Summer Break Chronicles

A series on life with 5 year old triplet boys for the next 70+ loooong days of summer break.....



In an effort to keep a bit of order around here and to promote the idea that we all work together for the good of the whole (family), the boys have summer chores. There are 9 different tasks that I made little laminated cards for, using clip art as well as words, and they each randomly choose 3 cards per week for their chores (in theory, to keep them from getting too bored with the same tasks). The novelty of it has them very excited and all the jobs are much loved (so far) - especially the "bathroom cleaner" since I made a special bucket complete with gloves for this job. Anyway, to the point of the story...this morning as C was helping me move laundry from the washer to the dryer, a quarter fell out onto the floor. I explained that a benefit of being the "laundry helper" is that when you find money in the laundry, it is yours to keep. This made him very happy! A little while later, as I was busy with chores of my own, C excitedly ran to get a piece of paper and told me that his quarter was a "special writing quarter". He proceeded to show me that pressing and dragging the side of the coin on the paper produced a gray line. I made the appropriate oohs and ahs about his "special quarter" when he let this slip - "it even works on walls". When I asked if he had tried it on the walls, he realized his slip of the tongue and timidly replied "by accident". When I asked him which walls he had "accidentally" discovered the magic of his quarter on he said he could not remember and quickly removed himself from the conversation. I have not yet discovered the scene of the crime...

Yummy Fun

C, making whole wheat tortillas

Dinner Talk and More

C: Mom, why is Jake [our very old dog] dying?
Me: Jake is very old and his body is tired. One day his body will stop working and then he will die.
C: What if his body stops working while we're taking a shower?
Me: I don't think that will happen but I really do not know when he'll die. He might go to sleep one night and not wake up or he might get very sick and we'll have to take him to the doctor and he might die there...
C: Another [dinner] roll please.

What kind of transition is that?!?!

This is the nature of all our conversations these days. Very serious questions, me trying to be as honest as possible while still age appropriate, them moving on to something completely insignificant and unrelated...it's kind of funny and a little un-nerving too :)

Also, God really is the maker of all things as noted by H in this recent exchange in the car:

B: Why does green mean go and red mean stop?
Me: I don't know but we always stop for red and go for green
B: And slow down for yellow
Me: Yes, we slow down for yellow
H: Well, God made it like that! (this was said in a tone that implied - DUH, Don't you guys know anything?)

Monday Memory

As we prepare for this year's March for Babies (formerly WalkAmerica), I've been recalling the early weeks of our boys' lives. Much like their birthday, this time leading up to the walk and the realization of the incredible gift we have been given causes me reflect on where we've been, what we've been through to get where we are today. In an effort to document some of these thoughts and memories, post more regularly, and to share the commitment we have made by choosing to support the March of Dimes by walking each year, I am going to start having "Monday Memory". While looking at some pictures from our NICU days this morning, I was overwhelmed by the raw emotion I still experience when I see their tiny little bodies, covered with tubes for nourishing, medicating, breathing, in plastic boxes (isolettes). I took a lot of close ups then so it is hard to tell how small and fragile they really were. There are a few [pictures] though with my or Kelly's hand, a regular sized (small) Ty Beanie Baby or some other normal sized thing in the picture as well and the perspective from those is shocking - and I was there - but it still is incredible for me to see. I think because I am so far removed from it now that is is kind of surreal to look at these crazy, healthy, wild, smart and unique 4 year old boys and know that they are lucky, blessed, to be alive at all.

C, our smallest and least stable baby (his NICU experience was filled with peaks and valleys, a roller coaster of good and bad days without any indication how things would ultimately turn for him) is the most amazing, determined, silly, sweet and stubborn little boy I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have never articulated this to anyone, but there was a day that I went to see him - the morning after we'd received a midnight call telling us he was being moved back to Intensive Care from a less critical nursery - when I looked at my tiny baby and my heart was gripped with fear, pain and completely breaking because for the first time in the 4 weeks since the boys had been born, I did not know if we would bring them all home. It was the first (and only, I think) time I broke down - I mean really lost it - in the NICU. This was compounded by the fact that the nurse caring for him that day was the only one (out of many to whom I owe so much for their exceptional care of our boys) who I had previously felt was inattentive, distracted, patronizing (to Kelly and I) and - I realize this is harsh, but it was how I felt at the time - incompetent. Here was this baby of mine, desperately wanted and loved, whose life was literally hanging in the balance. There was not one thing I could do to protect him, to fix him, to save him. It was my worst day. I'd like to say that I felt comforted by the love and support of our families, by the prayers from all over the world for our boys, but at that moment, I had never felt so alone and unsure of what to do. There was nothing I could do. So that is what I did. Nothing. Nothing but sit and wait, next to the baby I could no longer hold because he was again full of tubes, and pray and hope and plead and beg for mercy and wait some more. If you've been to our blog before, you know that he [C] did come home with us and is our craziest punk of the bunch. There are lots of pictures of him as he is today (cute, huh?). Here are a few from his first days. We've come a long way Baby...

shenanigans

If you cannot tell by the photo, the string to this balloon (which is weighted) is through the inside of the 2nd story foyer chandelier. C will not stop saying Mommy, peeeeze, I want my buh-yoon back right now! Not happenin'!!!

Cutie

With the exception of the dog hair protruding from his lip, I love this picture of C...

Scrappy

Just a follow up on Cs injury yesterday morning, it has become a source of great pride for him today. He's been asked a few times what happened to his nose (which is crazy bruised and swollen) and he has recited his version of the story with increasing gusto It seems to get a little more embellished each time. He even has hand gestures to show how his car "fyipped me over on da roof"...this makes could have been very serious injury number bazillion for C - none of which have any deterrent effect on his continued insanity. H wants to know if we can do it again today "if C wears his helmet this time"...hmm, let me see - NO!

Wise Guy

Getting ready for school is always an adventure. While we make every effort to prepare the night before by choosing clothes, making sure jackets, mittens, hats and shoes are near the door to the garage, etc., there is inevitably a glitch that causes us to be perpetually late. Sometimes it is mommy hitting the snooze one too many times, sometimes it is a last minute (literally, when we're walking out the door) desperate need to use the potty (#2), sometimes it is just that one or more is moving v-e-r-y- s-l-o-w-l-y! Today, it was C blatantly ignoring requests that he take off his pajamas and get his clothes on. He was much too busy playing with his Hot Wheels "dirt bike" to be bothered with getting ready for school. After a 4th request that he put the dirt bike down and get dressed, I confiscated the prized possession. With all the 3 year old indignation he could muster, he wanted to know why I took his dirt bike...

C: WHY DID YOU TAKE MY DIRT BIKE???
Me: Because you are not listening to Mommy
C: Why?
Me: Your ears do not seem to be working this morning, maybe they broke while you were sleeping (said in a silly voice, trying to change the tone of this exchange)
C: (Pausing to think a a moment and then looking like a Cheshire Cat) YES! They are broken, they got broke when I was sleeping
Me: You'd better fix them right up
C: (With no hesitation) No. They are broken, I cannot fix them so I am not going to listen today!

I am being outsmarted by a 3 year old wise guy...ah, another day in the life!

Accomplishment

A little conversation that took place outside on our deck yesterday afternoon...

C: Mommy, you know what I did at school today?
Me: What did you do at school today?
C: I wiped my butt ALL BY MYSELF - NOBODY HELPED ME (the caps are indicative a a very LOUD and excited voice)
Me: All by yourself? (pride mixed with shock and a little horror about what might still be in his underwear)
C: Yep, CHECK OUT MY BUTT!!! (said while simultaneously turning his rear end to face me - and the golfers on the 5th green - bending over, and dropping his pants and underwear to his ankles)

And several days before while riding in our car...
H to Me: Why aren't you smart?
Me: Uh, I'm smart
H: No, but why aren't you SUPER smart like us and Daddy?
Me: Hmm, maybe because I am so tired all the time
Long Pause
H: Mom, are you a little crazy?
Me: Probably so!
H: Yeah, me too