Sunday, August 30, 2009

Peter Pan's Worst Fear

Translation - growing up.

There are many days, in the middle of someone's 19th tantrum, I wish this year of "terrible twos" away. Many days, I want to cry in defeat. And then the night comes and our home is quiet enough for me to think clearly again. And in those hours, I want this year to last a lifetime.

Because I realize I will be sad the day my son stops "earing the miscadas in the backnard" (translation - hearing the cicadas in the backyard.)

In 14 years, when my oldest girl is bored by the sight of me, I will long for the days that she squeals with delight "I so exciting!" (translation - I'm so excited!) when I offer to paint her toenails pink.

I know I'll feel lost when my baby girl can independently dress herself, when I won't need to tell her that her "cocks" (translation - crocs) are on the wrong feet and when she'll stop putting both legs through the same hole in her big girl undies. There will come a time, when after I fix these things for her, she won't say "Ca ca, Mommy" (translation - Thank you, Mommy.)

Someday, the Salad won't call every rabbit they see the Easter Bunny. They won't be enthralled by seeing an airplane or hearing a train whistle or watching a tow truck take Poppy's car away. They won't tell me that I'm pretty when my hair is wet. They won't ask me to kiss their boo-boos. They won't panic if I leave their room for the night and forget to cover them with their blanket or position their frog just so on his pillow. Someday, I'll have to do more than take them to a pet store to entertain them for a morning. The girls will realize it's not socially acceptable for them to wear M's big boy undies, even if they do have Elmo on them. Someday, S will understand the quizzical looks she gets when she puts together her own outfit. And worse yet, she may care about those looks enough to stop dressing the way she wants to. Ok. Maybe that last one isn't such a bad thing.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Elmo did what?!

The Salad loves Elmo. See?

The Salad also love their pacifiers. See?

One day, Elmo came to visit the Salad during dinner.
He was bigger than they expected and they were scared. See?
But then Elmo gave them treats in exchange for their pacifiers.
And the Salad loved him again. See?

Monday, August 17, 2009


Dear M,

I am sorry that I yelled at you right before bedtime tonight.

I am sorry that my calm didn't hold out just 5 minutes longer.

I am sorry that more often than not my frustration seems infinite and my patience seems finite.

I am sorry that many times I fail to be the mommy I long to be.

I am sorry that even though I said to stop, you persisted in shoving your crib into your sisters.

I am sorry that I almost cried when seconds later you looked me straight in the eye, with your big, serious, innocent expression and asked me to sing "Happy Birthday, Jellybeans" while I brushed your teeth. I choked back the tears as I sang, because suddenly I realized how fleeting the time is that you will let me brush your teeth, let alone sing to candy while I do so.

Because look how much you've grown up in just the past 2 years.

I love you, little buddy.


Saturday, August 15, 2009

Sweet Exchanges

Last week, Ian brought over a toy whose base unit has a camera that plugs into the TV and allowed the Salad to sit at their picnic table and watch themselves eat lunch right in our living room. They were tickled pink. Which incidentally is A's favorite color. After the toy was unplugged, M was content to just carry it all over the house. But he's a small boy and there was a cord, so it was downright unruly to lug around. He's crafty though, and recruited help. I watched from the top of the steps as M carried the base unit, A got the middle of the cord and S followed behind, keeping the end of the cord from tripping them up. When they reached the top of the steps safely, M exclaimed enthusiastically, "Great job, everybodies!"

To ease the strain of potty training, we keep potties strewn about the house. 3 in the hall upstairs, 3 in the kitchen and 3 in our playroom. Earlier in the week, S and I were having a catch in the playroom when suddenly she stopped, dropped her drawers and peed on the potty. A happened by while S was cleaning up, peeked in the potty and like the proud big sister, patted S on the back. "Awesome," she said. "Really awesome, S!"

Friday, Aunt J, Unka By and Ian asked us to go watch planes take off and land at a small airport in West Chester. We were glad to oblige. A is still wary in large crowds of people and pressed me for info on the way to Aunt J's.
A: "Lots of peoples there, Mommy?"
Me: "I'm not really sure A. There may be, but you will be surrounded by people who love you, like Aunt J, Unka By, Ian and Mommy. And you will always, always, always have your brother and sister to care for you."
I looked in the rear view mirror to see if my answer had calmed her apprehension about our adventure. I saw sweet S reach for A's hand. She held it for a while and softly said, "Yep."
I saw peace and gratitude come to A. She wanted to let S know she appreciated her gesture. A shoved her almost empty bag of Pringles sticks at S and asked, "You want my last sticks, S?" S gobbled them down quickly, before A could change her mind.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

And so it goes . . .

that babies don't keep. They grow up. Too fast. I know everyone says it. But I have never one day in the last 2 years, 6 months, and 5 days felt it as deeply as I do today. I have never longed for the nights during early infancy when I woke every 1.5 hours to feed 3 very tiny babies. I have never wished the pre-walking days back, for I only have 2 arms and could never carry all of my babies at once. I have never regretted that I couldn't wait for their 1st birthday to come, so I could stop making gallons of formula and cleaning 24 bottles a day. But lately, the winds of change are blowing in our house. They are blowing so strongly and in my face, that I am gasping for air and wiping tears from my eyes.

No pacifiers, no diapers and no cribs anymore. Where have my babies gone?

Monday, August 10, 2009

Falls and Firsts

We had a busy week and except for a definite lack of napping, it was a pretty darn good one.

Two Saturdays ago, R and I took the Salad to Longwood Gardens. They have an Indoor Children's Garden where little ones can splash in fun fountains and pick flowers. They ask only that you refrain from splashing in display fountains and picking flowers anywhere else in the facility. We hadn't gotten 100 feet into the grounds before M tripped and fell. You guessed it. Right into one of the display fountains. Fear not, no flowers were picked.
Monday, we went to the Please Touch Museum. Tuesday, my mom and I took them to the Little Treehouse. The Salad had a great time playing with all the wooden toys and snacking on mini soft "petzels" (as S calls them). The day was going swimmingly. Until M kinda had a fall. Scrapping his hands and knees. On the concrete. Fear not, he didn't get hurt. At least, that's what I told him.

Wednesday, R took off from work and we took the Salad to their first movie. We made it about 40 minutes into "Horton hears a Who" before we had to leave. Not too shabby. It was a day of firsts, as we also took them to dine in our favorite Mexican restaurant. They split Pollo Asada. A couldn't shovel the rice in fast enough. She's a girl after my own heart.

Thursday, I went into the office to work for a while and my mom, sister and Ian watched the Salad. They dressed up as pirates, complete with eye patches. Sounded like they had a nice day. Except that S kinda had a fall. At naptime. Out of her crib. Fear not, she didn't get hurt. At least, that's what I'm being told.

Friday, we had a pool playdate in the morning. It wore the Salad out, because they finally took a lovely 2.5 hour nap, during which time I indulged in gossip and an early happy hour with Meglet, my high school friend who stopped over to visit. The Salad loved seeing her, except that A kinda had a fall. Down the steps. Onto her head. Fear not, she didn't get hurt. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

So to recap, lots of falls and lots of firsts. Including the first time I've ever spoken the words, "Do not touch my piano with your penis fingers" and "You may use your sister's foot as a microphone, but I do not want to see you bite her toes again."

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Glimpses of the Future

Last Friday, R took off to get some rest from a marathon 30 hour work day. Of course, such it was that rather than rest, he took the minivan to get it's window fixed, brought home Starbucks (Iced Mocha for me and Banana Strawberry Viviano for the babies), made 37 trips to the potty with various and sundry 2 year olds, and put together the Adirondack chairs that I had purchased earlier in the week. At one point, M was assisting R by handing him tools and I was painting the girls' toenails fuchsia and braiding their hair. It was a glimpse of the future that even from the trenches of toddlerhood, looked pretty sweet.
Saturday, we were invited to our triplet boy friends' 2nd birthday party. We had fun splashing and sliding and riding and climbing. One the way home, though, the Salad got a little rammy and at one point the 3 of them were chanting in unison, "Playground! Playground!" R looked at me with panic and amusement and said "They're starting to join forces to rise up against us." That glimpse of the future, on the other hand, looks more than a little scary.