"To maintain a joyful family requires much from both the parents and the children. Each member of the family has to become, in a special way, the servant of the others." Pope John Paul II
AHA! I think I've just figured out the answer to all the problems in our house! I'm the only servant!
All kidding aside, because I have the greatest respect for Pope John Paul, I completely understand what he meant. We should all serve and help each other to be a well-functioning family. Just try explaining that to a 15 year old who sees chores as a punishment. Or a 13 year old who's tired of helping with her little brothers (who can blame her). Or telling an 8 year old who has shared everything with his brothers since the womb, to share his new toy with his brothers.
I know my kids don't understand now, but this is one of the main reasons I bring them to church. I want them to know that we serve something greater than ourselves, or even each other. That it is our responsibility while we're on God's good earth to make it a better place and live our lives as honest, respectable people. I especially want them to know how important it is to cherish your family and to always support each other.
Religion is a difficult thing for a young child to grasp. My little guys are preparing for their first holy communion, so I'm glad they've been asking questions for the past few years. Things like "why does Jesus where those flipflops?" And "is there a mailbox in heaven so you can write letters to people after they die?" Now they are anticipating receiving the "holy cracker" in the spring.
Next, I hope to teach them to "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". Wonder how that will go...
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Thanks, But No Thanks
I still haven't sent out thank you cards for the triplets' birthday party in November. Or maybe I should be more honest and say I'm not going to. The window of opportunity has probably passed. Three months - probably people have forgotten that I didn't send a thank you. I certainly don't want to remind them now of how long it took me to get around to it.
I had good intentions of sending thank yous. I even have the cards made just for kids where they fill in the blanks: "Dear _______, thank for the awesome _____________, Your Friend, __________." Or something along those lines. Three blanks to fill in, seems easy, but you know, for us that's 3 X 3 X however many gifts there were, and it all gets overwhelming.
Maybe I should have done them right away, but between November and December I have all 5 kids birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, holiday parties, birthday parties. Things get a little hectic.
I strongly believe in the good character it shows to send out thank yous, but I also know what I do (and probably most of you do, too) when my own kids receive a thank you card. I read it and recycle it right away.
So I want today's blog to express my gratitude to all the people who took the time to buy my boys thoughtful gifts and sent their kids to our party. Your gift was very much appreciated and enjoyed and I hope you will excuse my bad manners.
I remain,
scatteredmomof5
XOXO
I had good intentions of sending thank yous. I even have the cards made just for kids where they fill in the blanks: "Dear _______, thank for the awesome _____________, Your Friend, __________." Or something along those lines. Three blanks to fill in, seems easy, but you know, for us that's 3 X 3 X however many gifts there were, and it all gets overwhelming.
Maybe I should have done them right away, but between November and December I have all 5 kids birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, holiday parties, birthday parties. Things get a little hectic.
I strongly believe in the good character it shows to send out thank yous, but I also know what I do (and probably most of you do, too) when my own kids receive a thank you card. I read it and recycle it right away.
So I want today's blog to express my gratitude to all the people who took the time to buy my boys thoughtful gifts and sent their kids to our party. Your gift was very much appreciated and enjoyed and I hope you will excuse my bad manners.
I remain,
scatteredmomof5
XOXO
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Morning Pee Times Three
"Morning pee x 3" - that's the note I left myself last night so I'd remember to collect the triplets' urine samples for their yearly checkup at the pediatrician today. I started thinking back to doctor visits with the three of them over the years.
I must admit the first few years of their lives are a bit of a blurry memory to me. I remember their early doctor visits being the only time they ever left the house. Three heart monitors, three infant car seats, one large diaper bag - their two older siblings coming along for the adventure. My husband and I would start a production line - he would undress one baby to begin his exam, then start undressing the next, I'd hand the first guy back to be re-dressed and one of our doctor's amazing staff members would take the boys as they finished being examined and give them bottles so we could finish up with the others.
Shot time was a nightmare - their doctor would come in with 2 nurses and 6 needles ready to go (at one particularly memorable visit, they received 3 shots each). Three screaming babies, five sweating adults. Forget flu shot time when all 5 kids go at the same time, all afraid of needles.
We'd weigh and measure, so excited when they finally made it onto the charts to even be compared to their peers to find which percentile they were in. Tiny little boys with big personalities, reaching all of their milestones late - my husband and I so relieved when they finally rolled, crawled, walked, talked.
With our first two kids, percentiles were so important to us. He was consistently 75th percentile, she was consistently 25th percentile. I read "What to Expect - The Toddler Years" every month to be sure they were where they were supposed to be. With the triplets, I quickly got rid of the book - it was clearly not going to apply to this situation. There were no books to tell us what to expect, so we took their development one day at a time.
At their last yearly checkup, two were average height and weight, one is in the 75th percentile. What a cause for celebration! They are little fighters - I think back to when they were first born, so tiny and fragile in their incubators. I would sit in a rocker beside them, thinking ahead to when they were all running around laughing and playing together. I try to always keep those early, uncertain days in mind so that I am sure to appreciate the crazy beehive our house is today.
I must admit the first few years of their lives are a bit of a blurry memory to me. I remember their early doctor visits being the only time they ever left the house. Three heart monitors, three infant car seats, one large diaper bag - their two older siblings coming along for the adventure. My husband and I would start a production line - he would undress one baby to begin his exam, then start undressing the next, I'd hand the first guy back to be re-dressed and one of our doctor's amazing staff members would take the boys as they finished being examined and give them bottles so we could finish up with the others.
Shot time was a nightmare - their doctor would come in with 2 nurses and 6 needles ready to go (at one particularly memorable visit, they received 3 shots each). Three screaming babies, five sweating adults. Forget flu shot time when all 5 kids go at the same time, all afraid of needles.
We'd weigh and measure, so excited when they finally made it onto the charts to even be compared to their peers to find which percentile they were in. Tiny little boys with big personalities, reaching all of their milestones late - my husband and I so relieved when they finally rolled, crawled, walked, talked.
With our first two kids, percentiles were so important to us. He was consistently 75th percentile, she was consistently 25th percentile. I read "What to Expect - The Toddler Years" every month to be sure they were where they were supposed to be. With the triplets, I quickly got rid of the book - it was clearly not going to apply to this situation. There were no books to tell us what to expect, so we took their development one day at a time.
At their last yearly checkup, two were average height and weight, one is in the 75th percentile. What a cause for celebration! They are little fighters - I think back to when they were first born, so tiny and fragile in their incubators. I would sit in a rocker beside them, thinking ahead to when they were all running around laughing and playing together. I try to always keep those early, uncertain days in mind so that I am sure to appreciate the crazy beehive our house is today.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
The Heart of Valentine's Day
I find Valentine's Day to be a really strange 'holiday'. I think the people who enjoy it the most are kids 10 and under and new couples. While I was at the Shoprite today, I heard a few people wish each other a happy Valentine's Day - odd to me.
My 8 year old triplets think it's great - they decorated Valentine boxes for school and wrote out Valentines for their classes. We attached a lollipop to each card, even though you're not supposed to send in candy because of food allergies. The problem with that is if you are a parent who follows the rules, then your kid is looked at like a cheapskate for just giving out cards. There are also always a few moms who put the rest of us to shame by making little Valentine goodie bags for their kid's classmates. No way am I doing that for 75 kids, no matter how much my boys beg!
For a new couple, Valentines Day can make or break their relationship. Young women are conditioned to want candy and flowers, a romantic card and dinner. I've seen desperate men of all ages standing wide-eyed in the card aisle realizing that picking the right card is going to seal their fate for the rest of February.
My mother told me today that Valentine's Day annoys her. I get it. Practical, grown-up women realize that it's an over-hyped tradition - restaurants are crowded and rushed, roses are over-priced, candy is no good for us. Sometimes we even tell our husbands not to waste their money. We really don't mean it - who doesn't love flowers and a mushy card?
Then I think of my 88 year old grandmother on Valentines Day, her sweetheart long gone. And single friends who can't help but feel like they're missing something. Or mothers like me, who tonight will be doing the same things we do every other school night - homework, carting kids to activities, making dinner.
A few years ago, when all of the kids were finally in school full time, my honey and I finally seemed to find the right balance for Valentines Day. We have a nice, leisurely lunch at a local restaurant and spend the afternoon together. After school, we greet our 5 sweethearts with candy and dinner at home with a special dessert. For me, that's the meaning of Valentines Day - spending it with my family who truly fill my heart with love and happiness.
My 8 year old triplets think it's great - they decorated Valentine boxes for school and wrote out Valentines for their classes. We attached a lollipop to each card, even though you're not supposed to send in candy because of food allergies. The problem with that is if you are a parent who follows the rules, then your kid is looked at like a cheapskate for just giving out cards. There are also always a few moms who put the rest of us to shame by making little Valentine goodie bags for their kid's classmates. No way am I doing that for 75 kids, no matter how much my boys beg!
For a new couple, Valentines Day can make or break their relationship. Young women are conditioned to want candy and flowers, a romantic card and dinner. I've seen desperate men of all ages standing wide-eyed in the card aisle realizing that picking the right card is going to seal their fate for the rest of February.
My mother told me today that Valentine's Day annoys her. I get it. Practical, grown-up women realize that it's an over-hyped tradition - restaurants are crowded and rushed, roses are over-priced, candy is no good for us. Sometimes we even tell our husbands not to waste their money. We really don't mean it - who doesn't love flowers and a mushy card?
Then I think of my 88 year old grandmother on Valentines Day, her sweetheart long gone. And single friends who can't help but feel like they're missing something. Or mothers like me, who tonight will be doing the same things we do every other school night - homework, carting kids to activities, making dinner.
A few years ago, when all of the kids were finally in school full time, my honey and I finally seemed to find the right balance for Valentines Day. We have a nice, leisurely lunch at a local restaurant and spend the afternoon together. After school, we greet our 5 sweethearts with candy and dinner at home with a special dessert. For me, that's the meaning of Valentines Day - spending it with my family who truly fill my heart with love and happiness.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
This Triplet Moms Perspective of "America's Super Nanny" Triplet Episode Aired Feb. 7, 2012
Last night, after my daughter finished watching "Dance Moms" (frightening!) on Lifetime, I was about to turn off the TV when the upcoming episode of "America's Super Nanny" caught my attention. The episode centered around the Gregg Family of Ohio - an average mom and dad, with 6 year old triplet boys, a 4 year old boy and a 1 year old girl. "Look, Mom, TRIPLET BOYS - and they have 4 boys and 1 girl, just like us! We HAVE to watch", said my only daughter, clearly hoping that "America's Super Nanny" would share her wisdom and solve all our family's issues.
I usually hate watching nanny shows - once my kids are tucked safely into bed and the house is quiet, I don't have much interest in seeing another family's chaotic, desperate life. Also, these TV super-nannies can really make a normal parent feel thoroughly inadequate.
But this family seemed kind of familiar - the parents indicated that they just tried to survive each day without going to the hospital. (During a particularly rough patch a few years ago, our triplets visited the ER 7 times in an 18 month period.) The nanny (Debra) was astonished that the mom's expectations are so low that she only hopes for survival. (Been there, done that!) This poor mother was just giving up, often laughing to keep from crying. The nanny walked around saying things like "This is crazy!" and "This is a free-for-all". Then she said "if I lived in this house I would be cuckoo", and with a sympathic "I pray you get some sleep", she left for the quiet comfort of a hotel.
The next day she came back for a "Reality Check", where she confirmed for the parents what they already suspected - the children controlled the discipline and had no fear of their parents. She then set up some house rules that look really good on paper - stay in your bed, 1 warning followed by 3 minutes in the calm down corner as a form of discipline, and a large bell that the parents were to ring to demand the children return to them when they run away, and NO YELLING because the children were just not listening to the yelling. Debra the Nanny said that the kids are hungry for discipline and the parents must be united and consistent to regain authority.
The mom admits that she hasn't taken them out alone for 3 years because they run away. The Nanny plans a trip to the supermarket, which the mom calls her "worst nightmare". (I hear ya, sister!) They are required to use the buddy system, paired up by 2's and must hold hands. They are given black belts - if they are bad they will be taken away, if they are good they will get a series of white stripes added to their belt that all add up to a reward. I need to talk to Mrs. Gregg - her boys seemed even rougher than my own and the belt reward system would never fly here.
At home, the mother was instructed on how to use the Calm Down Corner as a discipline method. The parent is to remain straight faced and calm, no yelling, because we should model the behavior we want for our children. This poor woman eventually defeated her 4 year old, who escaped from the Calm Down Corner 105 times! I repeat - 105 escapes - enough to bring the strongest man to his knees!
The Nanny returns at a later date to see if the "wild family has been tamed or if chaos continues". It appears to the camera that the Nanny has performed a miracle and the family is now living by her rules.
I really don't mean to mock the Nanny. I just know first hand what it's like to raise triplets (+2). There is a unique dynamic that exists within a set of triplet brothers. A good friend of mine once lovingly compared my boys to a litter of puppies. She's right - they're really cute, full of energy and they destroy my house. Things get broken, or spilled, or someone gets hurt, and they blame it on each other. It's hard to get to the bottom of things, so sometimes everyone gets punished for one guys bad deed, or everyone gets off the hook because there's simply not enough evidence to convict one of them.
I would like to offer Mrs. Gregg some hope - my boys are 8 now and have matured so much from where she is now. They still fight and break things, but they are becoming independent and responsible for their own actions. We're onto the next step - heavy competition - who's smarter, faster, taller, funnier, etc. Instead of working as one crazed mob, they are becoming their own individual people. I really consider it a blessing and an honor to be the mother of this unique group of little people!
I usually hate watching nanny shows - once my kids are tucked safely into bed and the house is quiet, I don't have much interest in seeing another family's chaotic, desperate life. Also, these TV super-nannies can really make a normal parent feel thoroughly inadequate.
But this family seemed kind of familiar - the parents indicated that they just tried to survive each day without going to the hospital. (During a particularly rough patch a few years ago, our triplets visited the ER 7 times in an 18 month period.) The nanny (Debra) was astonished that the mom's expectations are so low that she only hopes for survival. (Been there, done that!) This poor mother was just giving up, often laughing to keep from crying. The nanny walked around saying things like "This is crazy!" and "This is a free-for-all". Then she said "if I lived in this house I would be cuckoo", and with a sympathic "I pray you get some sleep", she left for the quiet comfort of a hotel.
The next day she came back for a "Reality Check", where she confirmed for the parents what they already suspected - the children controlled the discipline and had no fear of their parents. She then set up some house rules that look really good on paper - stay in your bed, 1 warning followed by 3 minutes in the calm down corner as a form of discipline, and a large bell that the parents were to ring to demand the children return to them when they run away, and NO YELLING because the children were just not listening to the yelling. Debra the Nanny said that the kids are hungry for discipline and the parents must be united and consistent to regain authority.
The mom admits that she hasn't taken them out alone for 3 years because they run away. The Nanny plans a trip to the supermarket, which the mom calls her "worst nightmare". (I hear ya, sister!) They are required to use the buddy system, paired up by 2's and must hold hands. They are given black belts - if they are bad they will be taken away, if they are good they will get a series of white stripes added to their belt that all add up to a reward. I need to talk to Mrs. Gregg - her boys seemed even rougher than my own and the belt reward system would never fly here.
At home, the mother was instructed on how to use the Calm Down Corner as a discipline method. The parent is to remain straight faced and calm, no yelling, because we should model the behavior we want for our children. This poor woman eventually defeated her 4 year old, who escaped from the Calm Down Corner 105 times! I repeat - 105 escapes - enough to bring the strongest man to his knees!
The Nanny returns at a later date to see if the "wild family has been tamed or if chaos continues". It appears to the camera that the Nanny has performed a miracle and the family is now living by her rules.
I really don't mean to mock the Nanny. I just know first hand what it's like to raise triplets (+2). There is a unique dynamic that exists within a set of triplet brothers. A good friend of mine once lovingly compared my boys to a litter of puppies. She's right - they're really cute, full of energy and they destroy my house. Things get broken, or spilled, or someone gets hurt, and they blame it on each other. It's hard to get to the bottom of things, so sometimes everyone gets punished for one guys bad deed, or everyone gets off the hook because there's simply not enough evidence to convict one of them.
I would like to offer Mrs. Gregg some hope - my boys are 8 now and have matured so much from where she is now. They still fight and break things, but they are becoming independent and responsible for their own actions. We're onto the next step - heavy competition - who's smarter, faster, taller, funnier, etc. Instead of working as one crazed mob, they are becoming their own individual people. I really consider it a blessing and an honor to be the mother of this unique group of little people!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Ugg! There's a mouse in my boot!
One morning last winter, as I was walking back from putting the triplets on the school bus, I could see my 12 year old daughter jumping up and down in the driveway, screaming like a lunatic. Turns out when she stuck her foot in her Ugg, she felt something inside, so she REACHED IN pulled out a mouse! She and the mouse ran in two different directions, one more terrified than the other. I nearly had to slap her out of her hysteria, before finally convincing her that the best place for her to be was in school so I could get Daddy home to catch the mouse.
We stopped at the nurse's office so she could use the bathroom to wash the tears off her face. "Girl problems?" asked the nurse. "No, a mouse in her boot." "How AWFUL, tell her she can stop in my office any time she wants today."
On my way out, I called the hubby, who said he would drop off some sticky traps for me, but he had to hurry back to work. I don't even kill spiders, so I was not happy with the idea of catching a mouse on a glue pad, and was pretty sure I'd never catch it anyway. What would I do if I hadn't caught it by the end of the school day? We'd have to sleep in a hotel for the night.
I laid the traps all around the first floor of our house, hoping that it hadn't made it upstairs to her bedroom yet. Sure enough, within a half hour I could her the sound of it trying to free it's little feet from the glue. It was still early morning, what the hell was I supposed to do now?
As luck would have it, a guy from the water company was coming to do some work in our basement that day. When he got to the door, I greeted him with, "please, you've gotta help me get rid of this thing." "What is it, m'aam?" "Come in and I'll explain." Reluctantly, the poor guy came inside, probably thinking I was going to ask him to help me dispose of a body, so he seemed kind of relieved to find it was just a mouse. He was the sweetest young man, taking the mouse with him when he left.
I like to think he took him to the woods and set him free, but I can't be sure. What I do know for sure is that I wrote a glowing letter to his company, full of praise for him going above and beyond his job to help me that day!
We stopped at the nurse's office so she could use the bathroom to wash the tears off her face. "Girl problems?" asked the nurse. "No, a mouse in her boot." "How AWFUL, tell her she can stop in my office any time she wants today."
On my way out, I called the hubby, who said he would drop off some sticky traps for me, but he had to hurry back to work. I don't even kill spiders, so I was not happy with the idea of catching a mouse on a glue pad, and was pretty sure I'd never catch it anyway. What would I do if I hadn't caught it by the end of the school day? We'd have to sleep in a hotel for the night.
I laid the traps all around the first floor of our house, hoping that it hadn't made it upstairs to her bedroom yet. Sure enough, within a half hour I could her the sound of it trying to free it's little feet from the glue. It was still early morning, what the hell was I supposed to do now?
As luck would have it, a guy from the water company was coming to do some work in our basement that day. When he got to the door, I greeted him with, "please, you've gotta help me get rid of this thing." "What is it, m'aam?" "Come in and I'll explain." Reluctantly, the poor guy came inside, probably thinking I was going to ask him to help me dispose of a body, so he seemed kind of relieved to find it was just a mouse. He was the sweetest young man, taking the mouse with him when he left.
I like to think he took him to the woods and set him free, but I can't be sure. What I do know for sure is that I wrote a glowing letter to his company, full of praise for him going above and beyond his job to help me that day!
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