

Miss Lizzy. She would just randomly do this while they were eating...such a goofball.

Gracie. You can understand why it took a few days. It wasn't until she started flinging out her arms and occasionally getting one hand over an eye that we understood. Crazy girl.

What The Heck??

I can only presume this is a bite mark. Lizzy, you need to either knock it off or start allowing me to catch you in the act. This is ridiculous, you sweet little ol' thing.

Holiday Logistics

How are we going to keep the crumbgobblers out of the Christmas tree???

Daily Scenario (in my head):
1. Lizzy will try to eat it because she eats everything.
2. IV will attack it and try to climb it because that is what he does.
3. Gracie will stand there in wonderment then take every ornament off and run (crawl) away with it clutched in her chubby little hands.
4. Ainsley will tattle all_day_long.

Suggestions, helpful or otherwise, are welcome.

Happy Birthday Baby!!!

1. Sorry some of the kids were sick.
2. Sorry lunch/dinner wasn't fabulous (but breakfast was okay, right?)
3. Sorry your gift didn't arrive (not sure when it will).
4. Sorry we didn't get to go out two nights ago for your surprise (see #1).
5. Sorry it was a wee bit more psycho than usual in the 4:30-7:00 hour.

However...

1. Wasn't it fun to go to the Farmer's Market and play hide-n-seek w/AC in the Christmas Tree "Forest"?
2. Wasn't it fun to see AC get 100% fired up about your cake? And giving you balloons? And making sure you sat in the correct chair with your balloons?
3. Wasn't it fun to watch the Big Three taunt each other with my cell phone?
4. Wasn't it fun to follow AC's 4-year-old logic about the Christmas elf?
5. Wasn't it fun to have a day full of the chaos of our big, crazy family?

It was a good day.

I love you, birthday boy!