& There Was Much Rejoicing!!!

Our neighborhood friendly air conditioning repair guy came back again this morning! He tinkered with the outside unit, and climbed up into the attic to see what he could to about our air problem.

He did a lot of cleaning and put some MORE very expensive sealant (stop leak basically) into the unit both at the outside point and upstairs somewhere. You can actually feel the air coming out of the vent right now and, it's cold!!!!!!!

The babies are all doing the happy baby dance of joy in their little feeding chairs over apple juice and cherio's. Vivienne hasn't even let loose with her destitute child wail for about thirty minutes now (quite a record considering the frequency over the past week.)

The cat's are all fighting for spots under the air vents (I have two long haired kitties) and the doggie is still barking, trying to protect us from the evils that be since the air guy knocked on the door (she is a bit confused as she actually likes the air guy and considers him not to be the source of the knocking-silly doggie.)

Any minute now, the realtor and my landlord will be here to do a quick walk-thru of the house. It is being put on the market next week and the realtor has to know what it is she is listing...or so the conversation went at dinner time last night when they called to inform us of the meeting so very conveniently scheduled during the babies' nap time. This should be fun.

At least we have air conditioning for the moment. Hopefully it will last longer than the repair from last week. The problem is, the unit upstairs is antiquated and they just do not make it anymore. In order to get a new one, you have to have sheet metal work done to get it to fit properly which is really expensive. But at least it's cool for the time being, even if it may only last a few days. Now, I have to figure out what I am going to do for a new house. This could get interesting.

The Heat Goes On....& On & ON..

Saturday-Thursday

That repair man was going to be back out here first thing Saturday morning to re-charge the Freon. I had even let him know that I had a 10 o’clock business meeting and he agreed to be here well before that so that I didn’t have to reschedule it or miss it entirely.

Last night, it was cooler outside than it was inside. My babies cried themselves to sleep in their tiny little beds. All Kian wanted was for us to stand in front of the meager stream of air put out by that tiny loaner window unit with him indefinitely. I had to remove all of their bedding save for their sheets. They couldn’t sleep with their little fuzzy baby blankies and stuffed animals because it was so hot in there. Even with the tiny window unit, it was still way to hot in our bedrooms.

This morning the babies got up at the usual time only to find that it was still hot. Vivie serenaded us with her new “I’m Hot!” wail which really has yet to subside. The stress is starting to show in my husband. When it got to be about nine-ish and the thermostat started rising, he really got antsy. Not only would I miss my business meeting, but he would have to go in my stead, leaving me to wait for the repair man or for a call back from our landlord to let us know what was going on.

The babies are all fussy and rightly so. They don’t understand why it’s so hot in here or why they are so uncomfortable, just that they are. We tried putting them into their stroller and taking them outside because it’s a bit cooler out there than in here.

The mosquito’s starting biting and the babies quickly acclimated to the new outside temperature and were promptly hot again. I decided to take them back inside and try for a nap since it was almost 10 o’clock. My husband, meanwhile, decided to try calling about the repair again, and see if we could find out where that repair man is. I wish we had his direct number.

He tried calling several times, and nobody is answering AGAIN. We have yet to hear anything back at all today, actually. Right now my babies are in the beds, screaming because they are tired and very hot. I don’t know what to do really. If I take the babies and leave, I run the risk of the repair man showing up and not seeing the note that I would leave on the door for him.

I have now missed my business meeting. I had to send my husband in my stead, and will have to suffer the consequences of my not being able to be there. We havent been called back, and we have been without air conditioning since Thursday. I am trying to be patient, but my babies are crying, making it very, very difficult.

I suppose I could take them all to a hotel, but would the triplets really adjust and adapt and sleep that way? If I do, I will have to find a way to take the three feeding chairs, the pack & plays (3), and the stroller. They are not all going to fit into the trunk of my car at the same time, so I would have to make several trips.

I am really becoming leery of everything. I have lived in this house for seven years now. I do not understand how anyone could allow my babies to go without air conditioning for so very long, especially when they know we have three small children. I feel like some sort of delinquent that cannot pay the bills and has squandered all of the rent money on alcohol or something.

I suppose I am going to have to either go to a hotel now, or buy some window units large enough to cool at least our bedroom suite and that of my son’s bedroom. My kids cannot take much more of this, and I am trying to be as patient as I can.

My husband just called from the interstate. My meeting went very well without me, however I had to let him know that we hadn't been called back yet about the repairs and it’s now about 1 in the afternoon. He decided to stop by their house and try and talk to them about our situation.

As it turns out, my husband had to convince them that it was not yet repaired fully and to please call that repair man and give him the authorization to come out on a Saturday and re-charge our Freon. It had been over the 12 hours quoted for the unit to thaw out and he had promised to have someone out no later than 2 p.m. that day, however that work had to be authorized.

Thankfully, the repair lady did make it out and she was able to get our Freon charged back up and the air is now working. She did go on and leave that little window unit with us just to make sure that the babies stayed cool and that the Freon charge holds. She was very sweet about the whole thing.

The Next Thursday

Unfortunately, the blissfully cool air lasted all of about a day. As it turns out, when the outside unit was replaced last summer, the attic unit should have also been replaced as well. The air repair people knew that, and had thought that they were going to be authorized to make that repair last summer. Well, it’s this summer and that much needed work STILL has yet to be given the go-ahead to fix what is really wrong with our air.

Today is Thursday, and it’s been a week. We have had air conditioning for all of about one day out of the last seven. This evening, they actually tried to tell us that as far as they knew, it had been repaired. The repair guy would love to explain to explain to them that it isn’t. Thankfully, we now have the repairman's cell phone number and can call him per our landlord.

The real root of the issue seems to be that our house is being put on the market next week. That’s why they called this evening (not to check on the repair issues.) Later this morning, a realtor will be coming over to take a look at our house so that it can be listed on the open market.

For now, I am frantically searching for a temporary solution to the heat and housing problem. I need at least a three bedroom unit, preferably a house. The biggest problem is, that I can’t just move in a weekend anymore because of the triplets. This is going to take some time. Meanwhile, we are still HOT.

Sometimes Babies Do The Strangest Things!

Sometimes children do the strangest things. You know what I mean. I bet you know of some silly stories about your own kids, or grandkids, or even the neighbor’s kids. Some are funny, some are downright frightening, and some are definitely sharing penalties, but we share them all just the same. After all, what would the world be like without silly children stories?

Right now, my kids have this bouncing zebra that spins when you sit on it. The #2 son, the eldest of my triplets, but the smaller of the two boys, has a nasty habit of climbing the corners of the play-yard in an attempt to try and use one of my end tables as a race-track for his car collection.

We have tried everything we can to stop him from doing this, yet he keeps on climbing. Even falling over the edge hasn’t deterred him from his habits. One day, he had climbed up and was balancing on his hips, playing with his car on the end table, feet happily kicking in the air behind him, when my husband told him “No” and to “Get down!”

Kai just laughed at him maniacally, and pushed off of the table, and landed himself on the bounce & spin zebra somehow in the saddle of it, and started bouncing and spinning and laughing, all in one motion.

All three of the babies have little games they play in their beds either right before they go to sleep or in the morning just after they get up. Some days I will go in and find that Vivie has put all of her babies “Night-night” by covering them all up in some way or another-some are covered with blankets, some with cloth diapers, and one dollie is usually covered with the pinafore of her dress pulled up over her head!

The boys have this nursery game where they like to take all of the toys and blankets in their bed and toss them to this one center point of the nursery. I often times find all of their bed-stuff in the center of the room in this mound. The odd thing is that their beds are all on different walls, so they have to work at hitting the same point!

Then there was the night that we went in to give Vivie a midnight snack (we all get rumbly tummies in the middle of the night every now and then!) and found Kai’s bed empty, save for only Kai and his Mickey Mouse doll. He had put Mickey to sleep right next to him in bed on his tummy with his rear up in the air and his hands under his head just like he liked to sleep. Then Kai had proceeded to fall asleep right next to Mickey in the exact same position!


Then there is the way that my trio calls for their brother. Sometimes it’s by his actual name, “Bregon,” other times it’s by some other means. Vive likes to call him “Eggie,” Kai and Kian sometimes call him “Uggah, Eggan,” or “Brubby” because they couldn’t say brother and the names just sort of stuck.

There was this one feeding-time when my husband put Vivie down because she had refused her bottle and her brother was hungry and sad about it. Much to our surprise, she gasped and said, “Bad Daddy!”

Now we find ourselves having tiny, meaningful conversations with our trio. Vivie will dutifully point to your nose and ask, “What’s that?” If you answer correctly, she will reward you with either a “Meep” (beep) or a “Awnk” (honk) and giggle hysterically at her little joke.

Kian’s latest silly habit is something a bit more peculiar. I am not sure when he picked this one up, or rather where, as none of us remember letting him watch “The Godfather.”

If one of his siblings makes him mad, he will grab them by the head with both hands on either side, and give them this HUGE open mouthed kiss on their forehead with a huge smacking sound (more of a “M-mah” noise really’) just before he pushes them away with both hands as hard as he can.

How exactly does one explain to a 15 month old that he isn’t really making things better by kissing his siblings prior to hurting them, even if they did take your favorite toy away from you even though we all know that Kian had it first?

Babies can be so very funny sometimes! What did we used to talk about before we had children? I know it must have been something, but apparently it wasn’t near as interesting!

Hot, Hot, Hot continued, Friday

Friday

We all woke up really early because of the heat. The thermostat measured in at a whopping 80 degrees. As the clock rolled over to 8:00 a.m., I decided that it was of a decent hour and I began calling my landlord as they had requested, to remind them about the much needed repair. I left several messages and finally decided that any more would be rude, even though my triplets were wailing in the background of the messages.

I looked up and found that it was almost noon and I had yet to receive a call back from anyone about our problem. After a whopper message from my husband, they finally called back to let us know that someone would be out today (after much convincing) by one. They actually tried to make us wait until Monday for a repair man.

So here we all sit, with the lights off and the air on, hoping that it will spit out a bit of cool air here and there. The thermostat is sitting on about 90 and it’s at least not all that hot out…The babies are playing in their play-yard happily as can be expected in their wilted little state, their only fights seem to be over who is going to have all of the sippy cups of nice cold juice.

Once the repairman came, we got the wonderful news that the air needed to be charged with Freon, but first it would have to DEFROST for about twelve hours. Yes, they honestly expect me to live in a house for another night with three very unhappy, hot and confused babies with NO AIR CONDITIONING. Did I mention that the same guy has replaced the big unit outside once, and recharged the Freon twice last summer?

He did take pity on our plight and left us with a nice small window unit for the bedroom, promising that he would have someone out first thing in the morning to recharge the Freon.

Once husband got home and received the news, he frantically began changing out the living room ceiling fan (the possessed one that keeps throwing blades randomly across the room at will) and set about figuring out exactly how we were going to fit the window unit into the babies room without the babies playing with it.

Kai’s bed already had to be moved away from the wall once, to avoid him being able to play with the mini-blinds and scale the crib walls with ease. This left that window for the window unit. Husband was able to get the thing into the window almost too easily. It repaid us by having water in its plug and not working once we managed to get the extension cord plugged in into the bathroom socket.

We now have an extension cord running from our sun porch (nursery) through our bedroom, into the hallway and from there, into the bathroom where it now occupies the part of the socket formerly inhabited by my toothbrush (‘tis a small price to pay if I have happy, cool babies and cannot brush my teeth!)

Husband has been trying to re-wire the air conditioner plug so that we will hopefully have cool babies. Meanwhile, Bregon has been trying to feed the babies, overseeing the three-way split of ham, cheese cubes and corn while I record the ongoing saga. Vivie has fallen asleep in her feeding chair, Kai just let a mouthful (and I mean full) of food come tumbling out of his mouth for his brother’s enjoyment, cackling the entire time while Kian is easing his chubby little hand over to his brother’s tray to snag an extra bite or two.

Tonight, we will all pile into my tiny bedroom and try and sleep a bit in the heat. They say a cold front has come in, but the only way I can tell is that it is cooler outside than it is inside the house. It’s dark outside, and our thermostat doesn’t seem to realize it as it still sits on 90.

Hot, Hot, Hot... Day 1

Thursday

A few days ago, it started feeling a bit like summer. It didn’t occur to me at first, but I really shouldn’t have been feeling summer inside my house. After all, the air conditioner unit was replaced last summer and subsequently recharged with Freon as the summer ended. One would think that it would be doing well as the unit is new and has already been recharged twice.

The signs are all there, though. My babies’ hair is starting to curl up at the end; even Vivienne has super large ringlets in her very thick peach fuzz. Kai’s smaller more sparse little do is now sporting tiny upturned curly-q’s at the nape of his tiny neck. Kian’s hair is sticking up in whatever pattern it was smished into from the last time he laid down, tiny pieces of fuzz are starting to stick to it from the carpet and I think that is a teddy graham- head that I see peeping out from behind his cow-lick.

The only one of us who has yet to notice that it’s getting a bit warm in here is my eldest son. He is claiming that a week at boyscout camp in the broiling sun has conditioned him to not notice temperature, thus he appears un-phased by the rising thermostat- he is still insisting on wearing his grey-flannel bathrobe so I suppose he must be okay!

We contacted our landlord last night. Of course, it was a last resort for me because I always like to give things the benefit of the doubt and try and resolve problems myself if at all possible.

One of the things we purchased on our Wal-mart outing was a package of fresh air-filters just in case the one I replaced less than a month ago proved fuzzy or dirty. I had left the air off in case it proved frozen while we ran our errands so that I would know if it was the filter or not causing the problem.

I replaced the slightly fuzzy old filter with a shiny new blue one and hoped for the best. About an hour later, we discovered that there was what appeared to be a small ice-berg forming on the air unit out back. We tried hosing it off, and letting everything thaw out to no avail. I put in a quick call to our landlord for repair (had to leave a message.)

Over the course of that rather warmish evening, my daughter developed a whole new cry. It’s more of a wail, really. Not quite as bad as the “Wah-wah Wail” she had reserved for her interment in the NICU, but still a wail all the same. I have named it her "Destitute child" cry and it is pitiful. Kian is also working on his own version of the same.

Vivienne has spent the last few hours honing her new cry to a fine art. The dog is starting to howl along with her in unison, their song is something to hear, let me tell you!

Friends...

I have been reading about all of these mommies that are lonely after having their kids. It seems that once we have our kids, we seem to lose track of our social lives. This makes me wistful for my friends.

I haven’t seen most of mine in quite a while. After all, many of my friends live in other states. After working for Renaissance festivals for the past ten years, I have friends spread out all over the place. I don’t attribute that to the birth of my triplets, although I suppose it must have a little to do with it.

For obvious reasons, I no longer work for the Renaissance festival. We were asked to come back and work, triplets and all, however I just felt that the festival might have some child labor problems if I decided to try and lug my trio out there and work in the lanes as performers.

I suppose I could also go back to work for my friends who have several stores on the site, but I am just not so sure that my kids would acclimate very well to living in the back of the booth on weekends even if it is one of the few with climate control and real potties. Besides, it is about a five hour drive made mostly at night and trying to keep them on their schedule during a faire day may be stretching my luck a bit!

We do still all keep in touch. The Internet is our main source of communication as it is free and easily accessible for everyone. I keep track of everyone through our message boards and as of late even through care-pages as one of my friends has had quite an extreme pirate make-over and now is working on obtaining a peg-leg.

I do have a few friends in town. I ran into one of them today at Wal-mart of all places! It was nice to get to try and talk a quick bit. I got to even meet her new husband, who seems like a very nice man. It’s not every day I actually get stopped by someone that I know!

Another friend of mine works really odd hours mostly, so I don't get to see her much either. She is such a trooper. While I was on bed rest over Christmas season, she borrowed her mother's mini-van and motorized cart so that I could go Christmas shopping.

She came over, Santa hat collection in tow, and actually took her very pregnant and hormonal friend shopping, not once, but twice. She didn't even flinch when we discovered that very hormonal, very pregnant ladies (or maybe it was because it was just me) cannot drive motorized carts to save their lives. She wasn't even embarrassed to be seen with me when I nearly took out an entire display in the middle of the mall... then there was that innocent bystander....well you get the idea!

That very same friend would spend most of the evening, well into the wee hours of the night with me while I was in recovery after the triplet's birth. I know I wasn't pretty and probably not very pleasant either, but she stayed with me none-the-less so that I wasn't lonely. She even helped me keep my mind off of my three tiny babies that I hadn't met yet that were in the NICU. I am so grateful for her (Happy Birthday MK!)

Then there is my adventurous friend. There is only one who has actually been brave enough to come over and go shopping with us. Her name is Christina, but my son renamed her C-neenie when he was about 2 and the name has since stuck!

One day back in September, she very bravely came over in hopes of checking out the newly-opened Halloween store with us. Little did she know exactly what she was in for. First off, we had decided for some reason that it was a good idea to take her car instead of mine-why, I don’t remember.

We were lucky, that for some reason or another, the stroller actually fit into her trunk with out having to bungee it shut. It was looking positive! Then we discovered that one of the seat belts in the backseat didn’t buckle. Only a true friend will sit there and trouble shoot and actually find a solution for this silly puzzle of mine- how to get three baby-car-seats into the backseat of a car with only two seat belts.

I had quite forgotten about the latch system… Then my phone rang with another friend that I hadn’t spoken to in forever calling us. While I giggled with him over our folly, C-neenie actually managed to seat belt two car seats with one belt (latch & all just in case) and finagled the remaining seat, baby and all into place.

Once we arrived at the Halloween store, my poor, already frazzled friend decided that she wanted to give limo-driving a try. She managed very well, even dodging well meaning onlookers and fielding questions about my trio while we all speed shopped through the store.

I am so very grateful for my daring and brave friend. She is the only person other than my aunt who has ventured out in public with us for a shopping excursion. She always makes me feel normal even when I know that I and my family are anything but!

Today, my son and I went on a mission to find booster seats. I have hopes that this will ease the strain of us attempting lunch at local restaurants. We managed to find three fold-able boosters that fold up like tiny camping chairs and have little drawstring pouches for toting them. We are ready for a lunch date as soon as some of my friends are brave enough to try eating at a table with three tiny novice diners and their mum!

Bubble Machine Bliss

It started out as an impulse buy, one of those tiny little overlooked items sitting on the toy-store shelf that normally I would never have even noticed. We were on our triplet’s first movie outing, down at the Boardwalk, and we were passing the toy store.

It was funny. They had a door-person out in front of the store with this dinosaur bubble machine whose job it seemed was to make as many bubbles for passers by as possible. It reminded me of when I was in NYC and had seen the one for FAO Swartz. That’s what initially caught my eye, as I am a huge fan of the bigger toy-land type toy stores in bigger cities.

Of course, being the Mum that I am, I steered our heavy laden limo-sized stroller into the shop, knowing that my triplets MUST have a bubble machine. I could rationalize this, really I could.

We have been having dining troubles, eating woes, and I had discovered that if the babies were distracted, they would eat from the spoon without much thought. This could be the answer!

Of course, I didn’t get out of the store all that easily. I left with two motorized trucks complete with motor and lights action, a Mortal Combat action figure, and a shiny new triceratops bubble machine.

We got our booty home, only to discover that once we fed our triceratops with battery’s, he didn’t reciprocate by blowing any bubbles. His tummy didn’t even grumble any to even give us hopes of the promised bubbly-goodness to come.

Lucky for us, we live pretty close to the mall, so I was able to leave the kids with my son and run up there and exchange our triceratops for one that was feeling a bit more rumbly in his tummy! Oddly enough, because I had purchased the original one in Bossier, and was returning it in Shreveport, I was due a whole refund of a penny. Guess it all works out after all!

I was able to make it home before dinner and get our new triceratops bubble guy fed with his batteries and full of bubble goo in time for dinner. We managed to get all of the triplets situated in their little chairs and us surrounding them for damage control. We quickly found that bubbles were the answer to everything! They were so busy reacting to the bubbles that they didn’t have any time to try and figure out ways to avoid my spoon full of dinner!

Vivie likes to eat her bubbles. Kian will try and catch them, which makes him giggle hysterically to the point that he has trouble stopping (I have to make sure that I let him calm down before sneaking the spoon in!) Kaiden flails his arms cross-wise in some attempt to keep the bubbles from getting in his face (apparently that’s too weird of a sensation for him) but he doesn’t mind popping them or touching them with his fingers!

We play with our bubble machine when we eat. We play with it in our play yard so we can chase them in hopes of fooling the babies into leaving their safety-zone and taking more steps. We take it with us for distraction when we go out shopping. That tiny green triceratops has become quite a facet in our family, leading to much bubble machine bliss!

A Swimming Saturday

Saturday morning, I was to drive my twelve year old to Dallas to see the DSM production of “Chicago.” The weather looked promising as we left the house. It was slightly overcast, but the sun looked like it was trying to peek through the clouds, or maybe I was just being optimistic.

We had about thirty minutes of decent weather before driving into the storms. The traffic had been terrible the entire way, which was unusual. It seemed that we had “Dallas drivers” from the time we hit the interstate. People were driving side by side, and tailgating to boot, making it next to impossible to pass anyone or even drive the speed limit for that matter.

Once we were into the storms, it was even worse because these people never changed their driving habits. We did find that we were able to make better time all of the sudden. Then I realized that the same people that had been holding up traffic were the ones crunched on the side of the road with their hazards on. We must have passed about fifteen wrecks that we actually noticed (we were both more concerned with the road and the blinding rain.)

It only took us about three and a half hours to make what is normally a two and a half hour trip. Not too shabby, I suppose, considering we normally leave really early so that we can have lunch at Town East Mall and shop a bit before heading over to the Music Hall for the performance.

This time, we went directly to the Music Hall because I can never be certain of the traffic that we will run into over there. As luck would have it, there wasn’t any real traffic, and we were able to drive right up to the front valet parking station without any problem.

Since we had skipped our usual lunch habits, I allowed my son to choose something out of the deli line. We ended up having a sort of early tea in the balcony of the Music Hall lobby while we watched all of the people. It ended up working out for the best as the house wasn’t open to the patrons until about 1:45 (the curtain was to have been at 2:00.)

Over all, we had a really great time. Bregon followed the storyline of the show easily (and he hadn’t even seen the movie before) and he loved what he saw. This particular touring production was fabulous, even if the understudy had to take Lisa Rinna’s role for this performance (she had flown back to L.A. for the Emmy’s and her plane hadn’t been able to land that morning because of the weather.)

We were able to meet Tom Wopat during intermission and ended up with an autographed c.d. and all of the playbills and the program signed as well. He is really such a nice man. He even asked for Bregon’s name so he could include it in the autograph. Most actors don’t take the time to do that anymore. Bregon was really excited to get to talk to him a bit as well.

After the show, we were feeling adventurous and decided to go and try and find the Galleria so that Bregon could try ice-skating for the first time. Our directions involved using the toll road, so Bregon dug out a dollar in change just in case we needed to pay.

As luck would have it, the portion that we were on was under heavy construction and the kiosk where one would have normally paid was boarded off and shut down. All my son could talk about is that he couldn’t believe that anyone would have to pay to drive on a road that was as rough and full of pot-holes as this one. You would think he could drive or something!

Just when we thought our directions were sending us in the wrong direction, we happened upon the parking garages for the Galleria. We were even able to park without any problem. My son was amazed with the size of the mall as he is used to our dinky little one-story malls locally (he had thought Town East was huge with its space-ship spire and two and a half stories.)

We explored all three levels of the mall and didn’t seem to miss a thing. Every time we came to the center of the mall, he would wistfully look down into the ice-rink and give me his biggest “Puss” eyes in some attempt to make me feel sorry for him not yet getting to try ice-skating.

After dinner, I took him downstairs and let him buy his ticket for the skate rental and his skate-pass. He questioned (more interrogated) me as to exactly what ice-skating was like and how hard would it be to actually do it. I told him that it was just like roller-blading, but more slippery!

I told him that I would watch from the benches, and gave him a little push towards the ice. I had thought he would be a rail-clutcher at first. Not my kid, he just skated out onto the ice as if it was the most natural thing in the world and started around the rink as if he was speed skating. All I could do was shake my head, as he befriended a few other little boys and they all started racing. We all but shut the rink down for the night (they are open ‘till 11 for skating.)

Lucky for us, the rain had stopped completely. The ride home was very nice and uneventful save for the peculiar road construction divider down the middle of the highway that prevented us from being able to take the correct exit towards home. It was easily remedied, and we made it home by 2 a.m. We had had a lovely, very full day and didn't even have to worry about swimming home!

The Right To Bear Children...In Any Amount Conceived

Over the past few days, an argument has been emerging over the use of fertility treatment and the higher rate of multiple births because of its use in the United States. It would seem that there is much debate over the carrying of higher order multiples and the offering of selective reduction to prevent such births from occurring. All of this has been brought about over the births of two sets of septuplets in the same 24 hour period.

I am puzzled at the response some people are having over the subject, yet I am drawn to message boards full of well meaning people who obviously haven’t any clue as what it is they are arguing over. I spent about two hours lurking on the AOL message board today, watching the wide array of responses.

It would seem that most people are offended by the use of fertility treatment, saying basically that if God intended these people to have children, they would have been able to conceive naturally without the use of any sort of fertility treatment.

Other seemingly professed anti-abortionists have extrapolated the subject to such extremes that they find themselves on platforms of pro-abortion, saying that mothers who find they are pregnant with multiples after using fertility treatments should accept selective reduction as a means of aborting those unwanted, unneeded fetus’s that would otherwise be born prematurely and with health problems.

What these people seem to be overlooking is the fact that even if a mother chooses selective reduction, there is no guarantee that the remaining fetus’s will remain viable. The procedure can in fact cause the rest of the babies to spontaneously abort because of the other’s dying.

Some of these people actually appear to have come to the conclusion that these babies will be a burden on society and never become normal, functioning, contributing citizens and thus they should be eliminated in the effort to conserve natural resources and as a means to combat over-population.

Let’s assume that these people represent the general populace just for sake of argument. They actually appear to be saying that these higher order multiple children who are conceived via means of fertility treatment are not real children, but in fact “Fakes” that do not deserve basic human rights. Conversely, this would mean that naturally conceived higher order multiples would be socially accepted and garner the same rights as every other naturally conceived singleton child.

If compared side by side, what is the difference in these children other than means of conception? I am very confused. These people appear to be deciding that abortion is okay for those children “Unnaturally” conceived, yet not okay for those those who are “Spontaneously” conceived.

Let’s examine this on a base level. In today’s society, let us look at a young woman who is into hard drugs such as methamphetamines and alcohol abuse and has just found out that she is pregnant. Assume that in a moment of lucidity, she decided that she wanted to abort her unborn child based on the idea that she was using prior to becoming pregnant and afterwards as well.

Should this mother go seek an abortion, she will be faced with many well-meaning people who will try and sway her from having it, offering her alternatives such as adoption and re-hab.

In some states there is a waiting period and required counseling that she must go through before the actual procedure can occur. Chances are, this mother will not end up getting the abortion because of the processes involved.

What becomes of the child should this mother actually carry it to term? There is a good many of mother’s like her who actually do make it to term. These children are often born addicts, malnourished, and with birth defects caused by the drugs taken by the mother. These children are also often either abandoned in the NICU by the mothers or taken home and left to their own devices. I am not sure which is worse.

Let us look at another mother. Let’s say she is of an average maternal age and has fertility problems. They can be caused by anything from genetics, birth control or medicines taken by her mother while pregnant with our mom, or even weight or smoking problems. Perhaps this mother and her husband turned to fertility for pregnancy assistance. Let’s say that she is pregnant with triplets.

From experience, I know that one of the very first things discussed as a mother carrying multiples is selective reduction. It is said that carrying higher order multiples to term is very difficult and rarely happens successfully. These children are more prone to birth defects and development problems because of the shared womb and shorter gestation. So the question is, should selective reduction be an option if abortion really isn’t one in most pregnancy cases?

Under the new mindset forming after the sextuplet births last week, it would appear that the mother on drugs is wrong to seek an abortion for her unborn child and the mother carrying multiples should by all means have that abortion because her children aren’t “Real” and will not be born healthy and have any chance becoming a contributing citizen worthy of breathing the same air as the normally conceived child born with her mother’s drug addiction.

I just do not and cannot understand how people can say that a child isn’t real and how one child doesn’t deserve basic rights and yet another is entitled to them. Are we to look forward to a world with two different groups of people, one with rights because they were conceived naturally and then ones without rights who were conceived with fertility aids of some sort?

These “Fake” children would most likely be relegated to living in camps (like concentration or work camps) or grotto’s of some sort and denied basic quality of life needs such as base medical access and foods, if historical precedent holds true. We saw it happen in Germany with the Nazi’s and we see it every day on TV in our national news reports as well.

Now there is a strain of medical opinion forming that would include selective reduction as the general accepted practice when a mother is pregnant with higher order multiples. She would no longer be faced with any sort of decision as to whether she should or could carry the babies to a safe gestation point. She would be required medically as part of her fertility treatment to have selective reduction and risk losing all of the conceived babies. However, this does nothing to change the general abortion laws. Mother's carrying naturally conceived children are somehow excluded from this new debate.

If this is what we have to look forward to as the new world order, we should all take heed. It’s not just our rights to our bodies as women that will be at stake here, but a matter of our basic human rights under the constitution and that of our children and their children as well and THAT is a scary thought.

Today Is Doctor Day

This morning, we had our fifteen month well-baby check-up with our pediatrician. In spite of the rain, we managed to get there on time, somehow.

The poor desk lady was very confused when I explained my insurance dilemma to her as I have been having trouble getting my LAHIPP renewed. As it turns out, the Medicaid office still is listing themselves as secondary insurance only even though the new representative with the LAHIPP office has said that my trio isn't considered premature now that they are a year old.

My doctor is so very nice about everything in spite of all of the trouble I have with my insurance. They even giggled when the insurance company insisted that they were triple charging my child for visits even though the charges were for three separate children.

In some attempt to aid us in our plight, she wrote three statements, one for each of the trio, defining prematurity in lay-men's terms, saying that they were susceptible to developmental issues and growth problems because they were born six weeks early and were multiples which means they were even smaller than if they were singletons at birth! You would think that we wouldn't have to have the doctor write such statements to someone who works in a medical based industry, but apparently, we do.

Everyone at the office was very happy to hear about us kicking our bottle habit. We didn't even have to get any shots this visit! Don't worry, the babies still SCREAMED as loudly as they could muster just to make everyone feel extra bad about prodding them so. When the nurse went to measure Vivienne and see how tall she was, Kian (who I was holding at the time) decided to come to his sister's defense by hitting the nurse as hard as a baby could muster in the center of her back. It's a good thing she has a good sense of humor.

The desk lady was nice enough to help us out to the car too. She stood with the stroller and the babies under the awning while I ran to get the car for them. She even helped me load the babies into the car and all of our many bags and stuffs too. I am so very lucky to have such a wonderful pediatrician's office!

Next, I had to run to Sam's to pick up a few things, one of which was the mondo box of goldfish crackers which is a staple of life in our house. Since Kai isn't even on the growth charts weight-wise, I am under orders to try and make him eat more (which may be very difficult as he will ONLY EAT THINGS HE CAN FEED HIMSELF & things that aren't mushy!) Luckily, the doctor did say that my other two babies are on the charts, but she didn't tell me where they were exactly on it in some attempt to make me feel better (I think it's cute that she does this as I am really used to the idea that they grow at their own little person rate that isn't like the rest of the baby world!)

We breezed through Sam's pretty quick considering we made a few new friends while we were in there and had to say hi to our old ones! One of the door lady's who is always so excited to see us, was on break but still walked us to the door and had the other door lady call someone to help us to the car because I was all by myself. She said that she knows that I can do it by myself, but that she had someone who could help me with our buggy and escort us to the car.

The last time we had been there, there had been a rather uncomfortable confrontation a few buggy's back in the exit line that had not ended with security. That poor lady thought it was over when security was called on the irate people, but as it turned out, the mean folks actually followed her to her car and blocked her into her parking spot in an attempt to attack her. Luckily, someone saw what was happening and security escorted them off of the property.

It was really nice to have someone help us out at Sam's. The man was so very nice, he even loaded everything into the trunk of my car for me and even made sure that he kept everything to one side so that I could get the stroller in as well without any problem! It was just a really nice surprise.

I stopped by and got the babies some chicken from Cane's (Kai needs the calories & the other two are only about a pound larger than he is so I am guessing they need em too!) Their little tummies are very full and they are currently all napping in their beddy-byes. My husband has gone to pick up my eldest at boyscout camp in Arkansas, and tomorrow I am taking him to Dallas to see Chicago at the Music Hall. Everything seems to be going well!

Those Less Fortunate

As you probably already have already realized, as a triplet family, my husband, son and I are seasoned NICU vets. We pretty much knew from the moment that we were given the news that we were expecting triplets that they would be in the NICU instead of the normal nursery after their birth.

Nothing can really prepare you for what it’s like, having to see your three very tiny babies hooked up to all those wires and IV’s and even the ventilators (which I pretty much missed because I myself ended up spending nearly two full days in recovery after having failed anesthesia 101.)

Over all, my family handled the entire experience rather well. We had watched those Discovery Health Channel programs as a family, where the babies all were born early and had various problems that resulted in NICU treatments, all of which were caught on camera somehow.

Even my 11 year old (at the time) seemed fairly prepared to see his tiny siblings hooked up to scary machines that make them seem more like tiny aliens than the ultra-sound pictures had made them out to be. We even found some humor in the idea that when one of the boys managed to blow his IV’s and had to have his re-inserted into a vein in his tiny head, the other one appeared jealous and managed to get a really cool cone hat just like his brother’s the VERY next day.

This rivalry would extend to such accessories as the little foam stick-on sunglasses that you get when given a day to sun yourself under the jaundice lamps, and even to the icky nasty barium bottle that Kai appeared to think of as getting extra grocery’s for the day and a cool ride in his own warm blankie-ladden chariot down to have his photo taken in radiology which resulted in both boys getting diagnosed officially with reflux. They even tried to have heart murmurs after three weeks just so they could get the same extra meds that sister was getting. That rivalry exists even to this very day.

In order to juggle life with a graduating fifth-grader, a husband who had to work, my recovering from my very large very yet necessary c-section and three tiny babies who needed a cheering squad and family support, we would have to make some adjustments. We didn’t mind making them, mind you, it’s just that nobody can explain to you exactly what it is you are preparing for prior to having to just do it!

Each day, I would be up and dressed and head to the hospital for the first feeding that I could make which usually ended up being the 9 and later 10 o’clock feeding, after seeing my husband and son off for their day. I would make as many feedings as I could each day, making sure to hold them each for a while so they could have one on one mommy time. I would stay until it was time to pick up my son from school, then we would return for the 6 o’clock feeding with my son and husband along so that the babies could have some daddy and brother time too!

My babies were each very lucky. They thrived and grew and were home before their first month birthday arrived- just barely, but home all the same with little problem. Sure they had reflux meds and Vivie had a small heart-murmur, but it closed on its own and everything went smoothly from there.

It would be October, during the Revel, that I would make an unusual discovery. It’s an issue that nobody really ever thinks much about, but is a very sad one none the less. I was taking my kids to have lunch at the Revel and listen to our favorite band, Trout Fishing in America, when we were stopped by a lady who was pushing a twin stroller.

Being stopped in public isn’t all that unusual for us, in fact it’s quite the norm. But this time was a little bit different. This lady wasn’t the actual mother of the twin toddler’s she was pushing in that stroller. She is a foster mom who specializes in preemies and multiples who are given up for whatever reason by their families for adoption.

During the course of our conversation, her phone rang and she excused herself to answer it. I would find out after she ended the call, that it was the social worker from the hospital calling to see if she was available to foster three tiny triplets, born to a teen mother at only 23 weeks and left in the NICU to their own devices. The truly sad part, was that this lady had been forced to turn down the offer because she already was fostering twins and another child as well.

I really wanted to help. I know that, much like the lady from the Revel that day, I have my own very full house right now. I just cannot help myself when I find myself tearing up over the whole thing. After all, one of the first things that I learned about babies born prematurely, especially micro-preemies like those triplets were, is that they draw their strength from their mommies being there with them.

Its part of the premise behind the whole kangaroo care treatments and the reason so many micro-preemies make it through the NICU and grow up to be healthy babies. I just can’t imagine anyone abandoning their very tiny children like that on the assumption that there is someone out there who will step in as a foster parent and be there for them as an advocate of their care and as support for their tiny growing bodies.

From speaking with this lady, I learned that there are really very few people willing to take on the work involved in caring for a premature baby that is still in the NICU, much less anyone willing to care for multiples. Multiples rely on each other for comfort and self-soothing as very tiny babies. The thought of what might happen if they were to be split up is a very sad one.

Today, as I was lurking on the preemie forum for Preemie Magazine, I ran across a thread that involved a very select few people in the world, people who were actively fostering and trying to adopt children left by their families in the NICU. It gave me a little hope that there are people out there willing to care for these special babies. Unfortunately, they appear to be very few in number.

In today’s world, most people aren’t looking to adopt a special needs or high medical maintenance child or children, unaware that many of these children would qualify for Medicaid to cover medical expenses. Instead, they are turning to other alternatives in the adoption world. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying everyone should only adopt these children. Adoption is a very personal choice for anyone considering it.

I often wonder what ever became of those tiny triplets left in the NICU to their own devices. I can only hope that someone out there was available to step in and give them a chance.

My husband and I have talked about it at length about it, and have decided that once our own kids are grown, we are going to try fostering preemies and multiples. I challenge others out there who are looking to be foster parents or adopt to look into this growing problem and explore this issue further and see if it is right for your family.

Dining Dilemma

Today is my trio’s fifteenth month birth date. They are good little babies and drink only from their sippy cups and eat in their feeding chairs like real toddlers (even if they can’t quite toddle just yet!) They drink whole milk instead of formula and eat real table foods.

That’s the problem, really. They are old enough to eat real table food, not the pureed variety that comes in a jar or little plastic container. In fact, they have stopped eating anything that remotely resembles baby food. If it’s soupy or mushy, they won’t eat it.

Also, they have apparently made some uniform decision not to eat anything that they cannot pick up all by themselves. I know this should be a phase and all, but we are going on three weeks of this.

All they seem to want to eat is chicken tenders or ham chopped into tiny bite-sized pieces. They will eat cheese cubes and those little individually packaged servings of veggies from Wal-mart. Unfortunately, that’s about all they will eat.

I have tried chopping up fresh fruit, giving them fruit cups, or even applesauce. Their final verdict on that is that the fruit is much too slimy to be any good, and the applesauce is much to much like baby food.

I have tried being creative by giving them those Gerber Graduates dinners, but those mostly require spoon feeding, which they aren’t really all that great at yet, and they refuse to let me spoon-feed them, no matter how much they seem to like what is on that spoon.

I have also tried Hormel, Chef Boyardee, and various other little supposed kid-friendly dinners to no avail. They only want something that they can pick up themselves.

I know that nobody ever starved by eating like this. After all, I should just be very grateful that they aren’t only eating something awful like French fries or Twinkies (I guess it’s only because I don’t buy them!) But when will this end?

I really hesitate to give them a spoon of their own to fill with something messy as my house is so very tiny that we are forced to feed them in the living room on the carpet. For now, they do get spoons and tiny forks with each meal to learn to use them (which seems to be working.) Eventually, I will get brave enough to try something a bit more adventurous.

I suppose we shall soon see how their newly preferred eating habits are affecting their weight once we get to our doctor’s appointment. Maybe she will just be so very glad that we kicked our bottle habits that she will overlook our dining delimma!

An Hour Early, Fifteen Minutes Late

Every new mom has to adjust to life with her new baby. Prior to birth, they read articles in magazines, excerpts from books, and get countless amounts of advice from their peers on how they will have to adjust their lives, from the unsuspecting and care-free days they enjoyed prior to giving birth, to the hectic and often blurry days to come once baby arrives.

None of this can quite prepare any mom for those first few outings with their new baby. In fact, my triplets are fifteen months tomorrow, and I STILL haven’t quite figured it all out yet.

In the beginning, the NICU thought they were being nice and helpful by releasing only one of my tiny trio from the hospital. This was meant to help me adjust to life with one newborn preemie before I was suddenly faced with life with three.

As I already have a twelve-year old son, I found caring for my newly NICU-sprung triplet much like riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget. The only really odd issue that we had was the separation anxiety that he had for his siblings.

He had been used to sharing his bed with his siblings and spending his every waking and sleeping moment with them. He had only had his own bed for about a week before he was allowed to co-bed with his brother. Lucky for me, he quickly learned to think of himself as an “Only Baby” and actually reveled in the fact that he had all the toys and the bed to himself. This was going to be short-lived!

As for me, well I took the opportunity to make dry-runs of getting the baby ready and out of the house for an outing on time. It’s never easy, as you can never guess what obstacles are going to present themselves.

My goal was to get to the NICU for the babies to get to eat on their regular schedule together as usual which meant that we had that whole 10, 2 & 6 schedule. I actually was able to get to the hospital, find a reasonable parking spot in the parking garage, and make the very long trek to the NICU with the baby carrier, diaper bag and purse in tow and in time to feed all three babies as usual.

For a time, I thought I had it all down and could do this! Boy was I fooling myself. You have to understand that the hospital isn’t like other places around town. There, people aren’t as likely to stop and ask too many questions, especially going in the back way like I was accustomed to doing.

You also have to remember that at this point, I was only sporting one baby carrier filled with one very tiny month-old baby boy, which wasn’t all that unusual in a hospital. I had yet to even fathom all of the strange things that I would have to plan for with triplets.

I would find out during our first visit to the doctor’s office. Oddly enough, the appointment was for me, not the children. I was very optimistic about taking the triplets to my appointment with me as it’s customary for all new moms to take their baby with them to show them off to the doctor and her staff. What I didn’t realize was that I am no longer like those other moms.

I was actually on time that day. I left about 45 minutes early to go to the doctor’s office which was about five minutes away from my home in heavy traffic on a stormy day. I had to drive around a while before finding a parking spot.

Then I had to unload my boy’s into the single-baby stroller (I wouldn’t get our limo until they were about 5 months old.) This meant that I had to roll baby blankets and plug the leg-holes with them baby bumper style, lest one of the boys managed to scoot down too far and hang out a bit. Yes, you read correctly, I could place both boys in the single-baby stroller and still have room for them to stretch about. I would just carry Vivie in her baby carrier and push the boys in the stroller. It all sounded good, in theory.

It was in the parking lot that the first questions came. The well-meaning people getting into the car next to us, peeked into the stroller expecting to coo over the cute baby. Instead, they were shocked to see two very tiny babies fighting over their pacifiers.

“Twins?” they asked. “Triplets!” I replied, as I set Vivie in her carrier down next to the stroller. I must have spent the next five minutes trying to politely answer questions and head for the building without appearing too rude.

It must have taken me thirty minutes just to get past all of the people streaming out of the building, the ones we passed in the hallway and the ones who didn’t want to let us out of the elevator, all asking questions about my babies. Somehow, I managed to sign in for my appointment exactly at the time I was scheduled. I will NEVER know how I managed it.

Next, I experienced a new problem, one we have yet to figure out how to overcome. I had to take the stroller and the carrier into the examination room with me, and they both didn’t fit in there with the doctor, the assistant, and the usual equipment.

Keep in mind, at this point, we are only in a singleton stroller and baby carrier. The triplet stroller REALLY doesn’t fit! I ended up having to leave them in my doctor’s actual office during the exam with one of the nurses keeping an eye on them-it was probably the speediest doctor’s visit ever!

Once I had the behemoth triplet stroller, we would have to allocate for new and interesting tasks to add to the usual getting the babies ready for outings: gathering toys, stocking the diaper bag, fixing bottles and packing the insulated bags with them, loading the car with all the babies (one at a time, mind you or all at once in the stroller which takes even longer) and bags, loading the trunk with the limo-sized stroller that doesn’t fit in the first place, along with everything else that wouldn’t fit in the actual car itself and finally tying the trunk shut with bungee cords, with the stroller hanging out about 8 inches past the bumper of the car.

For one of the babies’ appointments, I actually left the house an entire hour early to allow for traffic, unloading, and questioning time. I was feeling pretty good about being able to do this, too. It was going great, traffic wasn’t bad, the weather was turning out rather pleasant, and I would have plenty of time to do everything nice and leisurely, or so I thought.

I was sitting at a red light waiting for the green one, when a student who appeared to be late for a class decided to use my car as his brakes. Not only did he rear-end me coming off of the inner-loop, but he tried to ignore the fact that he did, thinking I would just drive off and forget about it.

Because of my tiny trio riding in the backseat, I had to get out and make this guy un-roll his window and see if I could make him wait for the police to file a report for the accident. I managed to get his insurance card to make sure he wouldn’t leave the scene (as he had already tried to already) and we both pulled off to wait for police.

Luckily, my trio didn’t even cry and seemed okay in spite of everything. I really wanted to cry, though. There is nothing more frightening to a mom than to have to look in the backseat just after getting into an accident.

The police finally came to take the information on the report, and actually starting asking me questions about the babies as small talk. He tried to get us to go the hospital, but I explained that we were already on our way to our pediatrician for an appointment and that I would have her check us out there.

I called while the policeman was talking to the other driver and let the doctor’s office know that we were running late (embarrassed because I seem to never get anywhere on time anymore) but they were okay with it and said that they were holding our extra-large exam room for us (yes, we have our own room!)

We finally arrived for our appointment, unloaded, and managed to get to the sign-in desk at the doctor’s. I had left an hour early so that we wouldn’t have to rush, and had ended up a whopping fifteen minutes late. Not too bad, considering everything that we had to go through just to get to the appointment!

Banning The Bottle

We received the bad news at our last Doctor’s appointment which was our One-year Well-Baby Appointment. We needed to kick the habit, get on the wagon, join ye-old baby-bottle twelve-step program. The doctor had mandated that we get rid of those much-loved bottles.

These are NOT the words any mother wants to hear. We thought we are doing well just to have arrived at the doctor’s office on time and with all three of the triplets AND the twelve-year old in tow, only to be given THE NEWS. “Bottles are addictive,” we were advised by our pediatrician.

We were advised that we had about a three month window to try and wean the triplets off of theirs before they entered the “Needy” stage which would make it really difficult, in fact, next to impossible, to wean them off of THE BOTTLE without a fight.

Our goal date, June 13th, 2007, the day my trio turns 15 months, was appointed as our day of reckoning. We had to have them all three weaned by this date, or face the horrors, trials and tribulations of trying to wean them during “Their Difficult” stage, as described by our doctor.

What should I do? Where should I start? With my eldest, I just didn’t know any better and I followed the precedent set forth by my mother and let him decide when he was ready to give up his bottle when he was good and ready to. I don’t recall exactly WHEN he gave it up, but I do remember him having it when he was two.

In retrospect, it didn’t seem to harm anything. After all, my baby sister was allowed to have her bottle until she was nearly three. I have a distinct memory of my mother and her best friend loading my sister into her car seat, and me into the back seat of our station wagon next to her, and driving us out into the country just so my baby sister could throw her bottle to the mama cows who had so graciously loaned it to her while she was a baby.

I think they must have made her agree to do this, making her feel like she was giving it to the new baby cows to use for their milk in some attempt ease the transition. She was turning three in April which meant that there were A LOT of baby cows to choose from. My mother actually let her pick the lucky cows, and rolled down the window for her so she could toss it to out the window to them.

Was it effective? I sadly don’t remember. I think we must have had a few tears and a few compromises with her, but over all it helped her transition to the cup.

I really wish my mother was around to help me, but sadly she isn’t, so I would just have to find some way to make this June 13th deadline work for us all on my own. After all, I don’t fancy myself enrolling my trio into the “Bottle’s Anonymous” program at the tender age of 15 months, but that’s basically where my pediatrician insinuated that we would be headed, if my tiny trio didn’t manage to kick their bottle habit.

“What to do, what to do,” I thought. I worried about it while trying to go to sleep at night. I pondered my query while in the shower, and over washing the dishes. Then it finally dawned on me. What was I thinking, worrying about all of this?

I was the weird mommy who had given her children sippy cups to drink juice out of when they were but three months old. Everyone had thought I was crazy, but I was actually desperately trying to find a solution for outings that would keep everyone calm and happy so that I could do the grocery shopping or buy them pajamas at the mall.

I had found cups that had very soft spouts on them (much like the nipples of their bottle so they wouldn’t be terribly confused) and these also had handles that conveniently fit over the sides of our stroller, which meant that they had a place to ride when they weren’t being used. They actually held their sippy cups before they could hold their own bottles. My trio had been used to these cups for over a year now.

I already had the babies acclimated to drinking their milk out of their sippy cups on outings and at mealtimes. All I needed to do was start substituting the sippy cups for their bottles at their “Bottle times” each day. I looked up and found that we were down to only two times a day when we would use bottles, early morning and just before bedtime.

I could do this. I started by eliminating that bedtime bottle. They don’t take it to bed with them anyways, so it wasn’t all that difficult. In fact, now they sometimes just have it with dinner anyways instead of having it in our laps just before bed. I still offer it, just in case, but my trio has let us know that they don’t really have the addiction the doctor warned us about.

We were even able to eliminate the early morning bottle. Did it take a long time to do this? The whole transition actually only occurred over the space of about a week. They were confused at first, but being triplets, they adapted really quickly. Thankfully, it turned out thatthey couldn’t care less if their milk comes in a bottle or a cup.

This Wednesday, we will proudly march into our pediatrician’s office, armed with the knowledge that we have kicked the bottle habit. Our set of fifteen bottles has been boxed up with little fan-faire and is ready and waiting for the next newborn baby who really needs them.

I will save the bottles for my super-duper garage sale that really must be staged soon. I never fancied having to explain to some police officer exactly why it was that I was throwing three bottles to the baby cows, anyways. In today’s times, I probably would have been fined or ticketed for littering, and that would be really hard to explain!

Breaking In the New Stroller

Our new triplet stroller came in the mail on Wednesday. I spent a good bit of time on our front porch assembling it, as we just couldn’t fit it into the living room with everything else! I was so excited over it, that when my son suggested taking it for a spin on Thursday, I agreed.

Armed with a well-packed diaper bag and two insulated bottle bags full of sippy cups, we headed out the door for the day. We were feeling ambitious and had decided to try and take the triplets to see their very first movie.

I headed down to the Boardwalk to check it all out, figuring that we could see a movie and maybe even get some lunch if the triplet’s moods stay happy! I had hopes of not having as much trouble there as we do shopping indoors at Wal-mart or even the mall.

Because it was still really early, (we were shooting for an 11:30 movie) we were able to get a good parking spot right next to the elevators in the parking garage. It was looking really positive at this point!

We managed to get the kids strapped into the new stroller and everything loaded pretty quickly and found that we were even a bit earlier than I had planned. This was great, considering I had only ever been down to the Boardwalk once, when I was first pregnant with the triplets, and hadn’t any clue where anything would be.

Our first obstacle came at the movie theater. I managed to get to the movie theater and get the tickets pretty much problem free and without much question. I say this because usually we are stopped every few feet and inundated with questions about the trio (something I don’t mind, but I do have to allocate extra time when trying to get somewhere that has a time constraint!)

It was the concession stand that would be the interesting part. We don’t go to many movies, and it’s a treat for my 12 year old to get to buy things at the snack counter. He had to have a pretzel, a box of skittles and a drink. I also bought a drink and some popcorn for myself, knowing that I would be sharing with my masses.

The trouble came when we discovered that the movie sized drinks just don’t fit into our cup-holders on the stroller, which was over-laden in the first place with baby gear. I ended up balancing the pretzel and candy on top of the diaper bag which was hanging from the handle of the stroller by means of my purse to keep it from sliding down past the backseat. If we didn’t hit any bumps we would be okay.

The drinks and the enormous bag of popcorn that had started to seep butter ended up having to be split between us. I ended up having to hug the drinks in the crook of my arm so I could push the stroller while Bregon juggled the popcorn, a bunch of napkins, and sippy-cup retrieval duty (the babies think it great fun to toss cups to get people’s attention so they can play with them.)

In spite of a volley of sippy cups, we managed to very slowly find our way to the right auditorium for our movie-we had decided on “Shrek the Third” because it would please everyone. Thankfully, this particular theater had a ramp-an uphill one, but a ramp none-the less!

Next, we found ourselves standing in the middle of the theater, left with a dilemma. We could either sit in the handicap seats, and risk offending someone who was truly handicapped, or we could take the second ramp all the way down to the front of the house and risk the babies getting sensory overload by sitting on the very front row.

I made an executive decision, and decided that because there were two handicapped spots, it would be okay for us to occupy one of them, being that we really didn’t fit anywhere else. I managed to park the behemoth stroller at an angle with the front closest to me, and get the kids situated.

They seemed okay at first, overwhelmed with the huge screen and the cartoons playing on it, but still pretty jovial in spite of the new and alien surroundings. I shelled out teddy grahams to keep the peace and waited for the lights to dim.

Once the previews started, we ran into a small problem. The previews were not as kid-friendly as the movie we were there to see. We did okay through the preview for “Bratz the Movie” and “Nancy Drew,” but once “Transformers” boomed across the screen, my trio hit the ceiling.

The “Transformer’s” preview was full of fire-balls and booming sounds and it made my tiny trio cry. The volume on this particular preview was so loud that nobody else could have possibly heard them crying. Thankfully, it was soon over, and the actual movie began.

Almost immediately, Kian started chanting, “Shrek! Shrek! Shrek!” over and over again with much glee. You have to understand that he is an avid fan of the “Shrek” public service commercial about getting up and brushing your teeth and having breakfast. In some effort to try and be courteous to the rest of the audience, my eldest decided that Kian should sit in his lap so he could try and keep him quiet.

Next, Puss made his appearance on the screen and we were rewarded with Vivie screaming in true cheer-leader mode, “A Cat! A Cat! A Cat!” as if the character needed some sort of pep-talk intro to the audience. She was so excited and so happy, I didn’t have the heart to try and quiet her. Luckily, most of the audience was only about a year or two older than we are and didn’t seem bothered by it!

Overall, we did pretty well. All three babies made it through the whole movie. Of course there were times when I had two sitting in my lap, or when the boys decided they wanted their own seat until Kai got a bit too cuddly for Kian’s taste. Then I finally relented and let Kai and Vivie walk around the stroller while they watched the movie. They only had a few melt-downs and most were over the initial noise, or because they were hungry.

After the movie, we headed cruised our new ride over to Carter’s for some new jammies. We checked out the Build-A-Bear workshop, the arcade and headed over to the toy store. There we acquired two new trucks that light up and make engine noises, and a bubble machine!

All in all, it was a very pleasant outing. We didn’t have as much trouble getting around as we normally do in most shopping venues and we weren’t stopped nearly as much either. The only real problem was the heat. Even with the breeze off of the river, it was still too hot for the babies to stay comfy.

The new stroller has now been christened with juice, teddy grahams, and popcorn. The wheels are covered in dust and there is this spot on the front tray where Kai decided to try and teethe a bit. It now stands in the corner of the living room, waiting to take us on our next adventure.

Each Morning I GETUP GET UP GET UP!!!

Such is the song I am serenaded with EVERY morning by my Good Little Kian Guy, care of the Shrek public service commercial. This morning was no different. If you have ever watched Sprout or Nickelodeon in the morning, chances are, you’ve heard the jingle. My 14 month old has managed to pick it up as his morning mantra somehow.

For some reason, Kian is overly fussy this morning. The past few days his siblings Vivie & Kai have been sleeping in until about 10 each day (why I don’t know-growth spurt maybe?) Who knows?

Anyways, I found myself feeling sorry for the little guy who had systematically and very sadly tossed all of his bedding along with every stuffed animal out of his crib, even his most beloved teddy… So I went ahead and took him into the living room so he could play with his toys by himself a while (a real treat when you must share everything you own with your same-aged siblings!)

Sadly, my other two babies figured out that they were missing out, so I hauled them both into the living room and had to spoil Kian’s little treat. He was okay with it though!

I decided that since I had to spoil his little treat, that we should have something different for breakfast. So, I decided on a nice eggo treat. When you’re one, you find even the most simple of things new and interesting. So I popped a few under the broiler for a few minutes and poured three tiny sippy cups of very cold juice (our favourite!)

As I set three little places for breakfast, three tiny sets of bright eyes followed my every move, a slight anticipation whimper escaping here and there! I announced to my tiny crew that breakfast was on its way, but that it must be cooked first! (Of course they haven’t any clue what that means, just that it seems to take FOREVER!)

Finally, the eggo’s were crispy (not too much so!) and I had them all cut up into tiny baby sized pieces ready to go for yummy breakfast treat goodness! Kai had climbed up to the top of the play-yard gate to watch me divide it up on their tiny trays. I suppose he was making certain that I would divide it equally (it seems that to him, equal means that he gets a little bit extra!)

The anticipation apparently was too much for them, because they all started breaking down into tiny tears because they just couldn’t wait for breakfast! I managed to get the squirmy trio settled into their little chairs and even turned on their favourite cartoon block for them! We are Dora, Diego and Backyardigan people! The world must stop for The Backyardigans! I don’t mind as it’s much more tolerable that Barney and I even have my favourite episodes! It’s very peaceful in my living room now that breakfast is served!

Diapers, Diapers, Everywhere!

One of the biggest expenses that mothers who have multiples will have is that of diapers. In fact, we go through so many diapers, that sometimes I think I should advise all of my friends and family to buy stock in our diaper company.

Before our triplets were born, we could only guess how many diapers we would go through in a day. There just isn't any way to fathom how many a family with multiples will use during the diaper wearing years.

That first week after the babies were born, we would get some idea as to what was to come. Once they were allowed to begin bottle feeding, we were advised to change each baby prior to every feeding as a general rule.

The baby's quickly learned to suck, swallow and breathe all at the same time and were soon on a four hour feeding schedule. This meant that they would eat five times each day and be each changed before given their bottles. That added up to fifteen diapers per day, one hundred and three diapers per week.

Now, if you look at the average amount included in a case of diapers, you might think you have it home-free. Most new mom's find that they go through about a package of diapers per week. If you buy your diapers at a whole-sale club such as Sam's Club, or Costco, you will be getting about 240 diapers/box. Which, in the beginning, should last a triplet mum a little over two weeks providing you are buying preemie sizes at first.

Then, much to your chagrin, you find that preemie sized diapers no longer fit! A mum is happy on the one hand, because it means your trio is growing which is a good sign. On the other hand, you watch as the amount of diapers included in that case of diapers starts to drastically drop. Soon, I found that we were going through about a case a week on the whole.

It's not that the babies are filling them any quicker; it's just that the diaper company's seem to not be able to squeeze in as many diapers as they could when the size was extra-tiny. Hmm... I wonder if maybe it’s because the diaper company's know that there really isn't any alternative or if it’s really all just a matter of space.

I guess you COULD try and potty-train your infant. Most reports say that these people who do try aren't really training the baby to use the potty, but training themselves to know when their kids have to go and how to catch them at just the right moment to get them to the potty on time.

I can't see myself sitting there, staring at my children, trying to read the potty signs on my trio's faces, waiting for the moment to come so that I can rush them to the potty and dangle them precariously over the edge of the seat, trying my best not to accidentally let one slide into the bowl and get their first swirly...It's just not something a mum should initiate her baby to...

Did I mention that my triplets tend to do EVERYTHING together? Yep, you guessed it. Not only are they conditioned from birth to eat at the same time and sleep at the same time, but their tiny bodies become synchronized to go potty at about the same time each day as well.

I get to plan my day around synchronized feedings and their nap-time, and I can even let you know about when to expect the dirty diaper fairy to put in an appearance. Stench times three! It's something, let me tell ya!

I have learned how to make judgments as to which fussy baby needs to be held first, fed first, and even put down for their nap first. I just don't think that I can make that choice as to who gets to be dangled over the potty first, in hopes that one will go quickly enough to allow their siblings to get the same chance at hitting the jackpot as the first triplet did.

I mean, how would you feel if you were conditioned to think that you HAD to use the potty instead of a diaper and your mumsy couldn’t juggle your siblings in time for you to get to use the potty on time and you had an accident in your panties or britches. It would send a horrible message to any child in the same situation.

So, for now, I will remain a faithful slave to my diapers, all one hundred and sixty of them that my case now currently contains. I am going to hold off on potty training until they can walk on their own, understand what it is I am really asking them to do, and are tall enough to actually climb up and sit on the potty all on their own (all stools aside!)

Early Christmas Shopping...Finding the Right Dollie!

I know I seem a bit early, starting my Christmas shopping in June. The new situation, having four kids, demands a bit more planning than starting shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. Last year, I shopped all the summer toy sales and consignment sales for Christmas.

I have since learned that EBay is my friend! I figured this out when, armed with my 20%-off-anything-in-the-store-coupon, I set out to try and buy my baby girl her Christmas dollie. Usually, these come from places like "The White Rabbit" or "Toy Fair"-everyone always gets excited over the red and white striped wrapped presents from "Toy Fair!"

Now, I am very picky when it comes to dollies. My grandmother and mum always made sure Santa remembered to deliver very special dollies under my Christmas tree each year, and I am doing my best to try and stick with tradition.

That day, I scoured the shelves of Toy Fair, hoping that the most wonderful dollie would be there waiting for me. It just wasn't happening. The new "Madame Alexander" collection was out there-I had done my homework on-line before heading out, however none of them seemed just right.

The only one I found that I liked ended up being the same dollie Vivie already has (coincidentally named "Baby") only she was dressed in a christening gown. I was tempted, but I had problems buying the same dollie with a different outfit... (she would know!) So I headed out, sans a Christmas dollie.

The problem wasn't the selection, so much as the fact that the newer dolls just aren't as pretty and nice as the ones we had growing up. I remember my second Christmas (I know what you're thinking-I must be nuts, but seriously I do) and my very own Bye-Lo baby was under my grandmother's Christmas tree in her very own canopied crib.

You have to understand that Bye-Lo is the name of my grandmother's most dearest baby doll (second only to Eloise) and we were all allowed as small children to sit in a chair and carefully hold the 1922 very breakable version of the doll given to my grandmother by her daddy. My grandmother and mum had very carefully helped Santa find one that looked as closely as possible to the original, finding her named as "Madame Alexander's Victoria." This was back around 1975 or so!

Although both my mum, and my grandmother are no longer around to help me, I am doing my best to carry on this tradition...Only "Madame Alexander's Victoria" no longer looks like the original Bye-Lo Baby, or even looks like the ones my sister and I received as children. I have both baby's in my china cabinet to compare them to, and they just aren't the same anymore for some reason.

This left me with a dilemma. How do I find the right baby doll? I finally broke down and got on-line and begin to search. I don't know what we ever did without EBay. There you can find the original breakable Bye-Lo's and I was even lucky enough to find a "Victoria" doll about the same era as the one I had as a child!

It only took about a week total, and I have managed to acquire two baby dolls for Vivie for Christmas- yes, one is a miniature version of my Bye-Lo Baby doll, the more modern "Victoria" circa 1975 and she is in perfect condition, smells like new (yes there is a distinctive new baby doll smell!) and is dressed in her little pink linen dress with her panties and booties still in tact! The other dollie is called "Madame Alexander's Little Sailor Pink Dumpling" and she was only $5.99 + shipping. Both baby's are much prettier and nicer than the current collection available in the area stores.

Funnier still, during my search for Vivie's perfect Christmas dollie, I ran across little sailor boy versions of "Huggums" dolls for my baby boys. Now everyone will have a Christmas dollie! I know that you are probably thinking that little boys shouldn't play with dollies- but when you have a baby girl the same age, it helps for everyone to have something similar to avoid conflict & perpetuate happiness! This Christmas should be very interesting and my shopping has only just begun!

Camping Supplies & Triplets @ Target!

Today we had to make a Target run to stock up on camp things for my eldest. He will leave in about a week for Camp Pioneer, a boyscout camp in Arkansas for a whole week's vacation from his siblings and family!

Being a typical pre-teen/tween kinda guy, he has his own little quirks and idiosyncrasies such as his habit of wanting to wear only jeans during the very hot and sweltering Louisiana summers and wearing any t-shirt that he has discovered hanging in his closet such as the very nice, very new yet long sleeved green army shirt that he decided to try and wear out yesterday.

Hmm... I really have to do some convincing and get him to change his wardrobe over to normal summer clothes somehow. So, off to Target we went, triplets, stroller, 12 year old and all.

I did manage to get him to pick out several pairs of very long, what I would label as "Skater" shorts as they are worn way past his knees (skaters wear these in some hopes of not skinning their knees!) He even found a few t-shirts that would do that weren't too suggestive as he tends to shop in the men's department for his very scrawny size 12 (10 to you & I who would go by his size, not his age.)

I asked him what he wished he would have had last year that he didn't, and was rewarded with the totally knew revelation that this camp does have electricity and that he needed a FAN because there just wasn't any breeze up there in the mountains. So I actually bought him a tiny fan for his camping trunk.

We headed over to pick up a few things from the frozen section after we finished our camping supply hunting foray. We were just about to debate over the finer points of fish sticks as a new food for the babies, when someone came running up, asking, "Are you the lady with triplets?"
As I turned around, I was met with a very happy very bright shining face that said, "I have a set too!"

It was really nifty. This lady had heard from other customers and staff that we were shopping with our triplets (the Target staff pretty much know us by now!) and had come looking for us! She indeed is the proud mumsy of girl, girl, boy triplets and appears to have a child very close in age to my son as well. It was really neat to get to meet a family so very like my own!

Hi, Michelle! I couldn't resist writing about this! I was very fortunate to get to meet you and your triplets in Target, our favourite place to have a triplet convention (we have met at least four sets that ways, all of different ages) Until yesterday, however, I had never run into anyone anywhere close to my age. Hopefully, we will get together again and have more time to talk and get to know each other!

I don't know why it is, but at Target it would seem you can get everything that you need, all in the same shopping excursion and sometimes, just sometimes, a little bit more.

Today, I gathered camping supplies for my eldest, three tiny sun hats and sets of sandals for the triplets to wear to the park, one very super huge fabric covered ball for the triplets, and a new friend with a set of triplets and a family that is very much like mine. Who could ask for a better shopping excursion?