Because, because, because . . .

I don't want this to be a place where I always blow sunshine and roses up your . . . well you know whats. While we have many crazy beautiful days, we have bad days too. They usually start with A and M rising early and waking S. When S gets woken before she's ready, there is much thrashing about and gnashing of the teeth. She wakes up like her mommy does.

Anyway, it was one of those days yesterday. A and M woke early and were playing nicely, albeit, loudly in their room. They were pretending A's bed was an oven and they were baking chocolate cakes in it. I listened from bed for a while before sitting up with a start and bounding wildly into their room, hoping against hope, these "chocolate cakes" weren't poop. They weren't, but my crazed entrance into the room, startled S awake. She.Was.Not.Happy.

Because of the early wake up call, I wasn't able to shower before our day got started. I had grand plans of painting, stamping, coloring and stickering a 7 foot Happy Birthday banner for my dad's 60th birthday. We made funfetti cupcakes with pink, green and blue icing. We picked up R's shirts at the dry cleaners, bought balloons at the Party Store and had a picnic lunch all before 12:30.

Let me say that some days are bad because the Salad dumps yogurt on each others heads or fights over who gets to wear the Cinderella underwear. But some days are bad because I am wiped out. Yesterday, my energy level could not keep up with my gaggle of soon-to-be 3 year olds. Plus, I was cranky because I hadn't showered. I usually sit for a bit while they nap and watch mindless TV (ie Project Runway, Ugly Betty) and get ready for the second wave. But yesterday, I cleaned up after our morning projects and got ready to drive to my parents and break into their house to decorate for a birthday surprise. I did wash, I figured out dinner, I got their jammies ready for bed, I swept the kitchen, I refilled sippy cups, I cleared the floor in the playroom so we could do gymnastics, you get the idea. Instead, I should have showered.

By the time R got home, I was done. I had given them bathes and am a tad ashamed to admit, I felt resentful that they were clean and I wasn't. I finally took a shower and rehashed how grumpy I had been. I realized it was smart I had waited to shower until they had a chaperon. I think it was one of those days where they would have formulated a plan to cut my toes with butter knives, ambush me & nibble at my knee caps or poke my eyes with pipe cleaners & crayons. Because I had been cranky. Because I hadn't showered. Because they woke up early.

Happy Birthday, Poppy! Thanks for loving us like you do!

We had Ourselves a Merry Little Christmas

Lest you think, due to lack of posting, that we didn't celebrate Christmas, rest assured we did. The best Christmas in 4 years in fact. Of course, last year my dad was in the hospital, and the year before that the Salad screamed every time wrapping paper got torn from a present and the year before that I was in the hospital with preterm labor, so yeah, best Christmas in 4 years. And we were blessed to have R home with us for 12 WHOLE DAYS!

We jammed a ton of fun into those 12 days.

We braved freezing temperatures at Hershey Park.

We braved the crowds at Aquarium.

We braved new heights at the Please Touch Museum on 12/31.
But the most important memories are the little ones, dressing up like princesses, the Salad's first experience eating duck, S asking Santa for "the game where balls go in the dinosaurs mouths" (or Hungry, Hungry Hippo, as you may know it), receiving The Gruffalo which has quickly become our go-to book.

I keep remembering this conversation with A while we were sitting in the car in Trader Joe's parking lot. It was a perfectly clear, very cold, slightly windy winter morning. I wanted to stay in the car until Jingle Bell Rock had finished playing on the radio. M was content to look out for the trolley which frequents State Street, S was rocking out to the music with me and A discovered we had parked in front of a bush that was still in bloom with some pretty pink flowers. They caught her eye because they were moving in the wind.

A: "Mommy, see those pink flowers, Mommy?"

Me: "I do see them, babydoll."

A: "Pink is my favorite color."

Me: "I know it is. You love pink."

A: "Mommy, see those pink flowers dancing, Mommy?"

Me: "I do see them dancing, A."

A: "Mommy, are those pink flowers dancing to Jingle Bell Rock?"

Me: "They just might be, sweetie, they just might be."

July 30th, 2009

I wrote this post in the summer and for some reason never posted it. I probably was looking for a picture to post along side. The post still needs a picture, but we got a new computer and I haven't spent the time figuring out how to do so. Rereading it made me realize the amazing thing about blogging. Writing helps you remember very specific moments of life. Not necessarily the big ones, like getting engaged or finding out you have 3 babies in there, but the little ones.

Great things about today:
1. R went into work late, meaning I got to leave the house for a Starbuck's Grande Iced Mocha. Yes. Of course, it was non-fat. And no whip.
2. R got home from work early.
3. R brought me home gravy fries for lunch. I had already had a salad. The lettuce kind of salad. Not the children kind of Salad. I ate the fries anyway.
4. I got to see the Salad ride tricycles for the first time. R found an awesome deal on Kettler trikes on Craig's List. We picked them up from another triplet mom today.
5. When we left the park after "teaching" the Salad to ride said tricycles, A told me she "had a great time."
6. As I was brushing S's teeth before bed, A told me she "luffed my hair in a pony."

Not so great things about today;
1. I accidentally ripped the beautiful old knob from our beautiful old front door. And had to have a lock smith come and replace it with a less nice, brand spanking new knob. Boo on new.
2. It was very hot outside.

13 ways to be a better Me

I do not make New Year's resolutions. However, I adore new beginnings. I wake up everyday thinking to myself, "Well, it's a new day. I can be a better mom to the Salad today." And I really do try to do that . . . although I am the first to admit, I know I could be better. So I try again the next day. And so on and so forth.

Anywho, my 9 faithful followers, I offer you my new beginning. In all of it's mundane minutiae. My list of things I want to accomplish. I will try to do everything, not to be bogged down in deliberation of what to do first.

Take life less seriously.*
Find gymnastics class Salad will enjoy.
Take better care of myself.
Design ideal laundry room.
Introduce Beatles music to the Salad.
Clean behind bar.
Find inexpensive free standing bar.
Organize audio/visual equipment.
Remind my friends they are important to me.
Make Julia Child's Beef Bourguinon.
Curl my eyelashes everyday.
Be more dedicated to making Artscape, Inc. a success.
Develop simple preschool home school curriculum for Salad.
Serve my family selflessly.

* Thank you, Indigo Girls, for that sentiment.


There you have it. You are holding me accountable now because I put this out there into the universe.

Giving Thanks, where Thanks is due

I have been missing in action for a while now. My creativity stifled by a broken computer and shoddy Internet service on an ancient laptop. And so there will be no pictures. Sad day, I know.

I wanted to come and say some words of thanks, though. 2 days after Thanksgiving, but these are things I'm thankful for always, so today will do just fine . . .

I am thankful for a husband who rarely sweats the small stuff.

I am thankful for a daughter who embraces her role as protective big sister, even if older only by 1 minute.

I am thankful for a son who always wakes up with a huge smile on his face and with hugs for his sisters, as though it's been years since their last visit.

I am thankful for my sweet baby S, who gently reminds me to "be nice, momma" when I begin to lose my patience.

I am thankful for a mother who still will drop everything to make me homemade lentil soup when I am sick.

I am thankful for a father who will patiently play choo-choos for hours with his grand Salad.

I am thankful for an older sister and BIL who joyfully invite us into their home and turn blind eyes, as we meticulously destroy their house, one room at a time.

I am thankful for a 10 year old nephew whose Christmas list included a robot and a Grow-your-own-Venus-Fly-Trap kit.

I am thankful for a younger sister who threw her self respect into the ocean and ran a kite down the beach on a day without wind, to make her nieces and nephew happy.

I am thankful for a BIL who makes R and I laugh so hard during Scatergories that we often can't catch our breath.

I am thankful for a SIL who wants to keep cousins close.

I am thankful for 2 beautiful nieces, who teach the Salad by example.

I am thankful for old friends who brought me magazines and chapstick while I was on bedrest, who came weekly - coffee in hand - to feed babies, who left diapers and dinners on my doorstep, who bring pumpkin cheesecakes and macaroons, and for new friends who understand that having 3 toddlers can bring you to your knees some days.

And while it seems sad to be thankful for the people who no longer are with me on this journey, I am thankful for the reminder to live a life with no regrets.

A plea

Dear blankets,

While I love that you keep 30 toes warm, I hate that you fall off in the night. I hate even more that 30 toes then get cold and owners of those toes cry out "Put my blanket on!" And then I have to get out from under my warm blanket (which incidentally does not fall off - please take some lessons) and go put 3 blankets back on 30 toes. Come on, blankets, do your job, for crying out loud! I am tired!

Thank you in advance,
A

Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.

You know that expression "peace and quiet"? I don't get it. I don't get the expression and I don't get "peace and quiet". There are moments when there is peace. But even peaceful moments here aren't quiet. Let's say, I need everyone to stay downstairs while I cook dinner. I may turn on Dora the Explorer. And everyone may sit still, but 3 minutes into the episode 3 soon-to-be-3 years olds are shouting, "Swiper, no swiping!" at the TV. So peace, but no quiet. Get it?

The other evening, R took the Salad downstairs after dinner, while I cleaned up the kitchen. I was so caught up in loading the dishwasher, I barely noticed as S quietly plodded up the stairs and plopped herself down at the kitchen table. She knelt on a chair and hunched over a Color Wonders coloring book that she had brought up with her. I watched her for a few minutes. My first inclination was to take advantage of the time I had with only one ingredient and strike up a conversation, but I caught myself. It was so quiet in the room, I could hear her marker scribbling on the paper. She looked intent on turning Tinkerbell pink. She looked calm. S had plodded up those steps looking for some peace.

And quiet.