23 Minutes

Ainsley's school starts promptly at 8:39 am

This morning she crossed the threshold of her school at 8:38 am and I consider it a minor miracle.

8:15 am is supposed to be Game Time around here (shoes on and exiting the house).

On this day, the clock hit 8:15 and...

1. Annie spit up on herself and the carpet and played in it because that's what babies do.
2. Toilet got clogged which is SO fascinating for SO many wee ones.
3. Annie then pooped.
4. We forgot Gracie hadn't gone potty yet (it'd only been 14 hours, folks).
5. Toilet still clogged b/c of other issues, so Gracie is sent somewhere else. Under protest.
6. Ainsley decided she needs to go potty, so she is sent somewhere else. Under protest.
7. Annie changed, dressed.
8. Backpack. Lunch box. Shoes. Check. Check. Check.
9. 5 kids in the car. Check. Strapped in (we have been known to forget someone). Check.

8:28 - drove away from the house

8:32 - arrived at school. Parked, unloaded the car, and made my little ducklings spit-spot it up to the door

8:38 - yell "I love you! and Have a good day!" to Ainsley as she raced onward and upward.

Mental double fist pump.

Home.

We were back for about 30 seconds when I heard Lizzy freaking. I looked over and Johnny had intentionally put a wind-up toy in her hair (which immediately became embedded). He made a second poor decision and laughed about it, which promptly landed him in some serious business.

It's all normal around here.

She Is My Child, But...

I don't know where she learned the phrase "get your brows done". I mean, she's seem me attempt to tame mine, but I'm 100% certain the girl has never heard those words cross my lips.

Ainsley occasionally plays "beauty parlor" with the triplets and her latest question to them is "Do you want to get your brows done?". First she takes a cotton ball and wipes it over each brow "to soften it up", and then she uses a Q-Tip to "shape it". A few days ago I walked into my room to see Gracie compliantly reclined on a bunch of pillows while Ainsley made her fabulous.

Where in the world?

Evidence:





The funny thing is, none of the three jerked away while she made them pretty. They just let her do it - and she had a vice grip on their little heads, too.

Mother's Day

This is late because I was over-thinking the holiday all weekend. I started this post a few times and nothing ever worked. Then, when I had given up and bagged the idea, I realized what it should be. It fits me perfectly because it doesn't have anything to do with the struggle of infertility or how much I used to dread Mother's Day (still don't love it) or how odd it is that we had to create a day to honor our mothers when, if we behave as we ought, our mothers would feel honored most of the time.

It happened one evening when, as is my routine, I checked on Ainsley before I went to sleep. I always take the books out of her bed, find her favorite "guy" (stuffed animal) to place next to her, cover her up if she looks cold, stare in awe at the precious gift I've been given, pray for her, the usual mom-stuff. I would do the same with the triplets, but the door to their room sticks and someone always stirs or wakes up if we open it after lights-out. The night will come soon, though, when they are part of the routine.

As I looked at my child, it struck me that Mother's Day is 100% not about me. It is about my mostly-precious children; the ones I pray over and have hopes for every day. These are just some of the prayers I say for them:


~ for your faith to be in your heart and your head



~ to never doubt how deeply you are loved by your family and, even more so, by God



~ to know you were made perfectly and wonderfully



And lastly, I pray for their hearts to be fierce.


May my children always stand fast.

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...

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.

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!

Christmas Tree Solution/s

Remember our quandary? Success was achieved in two phases:

Phase One: Laird Circus style (makeshift)
Phase Two: What normal family whose young'uns are too small and numerous to police (and this one was suggested by an old friend).

The First Impenetrable Fortress (only because they couldn't figure it out - encouraging because it means we can still out-fox them).



The Second and More Aesthetic Line of Defense (I'm a little disappointed. Lizzy and IV only go up and give the cage and occasional shake. I thought for sure someone would climb it.)

End Of An Era

For the last few months, the crumbgobblers were sucking dry 3x8 oz bottles/day. Every last drop is ingested and then I get all sorts of attitude when I refuse to give them more. The amount of formula we were plowing through was psycho. Gracie and Lizzy are officially on %100 milk now, however, and a couple nights ago we retired our mixin' pitcher we have used for 10 months. From the beginning, we felt it was easier to make all the formula at night and put bottles together so we could just grab out of the fridge (or "freeridgerator" as Ainsley would say).

I thought I'd add a photo of the whisk and pitcher we no longer need. At our peak, we were going through 3 1/2 cups dry formula per day (the water line is the black line at the top). It's a little crazy to think about and I hope I never, ever have to make that amount of formula at one time again.

One Year Update

I'm nearly one month late on this, but still feel the documentation is necessary. Oh, and please ignore the snotty noses in the pics.




IV:
Unless you are hungry or see your Dad or Fooz, you are our smiley boy. Heaven forbid, though, if John or the Fabulous Fooz hold someone else because Jealousy is not cute. You are freakishly strong and flexible, requiring me to hold you down with crazy wrestling moves while changing your diaper or dressing you. You are the best at going boneless and turning into spaghetti when you're being carried off to an undesirable location. We're getting tired of the spitting-up and can't wait until we can let you on the furniture. I love your big, brown eyes and your bigger smile. You wish you could be held 24/7. You don't know a stranger. Sometimes when you're quiet I can tell what sort of person you'll be when you grow up and I know you will be kind.

Here are the things you find hilarious:

• the word "No"
• climbing into baskets of clean laundry (then spitting up in it - ewww)
• dropping food (peas, specifically) off the side of your booster chair)
• pulling your sisters' hair
• tackling your sisters and laying on top of them
• your Dad
• escaping through an accidentally-left-open gate
• crawling around nekkid (as all boys do)
• playing in your spit-up (again - ewww)
• books
  

Here are things you do NOT find hilarious:

• perceived hunger
• real hunger
  
• when your bottle is finished
• when your Dad or Fooz go away (Lawd help those of us left with you!)
  
• when Gracie steals your toys.
  
  
  

Lil' Lou-Lou (EL):
Even though you still like to bite, you're our sweetie. I worry about you sometimes because you are always way behind on your gross motor skills, but you spank the others with your fine motors. I need to let it go. You're an observer and, unless something is really wrong (hurt, hungry), you are content playing by yourself. You laugh easily and appreciate any attention you can get (because the other two tend to require more). You are mellow like jello and I am so thankful for that because I need it. You were the first to clap, play peek-a-boo, eat finger foods, and figure out a sippy cup. I love to hold you because you appreciate it so much and snuggle up.

What you love:

• books
• putting everything in your mouth - you even like to eat sand
  
• playing with AC's baby-dolls (when she isn't around, shh...)
• being tossed in the air
• being spun around
• hanging upside down (you are our surprise dare-devil)
• swimming, bath-time, anything with water
• talking to your brother when you guys wake up from naps
• hurling yourself into a pile of pillows and comforters
• going for walks (you clap and squeal most of the time)
  

What you do NOT love:

• when MG and IV steal your toys and they always do
• being given food you don't like - you really flip out
• having your bow ripped out of your hair by your siblings (which is why you don't wear one often)
• sharing my lap with a sibling (you push them off)
• people you do not know
  
  
  
  
  

MG:
Oh, MG. You crack us up all the time, even when you are being 100% naughty. I wish I could capture your facial expressions because they are indescribable. You give the appearance of independence and boldness because of your huge personality, but you're really a mama's girl and aren't very brave. You already exhibit dramatic tendencies with your crocodile tears and temper tantrums. It only takes one or two tries for you to figure something out and your sharp mind will rival your older sister's. You two will be either the very best of friends or absolutely not because you are so much alike. You are exponential in every way and we love you for it.

What you enjoy:

• stealing your siblings' toys
• performing
• chasing down your brother
• doing whatever your brother is doing
• books
• exploring
• sleeping in a pack-n-play
• your lovie

What you do NOT enjoy:

• getting dressed
• being told "no" (oh, how you "cry")
• when, heaven forbid, someone actually takes YOUR toy (D_R_A_M_A)
• when I leave the room and you notice
• having to wait for your food
• the vacuum cleaner
• some people, randomly chosen
• this list could go forever because you can be just so ridiculous, little munchie!

It's been a crazy, mixed-up year, my little crumbgobblers. On nights like tonight, when John and AC are out and you three are grade-A wigging, I think I just may lose my mind. But then, when I've calmed you down and I have all three of you snuggled in my lap, it's heaven.

When people ask me "Who gave you all those kids??", I always answer "God" and keep walking because He did. I still don't know why I've been given the opportunity to love you and take care of you, but I'm excited to find out. It's hard because sometimes I want you to stay my little wee ones and let me carry you around forever and ever, but I also can't wait to see what you're like when you grow up. I think those are normal thoughts for moms, though.

Happy 1st Birthday, sweet babies. Your dad and I desperately love you.

Mondays Are Stinky...

...on so many levels. Mondays are NEVER good and if I could pay to have a nanny I think I'd only need her that day of the week. It's stereotypical "mom"- something that drives me a little crazy.

These are the reasons today was Grade-A Stinkarific:

1. 11 nasty diapers were changed today. Sick. I feel so sorry for our trashguys.
2. IV had to change his clothes 2x b/c of spit-up. I had to change once - top and bottom. Before I could, though, I had to put all 3 to bed and it's nasty to walk around with your cold, wet clothes sticking to you.
3. All 3 of the wee ones spit up a few times today on themselves (and me). I know it was planned.
3. I'm pretty sure AC sat in her bed most of the morning until she figured out how to be pleasant (and we had friends over - what little amount of pride I had is gone).
4. MG decided to be clingy today and flipped out if I wasn't in view. (baby freak-out = big sister freak-out...big sister freak-out = IV freak-out...etc. etc.)
5. Nearly bedtime, kidlets decide they need their bottles RIGHT NOW, and AC starts doing the tee-tee dance and races into the bathroom, Of COURSE she needs help. I comply to keep someone in the family happy, all the time trying to keep EL from licking everything in the bathroom. I slam my finger in the door on the way out.
6. Sprinkled here and there are several of these delicious moments: stepping in spit-up, stepping in carrots and green beans missed during meal clean-up, IV following me around clinging to my legs and I can't peel him off b/c I'm holding MG, the crumbgobblers SERIOUSLY FIGHTING over books (not sure how to handle this one - it's like keeping 3 monkeys away from 1 banana), blah, blah, blah.

There's much more, but it's tucked in my denial file. No worries. It will all come spilling out in the therapy I imagine I'll need in a few years.

Adios, Baby Jail!

Baby Jail has been getting on my nerves the past few weeks. John disassembled the pokey today and, as with all things in Life, there are positives and negatives:

Yay! Household traffic flow is now splendidly smooth. I don't have to take the scenic route to get to the changing table whilst carrying 2 crumbgobblers.

Oh Man! I lost IV a couple times because he would wander away from the girls. Can't imagine why he wouldn't want to be with us...

Yay! MG is no longer standing on the edge of the landing, crying, because she doesn't want to crawl down the 2 stairs she just crawled up.

Oh Man! They are free. I don't know where they are.

Yay! They are free. And happier. This makes me happier = everyone in the family unit is happy.

I feel as though it's 1989 and the Berlin Wall has just come down.

Halloween With Circus Laird

I had a Plan. If everyone and everything complied with the Plan, the evening would not be psycho. Why, on earth, did I think this would happen????? Honestly. Someday I will learn I am not in control of anything.

The Plan was this: I would have all kidlets dressed, snacked, and ready to go visit the Fabulous Fooz (have I mentioned her yet??) at 4:30. We would stay until 5:00ish, then be home by 5:15. John would get off work, we would take some sickeningly cute pics, and I would feed the crumbgobblers while he started round 1 of trick-or-treating w/AC. John would then bring her home, we would put the trips to bed, and I would take AC to a few more houses since I had promised to go with her this year. Our Dalmatian (AC), 2 Ladybugs (MG and EL), and a Frog (IV) would have a great Halloween.

This is what really happened: John surprisingly got off work early, but it didn't matter. The kids didn't get in their costumes until 5:00, which meant the trio wasn't going to Fooz's house because they would want to eat and I just wasn't going to deal with the disaster of feeding them there. John took AC over, I shoved food into the three, and waited. And waited. And waited. They finally got home at 6:00ish, we dressed everyone, took mediocre-to-fair pics, and then I took the triplets over to Fooz's. In the meantime, AC's understandably fired up about going trick-or-treating so I called SuperBabysitter (yay!!!!), who came over to take Patch-the-Dalmatian to a couple houses. I get home, the three are freaking out, Patch is back and already hyped up on sugar, trick-or-treaters are lurking, and I'm throwing handfuls of candy at them. Two neighbors stop by and one is not-so-subtly trying to invite himself in to see our addition (he's talking to our contractor). I tell him 3x we're trying to get the crying kids to bed, that he can absolutely come back in 10 minutes, and he finally gives up. The trick-or-treaters are confused. Where we live, you see, kids have to tell a joke or sing a song or do SOMETHING to get a treat. It's the rules. Everyone adheres to them. Last year, SuperBabysitter's mom took candy back from a kid who told an off-color joke. It's serious business. So, the kids had no idea what to do when we had a bowl of candy sitting on the front porch, they could see us running around inside, and I'm trying to wave at them to just grab-n-go. They just stood there. I would end up opening the door, with a kid in an arm, grab a few thousand calories of kid-crack and throw them in their bags. I felt sort of bad b/c they were all prepared to tell their joke and I didn't give them a chance. I digress. We finally got the wee ones to bed (not as late as I thought) and I finally got to take AC out for the first time. Not so bad.

Next year I'll have a different Plan.

AC, before she wanted the nose wiped off and the eye patch got smeared.

UGH!!!!

I'm annoyed because:

Every_single_morning, IV and EL decide they prefer to nap only 45 minutes. Time lost is definitely NOT made up during afternoon siesta. They're up there squawking right now and it doesn't matter how long I let them do it - they don't go back to sleep. I wish I could separate them, but there isn't an inch of extra space in the house.

Not sure what to do and suggestions are welcome...

*This is not helping my potty mouth issue*

Babyjail

I had all of one person ask what Babyjail was, so here goes. In order for me to sort of have an idea of where the crumbgobblers are, we've created two zones on the first floor of our house. Zone 1 is our front room and there are two access points: a wide entry to the dining room and a second, narrower one with two steps that lead to a landing. It is perfect to play on and fall off of onto the hardwood on the other side. With AC, this wasn't that big of a deal because we taught her in an hour or so how to not go down the steps face-first and bust-up her melon. Additionally, I was with her all the time. This is obviously not possible with the three wee ones and I'm not in the mood right now to deal with them falling down on top of each other in a tangled mess of appendages, vertebrae, and noggins. They do that enough at ground level.

Anyway, we HAD two gates set up: one massive one across the wider entry and a normal one across the stairs. The stairs one was ripped off the walls by the wee ones so we have resorted to a tall barricade of whatever is on hand. They haven't climbed over it yet, but they try to wedge themselves in-between which always results in a head getting stuck and requiring extrication.

View from outside Babyjail. Usually the three youngest are all standing there, shaking the thing and crying. Today AC and John are there for moral support.

Barricade to the Stairs (from inside Baby Jail). Classy.

We're Grown-Ups

We've had a gravel driveway for 10 years and are finally pouring concrete. Hooray! The kids are fascinated with the Bobcat and the guys working on it, which means I'm happy because they stand in front of the windows for 10-15 minutes, staring.

Actually, the only reason I care is because I want a place for the kidlets to play all sorts of games: pickleball, 4-square, badminton, outdoor scooters (the kind you sit on), hockey...P.E. joy!!! I told John all I'm asking for Christmas the next few years is P.E. equipment. Another bonus is that the crumbgobblers won't be eating rocks anymore.

I'm so fired up.

A Glimpse

6:40 - The trips are in babyjail, J gets his dinner (I just finished eating w/AC).
6:41 - I am in babyjail w/all 4 kidlets.
6:42 - MG starts to seriously flip out b/c IV is smashing her fingers in the cd player. Don't ask why it's on the floor and therefore accessible.
6:43 - Still consoling MG, have to call for J b/c IV is now playing w/a lamp cord.
6:43 - EL is fortunately oblivious to the chaos.
6:43 1/4 - IV pukes near the lamp we just removed him from.
6:43 1/2 - AC is starting to get annoyed MG is still being consoled and tells me "I think she wants to get down and crawl around". Right.
6:44 - Start the final diaper change (although never guaranteed to be final).
6:45 - IV is taken away from the fireplace.
6:46 - MG is taken away from the fireplace.
6:47 - AC attempts to build a barricade around something she doesn't want the trips to get. It is promptly taken down because she used OUR barricade for the stairs. Get your own, kid.
6:47 1/2 - Poor AC has to take her precious items and go to a baby-free zone to play. On the way she sweetly brings me the trips' bottles because I'm in babyjail.
6:50 - J and I attempt to wrestle the three bears into their jams
6:51 - EL comes to life and gives J all sorts of attitude.
6:52 - J has to stop dressing EL because IV is climbing over one of the barricades in an attempt to attain freedom and to pull a lamp on top of himself.
6:53 - EL is crawling around w/the legs of her jams trailing behind her.
6:53 - I'm giving MG her bottle
6:53 1/4 - I'm also giving EL her bottle and, in spite of my efforts, MG is kicking her in the head.
6:54 - IV is in hysterics because he does NOT want to put on jams and J has to employ the Figure 8 wrestling move to hold him down.
6:54 -Still giving the girls their respective bottles, but MG is bugging the tar out of EL, who finally gives up and decides to play with toys.
6:56 - IV's jams are on and he's getting his bottle, but if he could give J the finger...he would.
6:58 - A bright moment. MG shockingly gets jams on w/out a peep. J finished getting EL's jams on and gives her the rest of her bottle.
6:59 - I take MG to bed.
7:00 - J and I take EL and IV to bed.

7:01-8:00 - We spend quality time w/AC, who has been pretty patient for the last 20 minutes.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat tomorrow night.

Super Sleuth

So I was looking at MG's arm tonight because I had noticed a red mark on it. After a second glance, it dawned on me it was a bite mark. What?? The crumbgobblers are biting each other?!?!? WHAT!?!? This totally wierds me out - it's like they're animals or something. Are they cannibals?? Are they going to get kicked out of the nursery at church or preschool because they're eating other children? ugh.


Of course I got too fired up about it and spent too much time figuring out who chomped on MG. I initially blamed IV because he thinks it's HILARIOUS to tackle his sisters, pull their hair, and slobber all over their heads (so gross). He needs a brother and I can't believe that thought dared enter my head.



Anyway, here's the lousy pic of the bite:







And here's the original suspect - notice the shiner on his left cheek from a tumble down the stairs. Very nice.




Anyway, IV was reprieved because the biter had to have: three teeth up top with two on the bottom. I briefly went CSI and considered various positions MG's arm could have been in when the bite was delivered, but the set of two marks are from small teeth (bottom set) and two of the three marks are from big teeth (the top ones). IV only has two teeth upstairs and three down leaving only...





EL???!! My sweet EL?? She seems so incapable of such an act. I know she feels terrible.

I can't think of an interesting title for this post...

I was driving somewhere today (I actually can't remember where right now - how pathetic) and had a hopeful glimpse of what the future will look like for Chez Laird: the local high school girls' cross country team was on a training run and it was a short stride to envision one (or all 4 - dare I dream?) of my kidlets joyfully bounding along with teammates every day after school.


The high school our kids will attend has a great cc tradition and, while I know I can't make any of the crumbgobblers run, I have hope that one of them will. Please, oh, please. There's something magical about watching 100+ athletes, toes on the start line, anxiously waiting for the gun. It's silent. The trees are changing colors. The temperature is in that perfect range that allows for a long-sleeved t-shirt and shorts. Sometimes it's raining and that's even better.

Anyway, I was driving and saw the 30+ members of the girls' team, all chatting to each other on their 5-mile run, having the best time together, and I hope someone else in my family gets to experience that.

Brace Yourself For Some Whining...

I'm tired of:

1. Not having time to go for a run
2. Eating the same amount of food all the time even though I'm NOT running
3. My clothes not fitting properly because I'm NOT RUNNING
4. Actually having time to run last night, but it was raining
5. Summer is ending and Darkness is arriving earlier and earlier = less opportunity to go for a run because I'm a huge chicken and afraid of the crazies who lurk the dark, even though we live in the safest city in our area and nothing would happen
6. Feeling junky and gross because I'm not running

I don't really enjoy any other form of exercise. I've been running for 23 years now and it is one of my main forms of stress relief. I get a lot of life sorted out while running (I refuse to listen to music) and it's probably one of the reasons why I've managed to stay out of therapy for so many years. I LOVE LOVE LOVE my children, but I would be a better mother if I had time to escape a bit.

*KJ - I know you'll read this and get all over my case about how I need to make more effort to get out...I'm doing my best and thanks for caring about me. :)

Road meanderings

As previously mentioned, my husband surprised me with a mini-break from life here with a trip to Nashville to visit a friend. It was wonderful and definitely helped fill my empty spiritual well which had been dry for months. I think I've tried to keep in touch with my friend, KJ, because she is the kind of person who challenges me to rethink the aspects of my life where I don't feel change is necessary. I don't feel any walls with her (I could be wrong, but that's my perception) and that isn't terribly common in my life. It isn't absent in my world here, but how often do I have time to spend, alone in conversation, with these friends?
The actual point of this post, however, is that I was forced to be alone with my thoughts for 10 hours in the car (especially when the cd player quit working on the way back. grrr...). It was awful and fabulous and has definitely helped with my attitude. Those close to me may disagree with this, but I willingly came to accept some things which had been upsetting to me these last few months. Issues that had actually hurt (this is hard to do to me) and still do, sort of. But the hurt is less because, in most cases, I haven't had time to give to others. Yes, yes, 4 kids ages 3 and under do not make giving simple, blah, blah, blah. Some people, even though they understand this, still don't really get it. They're great, but damage has been done and it's up to me to fix it. It's a long, bumpy road ahead, so pray for me as I slowly, slowly come out of the
kidlet cocoon and restart life. The story goes on.