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!

Reality Check

I get a lot of these in my life and, believe it or not, I actually pray for them because I know my heart and all the pride, envy, and lack of thankfulness it holds. There's a blog I visit regularly (Multiple Baby Pileup), mostly because the writer is another triplet mom whose babies were born shortly before mine. There is a big difference, however, in that only two of her children survived. The third, sweet little Jack, died a few months later of a rare congenital disease called Mobius Syndrome.

We share similar stories until then, our age range, infertility, triplets, and a GGB pregnancy (that's Girl Girl Boy for the singleton parents) that held on for a long time. All of that ends, though, with the loss of her baby. Only she didn't "lose" him. I hate that "loss" business when we talk about death. Anyway, her grief is eloquently and honestly written and helps keep me in check when I take my 4 healthy children for granted.

I was complaining today because Lizzy is sick and we're making the 5th doctor's visit in 2 weeks. We are frequent fliers there and are recognized by the staff. We deserve our own waiting room. Because of my complaining to my husband, myself, and inadvertently to God, I checked on this mom's blog and was brought to tears and confessional prayer by her entry.

A Late Halloween Pic...

We only had a couple acceptable pictures from Halloween and this is the only one with the Big Three dressed up (together). Helping me hold are the Fabulous Fooz and Dord...notice that IV has a bib on and everyone is sans footwear? We are one class act.

Oh - and I am dressed as a princess (per AC's request). I had one Goofy look at me like I was nutso (and she didn't even know me yet) and archly comment "You must really like Halloween". My reply (said sweetly with a smile - really) was: "My 4-year-old wanted me to dress up and what sort of mother would I be to refuse something fun like that? And yes, I do like Halloween". I mean, honestly.

So Humbled

John and I bond over a couple of our/my t.v. shows most evenings while we're waiting for the dishwasher to finish (so tomorrow's bottles can be made). We were watching House Hunters last night and I was struck by how fortunate I am with what God has given us. You see, this couple had triplets and were needing more space than their current 1,100 square feet. They didn't even have room for a dining room table because there was NO dining room. Their kitchen was so small they didn't have a dishwasher, which is psycho. At one point in the crumbgobblers early months, we were making 27 bottles/day. Can you imagine washing 27 bottles by hand? Every freaking day? Plus your regular stuff?? Good Golly.

Anyway, they were looking for new houses and the one they bought was a whopping 1,800 square foot tri-level (= no storage space/basement). The 3 bedrooms are lilliputian. There is no way > 2 people could fit in the bathrooms. But there was a dishwasher in the tiny kitchen. And one would have thought they had bought a mansion.

I am such a jerk. Now, don't misunderstand that I think my house is too small. It was, but isn't after we put on the addition. With three bedrooms, though, we often voice how great it would be if we had 4 because the three girls will be sharing through those already-turbulent teen years. It's more that I take what we do have for granted.

There's nothing like a big piece of humble pie to satisfy one's hunger.

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.

Buzzkill

For about 3 minutes, I actually thought today was Friday. It is not. Le Sigh...

AC Is A Classic 4-year-old

I took the kids to Target yesterday. Oh, how I heart Target - wide aisles so the cart monkeys (someone else's term, not mine) can't tear things off the shelves, nice and bright, rational lay-out. Everything is in order, just how I like it.

Well, we were loading up outside and AC was in the big part of the cart as I put two others in their stroller. All of a sudden, she yells and points "Mom! Look at that guy!". I turn around to see a mid-20's man, , 6 feet from us so you know he heard, dressed in a black skeleton t-shirt, lots of piercings, etc. (but as clean-cut as he could be for the stereotype you may be imagining...he looked nice-ish). Fortunately he was laughing and I started laughing, too. "Yeah, look at that guy!" was my response. I mean, what was I going to say? I'm just thankful he was a good sport and I'm still laughing about it. Hmm...probably need to expose her more to people outside our mostly homogeneous bubble.

This is not uncommon for her. She has a special fascination with bald people "Where's his/her hair?" (not quietly, of course). I have an acquaintance who is divorced which has her flummoxed "why doesn't your husband mow the lawn?". The list goes on.

She doesn't get fazed by wheelchairs, though, and I think it's because my dad is in one. It's normal for her to ride around with him and she doesn't seem to notice if she sees another.

I'm actually thankful she isn't quiet about these things or isn't a starer and I never try to hush her up because they are normal questions for a child. She needs to learn that there are normal answers for these normal people. That everyone just looks different and that's how God made us. When she starts doing the "why, why, why", she always accepts the position that the world would be less interesting if everyone looked the same, and we should be excited about it.

On A Bright Note

After the complaining in my previous post (it was just a bad day - most aren't like that), I feel I should share a couple of the bright moments:

1. I had all 4 at the grocery, which honestly isn't that bad. They like to go. Anyway, IV and MG are sitting together in the cart, facing me, cuddling. I wish I had a camera, b/c he had his arm around her and she just leaned in on him most of the time. It was insanely cute until he decided he wanted to eat her head, but for 5 minutes I had visions of them when they're older, just hanging out together.

2. After one of the most horrific mornings in recent history for AC, she was a dream the rest of the day and shockingly loving towards the trips. She built a fort for them (which EL tried to eat, of course) and had all sorts of toys, books, and pillows in there. They loved it and destroyed it and she didn't care. It gives me hope.

Those moments get me through the day and remind me of how thankful I should be to have such a big, healthy family.

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.

Daylight Savings

I do not care for it.