Triple Scoop

Love is....

2010-02-16T12:50:00.004-05:00

Three times the Valentine artwork for Mom. :)

I do so love my budding artists...

I am going to try and update this blog more frequently, even if it might only be once a week, it's way more than now! They are getting bigger... which means, wittier and snarkier and more loving and more cuddly and funnier and more goofy and more curious - and everyday is more fun than the last. :) Hopefully the adventures of homeschooling their pre-school years will result in some interesting stories.

Braden is doing well, but is requiring some procedures soon for his CP - so I will try to keep everyone updated and I will also try to remember that this is a journal for the kids too - to document their little years. That will keep me motivated, even if it's one of those "kids say the darndest things" kind of posts. Which could turn out to be the best ones. :)

Repost of Triplet Discovery

2009-08-05T08:51:00.012-04:00

So, the online magazine, Lucy, that "printed" my story of how the kids came to be... is closing up shop. :( I had a link to this story on my writing website, but since they are shutting down, I thought I would add the whole story to this anthology, since here is where it really belongs. If you have already read it, I apologize! But I figured this site is more fitting, so our kids will find it someday and know of their crazy beginnings...

Written by Trinity Cole (aka - me!) for Lucy, December 2008 {©Cheryle Ertel 2008}

Zero to Sixty in 9 Months

Sitting in a gyno's office could never be categorized under "Good Times" in the files of Life Experience; the anticipation of an unpleasant encounter, having to swallow your pride and cringe for those few minutes that feel like an eternity, all the while, holding a mundane conversation. But! An OB's office is something different altogether. Same office, only the dread of baring your most private parts to a total stranger is transformed! The dread is still there, mind you, no one (normal) really enjoys someone clinically poking around down there, ever. The metamorphosis arrives with the addition of some excitement, wonder and a wee bit of trepidation thrown in for good measure. And for good reason: Life changes with this kind of visit. You are... pregnant.

It's even more fun when your wide-eyed, uncomfortable-in-his-own-skin husband decides to accompany you at the last minute, and you feel responsible for his nervous fidgeting of foreign design. The only fixation taking his mind off his discomfort is studying the breast exam posters in the room, every so often uttering a collegiate giggle. I sigh, wondering why he is there, yet strangely enjoying his camaraderie.

Waiting to find out if our baby was alive and kicking made me more than a little anxious. Discovering we were pregnant a month prior, we arrived to ease our fears of a potential miscarriage. A condition, known as Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) wreaks havoc on my reproductive system, and some studies claim the disorder to harbor a 45% chance of losing a pregnancy. I was a little worried. Hell, I was freaking out. Even though we needed no help in getting pregnant, PCOS also causes massive rates of infertility. If this baby didn't make it; well, let's just say I worried for the state of our future family.

We waited, surrounded by patients, cracking nervous jokes. We poked fun at the whole idea of pregnancy and kids; nothing was sacred. At one point, he looked at me sharply and said with mock horror on his face, "What if it's twin girls?" I involuntarily gasped. Thinking about twin teenage girls in our household one day did not sound appealing; coming from a house with just my sister and me; many shared, destroyed belongings and vicious fights ending in dismembered Barbie dolls.

Quickly regaining my composure, I reacted as I knew best - I threw the horror back at him. I put my hand gently on his arm, feigning a dramatic and somber tone. "No, no, honey. See, my grandmother was a triplet, and with something like that running in our families, combined with our 'luck,' it's going to be three girls! Just wait and see!" He did look genuinely shocked then, for the first time pondering the family history and the actual feasibility of it all. I only giggled in satisfaction because I had just won the shock contest. He looked up at me, a little green in the face and seemed as though he was about to ask me a serious question. Luckily, we didn't have to wait around to contemplate our imagined fate, with the nurse calling us in.

Ultrasound underway, the nurse blithely asked me, "How are your nerves?" I thought she was having a problem with the machine. I wondered if my nervous trembling was interfering with the readings; the trembling only a moment of truth could bring; was our baby alive? Lying through my teeth, I told her I was fine and she only looked at me, turning the monitor our way. She traced her finger along the black and white abstract on the screen and calmly delivered the word, "twins."

I don't think my brain wrapped around that description, that we were having twins, because I knew in my heart that this was not the real thing. It hadn't clicked yet. Looking at the two circles, each holding a jumping bean, the wonder of it all seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop; curiously, I don't know why I was immediately questioning their existence without another look. A momentous weight hovered on the air and both of us instinctively knew that there was more to the story.

We looked at each other, eyes locked, both recalling the recent joking conversation with bated breath, and respectfully asked if she was sure there wasn't another one. I had instantly felt "three" in my heart and soul after her discovery, I knew it already, there on the exam table, and wasn't leaving without confirmation of our eerie premonition. It was all too coincidental to be unrelated; the family history, the waiting room jokes, the long wait for a family, not knowing if there would ever be more.

Mike delicately pointed to the monitor and underneath the connected circles of two sacs was an elongated and curved black hole. It looked like one of those long, thin balloons made by a traveling clown, arcing into a smile just after inflation. It wrapped under the other two, like a cupped hand, cradling them. He asked if maybe that might be another baby, just waiting to be discovered. She looked perplexed and skeptical; maybe thinking to herself how she could have missed it, but more likely just how rare three really was. She moved the wand around a bit to placate us, unimpressed. Trying for a difficult view, she broke out the heavy equipment, the internal ultrasound; Da-Da-Da . Via this new (and awfully invasive) toy, she immediately realized that he was right. From a different angle, there bounced Baby #3, directly beneath the other two.

In one swift movement, her hand flew to her mouth and she croaked loudly. I remember that she was in the throes of laryngitis, and her voice sounded painful. The Frog Lady was yelling, I realized, in her diminished and damaged voice, yelling "Oh, my God!" over and over. It sounded downright awful and I wondered why she was getting so excited.

Let me just say that we were in shock. Who wouldn't be? In this slow, perceptive state, we were suffering from the effects of brain fog. Looking at our lives from the outside of the bubble, wide-eyed, faces pressed to the glass in rapture, right before it gave way and imploded from the pressure. We were simply watching an uber-exciting soap opera, or we were dreaming, surely. Nothing like this happens in real life! The mesmeric quality of the moment was surreal, we had to be watching someone elses' lives, or we were being "Punk'd", I was sure of it. I felt slow on the uptake, a blur of light following behind everyones' movements made me feel like I was suspended in a thick liquid. My brain was doing the equivalent of a "huh? say what?!" Understanding, even in its simplest form, had not yet arrived.

Frog Lady was calling out to the nurse in the front room, as loud as she could get and oh so raspy.

We said nothing, just watched the circus show with an air of detached amusement. Mike with his back pressed firmly into the wall for stability and me, trying to contain my own body parts under the thin piece of paper they called a gown. After a while, I felt like I was floating on a cloud, high up in the air, feeling nothing but slight curiosity. Wafting and delicate, floating closer to the precipice of a fathomless abyss, a major development, breaking news, but so far, all I felt...was numb. It seemed as though we were hearing and watching the festivities from the other end of a long tunnel. My vision was now only capable of black and white tones. The light had a texture bleeding on to the edges and sounds seemed ancient and crackly. I wonder now if this is what it feels like to almost pass out. People shouldn't ever have to get news like that lying on your back, half-naked.

They were screaming, grabbing our hands and squishing our faces, dancing around the room, as if someone had hit the lottery! Little did we know that we had hit a lottery of sorts. Spontaneous conception of triplets only happens in 1 of every 8000 pregnancies¹. Is that luck? If it is, I'm not sure of what kind. Strangely, I started to wonder what the other waiting patients were imagining of all this carrying on.

With our lukewarm desire and commitment to becoming parents, mostly unsure and conflicted, these 3 babies, this "all-in" development seemed cruel and unusual. I was hoping that this first look at our little hand in creation, residing inside of me, would instantly bring us both on board, would miraculously cure our worries and insecurities, and would right our life's picture frame which seemed so crooked without the inclusion of children. But three? Three seemed as harsh as a blow to the face, a KO from God himself, sending us some sort of encrypted message. We were so confused. But there we were, our path set and inextricably paced; from zero to sixty in 9 months.

Lying on the table, in a compromising position, all pride dropped, the screaming nurses had an idea. They wanted to call my doctor, who was attending a conference in NYC. He wasn't to be interrupted, unless there was an emergency. They figured this would make the cut. The clue for us that spontaneous triplets were rare, the piece of info that had us get on board the crazy train, was that he had only treated 1 other woman in the same condition in his fifteen years of practice.

Frantically dialing the phone and then connecting, First Screaming Nurse talked rapidly in what sounded like a different language. Then, she handed it to me, the cord stretched all the way down the long hallway, me lying on my back, just chatting on the phone, as if I wasn't half naked with an internal ultrasound still in place. I told you, surreal.

He was so worried, and happy, and shocked, but worried. His first comment after the high energy subsided was that we were definitely having a c-section now, no doubt. He continued that with my history of problems, my body might not handle 3 babies well. I was only 8 weeks along and 36 weeks is considered "full term" for triplets (since they develop at a faster rate than singletons) and that made for a long road ahead. 32 weeks is the average gestation, with many a mom found on hospital bed rest for the duration. Then he delivered the shocker; all of the babies may not make it.

He advised us not to tell anyone until the end of the first trimester, at least, since there was a possibility we may lose one of the babies in these early stages. He said, "go ahead and tell them you're pregnant, if you want, but save the big news for later, when we are out of the woods." He was cautiously optimistic.

We left that day, a flurry of emotions in tow; Serious Mental Baggage. We weren't going to be great conversationalists that day, and we had a family party to attend, pretending all was status quo in our happy life.

I was growing fast, too fast to not tell anyone, they all already suspected by studying my growing belly, even 8 weeks in.

Leaving the building, the most frequent thought we would have in days to come invaded our cozy shock. "What are we going to do?" I vividly remember sitting down (more like collapsing) on the steps outside the office, feeling too weak to hold up my heavy thoughts, trembling, the news starting to sink in a bit. The tornado taking up residence inside my head swirled voraciously.

We decided to wait one more month to share the news, on Thanksgiving; for by then, I was hoping we would have come to terms with our new life and perhaps even be, well, thankful for it.

After a long visit in the vestibule, we headed out to the convenience store for a drink, feeling parched and cotton-mouthed, all available moisture rushing to lubricate the cognitive gears in overdrive. I stared at the ultrasound copies in disbelief, tears coming for the first time. These were our babies. These shapes were actually three lives inside of me. So momentous, I wished my grandmother were alive to see this.

We had some real shopping to accomplish, but we only hopped from store to store, never buying anything, just repeating to each other in different ways our newly formed mantra "What are we going to do?" And more, "How are we going to handle this?"

And like a flash of lightning, the obligation of multiplicity hit us, escalating out of control; three Halloween costumes, three learning to drive at the same time, three proms, three weddings - whoa. Three.college.tuitions. And then we really did wonder; "what if it is three girls?" Holy Crap! It was all too much to process standing up and even more, on an empty stomach. I was already suffering from "evening" sickness those days, with the multiple doses of hormones swimming in my system. Becoming very ill every night, I could not eat after a certain time. It was now past this certain time, but I desperately needed something in my belly. I needed to counteract the urge to regurgitate in response to the surprise God threw at us that day. So we ate. And we walked some more, searching for answers in the organic food aisle, hoping to unearth an epiphany behind a package of dried noodles or chocolate sandwich cookies.

We drifted aimlessly for hours, like mental patients wandering the neighborhood, lost in their own mind, speaking incoherent sing-songy sentences, wafting from place to place, not really accomplishing anything but remaining conscious. It's a marvel we even stayed side by side, each drawn inward, processing thought and emotion, perhaps drawn together by the wispy ties of our shared shock.

Telling our family and friends was only a little more exciting than it was exhausting, and by the end of it all, after a few weeks, the reality was beginning to finally sink in to the very core of us. Deep seated feelings started to root, feelings that if I were to be honest, were unfair to the children growing inside of me. We wanted to test the waters, not jump into the deep end! When will we ever have freedom again, to do the selfish things we want to do? Travel, go out to eat, play video games deep into the night, see a movie, make love, be us ...just us. How will our marriage handle this immediate taxing of resources and emotions? Will we have enough to go around and support our new soccer team? How will we be devoted to and deeply love all three at once, having the patience to teach and discipline them together and also the fortitude to handle the screaming and sicknesses and hard times? If we're not good enough, we run the risk of screwing up three kids, not just one; what.are.we.going.to.do?

Another month passed, and the healing ritual of Christmas shopping commandeered our lives. We let the season wash over us, trying to forget the difficult future in store, ready or not. Concentrating on our 22 nieces and nephews, we raided the toy store. 4 Tired feet and 2 sore backs later, we were still as elated as when we walked through the door; we were finally catching the bug! Inundated with toys for all ages, we started to move past the worst and imagine now the best of times; the times when having a family is all worthwhile; and it all began with Christmas. With the exhilaration, dawned a new chapter of our family and the worry abated, if only slightly.

Registering for our baby shower shortly after, we became aware of all that one needs to care for a baby or three and scanned away. Stopping at a seemingly innocuous bath toy, Mike paused and looked profoundly thrilled. Watching him act as a child would, stealing over me was the realization that he was picturing life beyond those tough infant years. In a flash, he had stolen a glimpse of the fun times we would have as they got older. This forgettable toy was an effectual dam, holding back the flood of terrible predictions and anticipated difficulties, the awful advice and the fear of failing. I laughed and cried witnessing this evolution because when he found it, the look on his face beamed pure joy and excitement. Even if triggered by a mere toy, he was now truly ready to be a "Dad", even better; a dad of triplets.

In that instant, under the fluorescent luster and warehouse air, I just knew everything was going to be... okay. We were ready.

¹The odds of conceiving "spontaneous" triplets (i.e., without the aid of fertility enhancements) is about 1 in 8,100. (Note: These statistics are estimates, gathered from several sources, including a 2001 National Vital Statistics Report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Odds - Twins from BabyMed.com, Facts About Multiples: Twin Basics Page 2

Screaming, Anyone?

2009-07-07T11:36:00.002-04:00

Yep, this is our life right now.

And people say, "It's so much easier now that they aren't babies anymore, isn't it?"

This is my video answer:

*Note* - Notice how Braden just keeps going after the others lose interest and find an airplane....

I think that equivocates to an "UM.... No." :)

And by the way, Braden was fine - he just scuffed his hand up a bit - they got up and continued for a few agonizing minutes.

Our Fourth

2009-07-06T17:52:00.006-04:00

Nooooo, that does not mean we are having another baby! So stop thinking that!

It's a blog post about the kids' first 4th of July with awareness. So cool! They have been to numerous amounts of fireworks shows over the last 2 years, really, this is their 3rd 4th of July (confusing?). The other shows they have been to they were just too little to understand, but we figured it was good practice to get them used to the BOOMS! But, alas, no matter how much we prepared them beforehand, the little kiddos were still scared this go 'round. :(

I started a few days before, trying to make them understand what we were going to see and that it was going to sound a bit like thunder but have the added bonus of colors in the sky! Neat! I did my best to hover over them and make sounds like fake thunder, booming really deep and making gestures with my hands above my head in my best attempt to replicate a show... but apparently I don't hold a candle to the real thing, cuz the real thing scared the pants off them.

We went to a show on the 3rd, they were all dressed up for the day - think I could get one picture of their cuteness? Nope. All I got was this:

No, Cole was not asleep, he was strategically peeking.

and this:

looks a tad scared, huh? He kept jumping and whining on every single boom - poor guy! Nice chocolate face.

And Marlene got this:

can you tell their eyes are open? Peeking through the gaps...Soooo funny.

Yep, that's them enjoying the brightly colored show in the sky with their eyes somewhat closed (covered). Training to be ninjas or jedi, I think, when they can enjoy the show even through closed eyelids. So proud! Actually, since Cole was leaning so heavily on Alex and they both had their eyes closed and covered, I think Alex actually fell asleep!

Then, on the actual 4th, and still no pictures of their cuteness - Alex had on sparkly red Dorothy shoes! Adorable! - we head into Lancaster a little early to take in the carnival they had set up and got a chance to ride the merry-go-round! Call me stingy and cheap, but wow that was a rip-off! Thankfully, Papa paid for these guys to ride, since we probably wouldn't have been able to do so... 3 stinkin' dollars for 2 minutes...times 3! So, 9 bucks for 2 minutes - and we went twice! Reeeeeediculous. Thank you, Papa! Cole loved it so much he wrapped his legs around the horse when it was time to get down and cried afterwards like we took something away. :)

The second night's fireworks were much more quiet and therefore more interesting to the kids - they kept going "ahhhh...BOOM!" or shouting out the colors that came up, though sometimes I caught them with their hands over their eyes again, only this time the spaces between the fingers were much wider. They even got up to walk around the blanket for a bit since they were so comfortable! Much more enjoyable after they got used to it. They snacked on cheez-its and raisins and licks of their cousins' ice cream cones and snuggled in lap after lap. They never stop moving! A cheez-it here, Mima's lap - a raisin here - Daddy's lap! Some ice cream... lay next to Papa!

Then, right after the show, and when we were on the complete opposite side of the carnival than our car...the unthinkable happened - our stroller broke. The steering cable snapped! On our ridiculously freakin' expensive stroller! So expensive it should have come with someone to push it! So, we (me, Papa and Grandma) had to carry the kids all the way back while Mike basically "carried" the humungo stroller. They are SO getting a call from us to complain! Grrrr.

Other than the stroller mishap, it was a great weekend and they loved the lights and rides and people and shows...they kept talking about it all day and night. So cute! Later, when tucking them in for the night (at 12:30am!), I heard Braden sleepily murmur "good night, mommy....good night, fireworks."

I love that boy.

In the Moment

2009-06-29T09:41:00.006-04:00

I sit here today, well, for the past few months, actually, almost sobbing at the reality of life - that it moves on, no matter how hard you try to hold on, it keeps going, going, going. Time is relentless and you can either fight it or live IN it, you can't do both. Every day I try to live it, to live in the proverbial moment, but I fail...since at the end of the day, every day, I anguish over the loss of that day, that I will never get it back - and it chokes me up, makes me angry - makes me shake my fist at God that my babies will be gone someday. I try to hold them close to my chest, to keep them at this age, to keep them here with me...selfish, I know, but it's a feeling like no other, the terrifying loss of time, of this time with them - almost like the grasping and containing of falling sand, and the frustration in the unfruitful task is unbearable.

Yes, it's obvious, I am an emotional wreck! Most sane mothers are happy that their kids will have their own lives someday - that they will be successful, happy and free to make their own choices - and that you will be ecstatic to see how they have grown into themselves and matured and all of that. While the thought does make me happy, I don't ever want to see them leave this little nest of ours! What we have made for them and how intense we have felt for them, those feelings of this unique family unit are things we never want to lose. The morning serenades, the random hugs, the adorable giggles - how can you say goodbye to these things?

Every day I trudge through the necessities of our routine life, the life that I have said many times before reminds me of Groundhog Day, over and over, the same things repeated in an endless loop...and I try to "better my score"... meaning, get it all done quicker than I did yesterday. There is nothing worse than putting the kids to bed, realizing you are exhausted yourself and then walking downstairs to remind yourself of the mountain of work left for you in the kitchen, the dining room, on the deck and in the living room. So, lately I have been trying to finish most of it before the kiddos head up to bed, frantically washing dishes and receiving leg hugs here and there from Braden and bouncing back the "Hi Mommy!"s I hear enter the kitchen and them running back out to play without me...all in the name of "getting it done".

But I tell ya....It's a toss up. Yes, I feel good and more relaxed when I come down to a cleaner house, but also....in "getting it done", I am missing the "doing" part of life (see below).... I am trading the sweet, precious, fleeting time I could spend with the kids in the evening just to clean up, a perfect example of something that means nothing really, in the scheme of things. There will always be dishes, even after they go their own separate ways...but there is only "now", right now.

I think the fact that we have three at the same age is what is causing these epidemic sobbing fits. The realization that as intense as the first few years are, their childhood will be the same! Fleeting and ....Intense. We only have one chance to spend their childhood with them ALL. They will leave together, not spaced out as to buffer us from the reality of time marching on. They travel to college or out and about... together! Like 1 child would, only we have to let three spread their wings simultaneously. How hard is that gonna be?

And I know it seems far away from now that we will have to endure that challenge, but I am sure if I blink, that moment will arrive...so I almost religiously have to remind myself that we are here, we are now - it is so hard to do, I know! But, it is all we have and it is all we get, so honestly, who cares if you are tired and face a TON of work into the wee hours of the morning? When it's all said and done...those memories, those times we are fully with them are all we will have left - so, make it of fun and of sweet things and of love, with them...and not of dishes.

If you are wondering, this article is what prompted this blog post - I have been feeling this emotional deluge for months and months now...but this article is just beautiful and says it all....and yes, I sobbed during my reading of it - I dare you not to do the same. :)

From Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author

"All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past. Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations –what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China . Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When- Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?". (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.

I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.

That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were."

All I can say is the obvious..... Enjoy every. single. minute. and relish the trade off of hard work after they go to bed as extra time you got to spend with them. Squeeze it all, for this is our one and only shot to enjoy the good stuff.

10 Years

2009-06-19T14:30:00.000-04:00

10 years...where did it go? 10 years ago today, I married an incredible man – though I didn’t really understand how lucky I was at the time. I was caught up in the courtship phase, the tingling happiness, full of butterflies and laughter and fun. Life was good; high on the promise of an incredible life together. Little did I know that the first year would be so hard for us, so hard to live together and mesh our lives seamlessly; what each of us brought to the table: the baggage, the life experiences, the habits, preferences and traits - and BOY did we clash for a while…but eventually we came to realize that this is what life is all about, what marriage is all about – the BIG compromise.

I have loved journeying to find out that we are even more perfect for each other than we ever knew possible… compatible in almost every way, and the ways we aren’t we have learned to compromise or even complement one another [ie, the slob(me) vs the organizer(you) and the relaxed(me) to the uptight(you)]. I love that we make each other better people; you make me want to be more, every day! I have learned oodles about myself through you and I hope the feeling is mutual. You have changed me (in a good way!) in almost every definition of the word -you could say I feel more… evolved; definitely more alive. We fit together like puzzle pieces – and dare I say it? It's total cheese, but you do – “you complete me.” We have found in each other just that which our souls were missing.

I love that we share the same non-political views, that we see more in animals than most people do, and that we can relish a sci-fi (Enterprise, Stargate!) or James Bond marathon. I love that Christmas brings out the extreme kid in both of us. We share the love of our beautiful kids and want to be that “Amazing Ertel Parenting Machine” we always talked about being for them. Our goals for the future have often aligned without much effort and now we share that in raising our sweet babies.

Other things we share a love for: long walks in the quiet woods, Mrs. Angelina Jolie and Mr. Brad Pitt, being considerate people and making others happy, super good ice cream, water anywhere, movie nights, the stars and space and the cool things humans do, being spontaneous when we travel, the giggles and smiles and laughter of our children, the color blue, Mr. Dean Koontz, (your mom’s)almond puff, being honest and downright good, cool technology, the Brantingham screen room, thought-provoking comedy, Phil Collins, slab bacon and our awesome families. Just to name a few. We are both geeks, and that makes me incredibly happy. J

You appreciate the world around you and the impact you have on it, good and bad – and I love that about you. You are caring and considerate, kind and unselfish, a good friend, family member and husband; always giving. You are hardworking and careful, smart and sensitive and philosophical – you have learned to step back and realize that there is more than one perspective in every situation…all this you have taught me and more.

I think back with a laugh to our first date full of mishaps – an awful movie we didn’t want to see, the right side of my face, numb from a visit to the dentist, numb almost all night, and you thought I was mad at you since I didn’t smile much, then your good tools stolen right out of your car….but that first kiss later, in my parents' living room, during the endless playing of the same movie (Only You) was….*sigh* - I get butterflies every time I think about it. I think it took us about 2 hours just to get to it, we were both so nervous! Silly now, but a very, very sweet memory. And here we are...3 beautiful kids later, so much we have gone through; so much love, some loss, but much happiness….so much we have learned about each other and so much more to learn… Again, life is good: but now we are high in the act of living an incredible life together.

I can’t think of anyone I would rather be with, to “grow old with” and watch our babies flourish before our very eyes. This is our life! And it makes me so happy to be here in it with you, forever. Our souls were imprinted onto each other long ago and we were lucky to have made the match, even before knowing how perfect the match was going to turn out to be. Everyone should be this lucky! You are stuck with me forever, baby!

Happy 10th, my sweet...you are my “dream” man.

Boots and a Deck

2009-06-13T16:59:00.002-04:00

This is what we have been seeing for a while now, looking out our dining room window. Mike, hard at work, up on a ladder...all evening, practically! What you don't see in the picture is Papa - Mike's dad - who has also been hard at work, building our new deck for us! Yay!

I hope to have pictures up soon - the behemoth is almost finished...and we are so excited to spend more of our summer days and nights outside... More play, more meals, more relaxing, more star-gazing! Our old deck was about 8'x10' - this new one is 14'x16'... and Papa calls it the "biggest playpen he has ever seen"! I am loving the fact that it feels like an extension of our house. He even put a gate on it (for me). :)

What Mike is doing up on that ladder is staining the house...our house is 150 years old and it was in desperate need of a face lift. It is old barn board siding (see background of picture!), and it was more faded than we realized. He first had to tear off the siding, remove bee nests, bat homes and other creepy crawlies that were hiding under there - apparently the wood is yummy and cozy to the non-human population...then run some wire for electrical outlets and three new outdoor lights to create the ambiance this new fancy deck "needs"... and he also re-insulated the front of the house while he was in there... it's a brand new place! Awesome. Pictures soon - it's coming out great!

Too Funny Not To Share

2009-04-07T12:36:00.004-04:00

I know I have been MIA for quite some time, but this was too funny not to take the time and share....

When a toddler mistakes diaper cream for chapstick.

You should have heard her oh-so-innocent question, looking up at me as I entered the room...

Alex: "chapstick?"

Mommy: "Ohhhhhh, no, honey.... that's Des-i-tin....it goes on your dupa."

Alex: "oh."

Too funny. I had to grab the camera and snap this one, laughing the whole time in front of a very confused toddler. ;)

Love Letters To My Children

2009-03-18T12:37:00.014-04:00

Oh, my dear little Alex…who would have ever thought I would love having a daughter so completely?

You are my light, the shine in my day - someone I never knew I couldn't live without, until you were born. You are like an echo of me, only with a sturdy dose of your father to fill in all the gaps. Every time I look into your deep blue eyes, so beautiful they make me gasp, I see the different kinds of woman you might turn out to be. You are so sensitive and passionate, with a fierce temper and a feisty disposition. You are aggressive and fight for what you want, even if it’s something you shouldn’t have.

You are the most helpful toddler I have ever met, almost anticipating your brothers’ needs. You are the first to clean up when asked, happily collecting stray toys with a smile, loving to please people in the act. Every time I watch you bring a cup of water to Cole just because he might be thirsty, or see you wheel Braden’s walker to him so he can follow you in your adventures, I want to cry, seeing how gracious and giving you have already become. You amaze me.

You share what you have, knowing you don’t need more than one, and it would make someone else happy. You do this all by yourself, and you are just barely touching 2 years on this earth. You actively try to make others happy, if they are crying or unhappy (even me or Daddy), you walk up with that simple little trilling “hi-iiii.” and it makes everything better. You can bring a toy to your brother when he is upset, set it in his lap and step back, looking expectant, and I know what you are trying to do. Make it better. You love music and songs; you smile frequently, laugh even more and shout/scream for joy at all occasions. You dance, twirling around and around, looking up to meet my eyes as if you were just doing it all for me.

You love to be mischievous too, that glimmer in your eyes as you look sideways at me, knowing all the time that what you are doing isn’t what you are supposed to be doing, but having all sorts of fun doing it. Sweet and loving, though you are quick to let us all know when you don't like something...I think the residents in the next state can hear it too. ;) You love people, the more the better – along with new experiences and love, they are like the air to you, you seem to crave them, to need them, and you attract them as a magnet, as moths to a flame. You’re magnetic.

You love meal time, which is a blessing to me – I love to see you relish in new foods, loving the taste and texture and the new experiences. You so love your daddy, arms ever-outward, stretching for his protective embrace when he is in your sight. You love feeling protected and cozy, safe and warm, but you have an independent streak a mile wide. And talk about stubborn! Now that I look back on all I have written, I think with a smile that you did get much more from me than just the color of your eyes.

You love to look pretty, the twinkle in your eyes so obvious as you look up to our approving appraisals of just how “pretty you look”, splaying your hands out as if to say you love the attention. We love to give it to you. You sign and talk so well – your memory is sharp, your awareness even sharper. You are taking to life as a triplet with happiness and ease, even though you knew nothing else, this is something that makes us happy and proud. You are….easy. And that is something we will always be thankful for.

I love your bad hair days –which are every day – the way you sleep makes it frizz and fray, and until I “get around” to smoothing it, I love staring at the unkempt reddish-brown crop and laughing sweetly at just how cute you really look. You are our Bella – which is to say you are gracefully ungraceful. You trip over everything, or your own feet if nothing else is available. I think it is your most endearing quality; getting up after each fall with dignity, using the back of your hand to wipe the hair from your face with the determination to never have that happen again…which of course it always does. And we love that about you.

Everyone says that you are so serious! You always have been – with that little crease in your forehead, the one that looks like you are concentrating so hard on the puzzle of life. And then, quick as a wink - that smile flashes again, your forehead smooth once again. And you marvel in the world around you, taking simple joy in knowing what everything is called, pointing at an object with a wondering, “agabah?” – which means, what is that? ….I think. So, I tell you, and watch your face light up with sheer joy at every single word. Dresser, bowl, butterfly, tree. You want to know it all.

You are the first to spot me in the morning, coming around the corner of the stairs, and you shout for joy – shrieking in an adoring way, “Mommy!” and that is the best part of my day. Other than snuggling with you on the couch, of course. You love to hug and be hugged, to kiss and be kissed. Your little walk is hilarious, your little bum wiggling back and forth twice as fast as your pumping arms. You are always wiggling. Oh, and that giggle of yours…ah, is there anything sweeter? I can’t bear to be away from you even when I have to be, even when I need to be. I love that you love me to hug you so snugly there isn’t a space between us, like I can imagine you will always be this sweet little baby girl forever.

My baby girl, I love you so...completely.

The First and The Third

2009-03-04T11:28:00.005-05:00

That's the third haircut for the boys...but the first....at home.

What were we thinking? ;)

I'll tell you - we were thinking, "let's save some money and be even more closely involved in our kids' lives." Right? It sounds reasonable, even after watching tons of You Tube videos on how to cut your child's hair and getting personal instruction from your own hairstylist. Looks difficult, like an art form...but we can do it! Right? How hard/bad can it be?

Well, Cole was our first guinea pig. Well, mine really. Mike did Braden's hair.

Let's just say...we're glad we don't really have to go anywhere for a few weeks.

Here's the progression:

First haircut - with Joe the Barber - remember?

Then, a second haircut with Rachael, the woman who does my hair. I asked her to "teach" me how to cut it myself.

Then:

Are we THAT poor that we have to humiliate our kids in public with the haircut that is obviously from their momma? And...the answer is...yes. Even for an $8 haircut, times 3, anything and everything is expensive. Thank God they are only 2 and we can only get better. :)

So, Cole was first up in the chair...we distracted him with the clipping shears. Dad's idea! He did love it though. I couldn't cut a straight line to save my life. So, his bangs are a little crooked. Does that mean he is any less loved? (What I tell myself every time I look at him.) I cut the back WAY too short, his bangs also WAY too short and crooked and over his ears a tad too short. I kept telling myself, this is only the first time! You'll get better.

Before:

After: (if I swept the bangs to the side, the crooked line was less noticeable) ;)

I kind of look like I know what I'm doing, right? Wrong. Sooooo wrong.

Ticklish...

But then, Mike cut Braden's....and he did awesome. The first time. I was crushed. Jealous, ashamed and beaten. If this were a competition (which it certainly was...), then Mike won, hands down. So, he gets to keep the job! As bummed as I am to not be able to do it as well as him, which means I won't be doing it at all anymore, he really enjoyed it. I felt a bit like a failure as a mother, but that gives him another way to bond with the babies. And that makes me happy I "lost."

Before: Mommy! Cut my hair! Funny how his hair resembles the crazy doll's hair that he is holding...but anyway...

Vaseline on lips + a very runny nose = a sticky, hairy, tickly mess!

Daddy the Barber

Cutting Away!

After: Perfect!

I do love those curls, which Braden was just starting to get back again, (*sigh*) those ringlets forming in the back...but they do look so handsome all neat and tidy as well, don't you think?

Favorite Picture and Feeling Better

2009-02-28T14:13:00.010-05:00

I think this is one of my new favorite pictures!

Little B, smiling, trying to make his sister laugh. Gotta love his goofy smile!

Took it yesterday morning while we were waiting for Cole to get up (he slept in until almost noon!)

He is still sleeping off his pneumonia. He is so tired and so cranky all day, coughing and crying. It's so hard to see him like that and not be able to soothe his pain. Braden did have mild pneumonia and also received the "power shot" of antibiotics and is doing much better, though also crabby! Alex is almost 100 percent, still a little wheezy, but mostly fine.

Thank you all for the well wishes and the offers of help. Mom and Dad C and Mom and Dad E, Christine, MJ and Sara - you guys are awesome!

Their appetite is slowly returning, which makes me think I need to do a post on just how much they eat in a normal day. It truly flabbergasts us on daily basis. For instance, they eat a half pound of mozzarella cheese every day. Holy Cow.

We are in so much trouble when they are teenagers.

It Never Ends...

2009-02-24T09:51:00.002-05:00

Last night, I stayed up until 12:45, until my eyes could stay open no longer and set my quiet little cell phone alarm to wake me an hour and a half later to give the breathing treatments. It's always easier for me to stay up than it is to get up, but my body was telling me, no go.

I awoke with the alarm, so freezing cold that I had to stay in a dream-wake-sleep for almost 20 minutes before I dragged myself out of that snuggly warm bed. It was 2:30ish and I headed upstairs. Entering the room, I became aware of Braden's breathing, almost like a little "pop-pop-pop" instead of a slow, even drawing of breath. It made me worried because that's how Cole was just a few nights ago. He started coughing hard and frequently, so I gave him his treatment first. His fits of coughing seemed to slow and I figured it must be his asthma and stuffy nose causing those short, staccato breaths. I gave Cole his treatment, ever-glancing back at my poor B-Man, semi-asleep in his crib; worried, worried, worried. Cole is doing well, it seems. Fever is coming down. I gave him his Motrin at 3:00 and wondered if Braden could use some as well, if only to help quiet the coughing and soothe his poor throat. I decided against it and would wait, listening for any signs of trouble. Before I left, I realized just how cold the room was getting, since overnight it became pretty cold here. I needed that to change.

I went back downstairs and decided to stoke up the wood stove and turn on the fans to the house and the dedicated fan to their room. I stoked and waited and basked in the fire for an hour, hoping that would bump up the temp enough in their room for the night. I had put all of their blankets on them before I left, but like all toddlers, they are restless sleepers and blankets are usually the casualty of those little fighting arms and kicking legs. So, I wanted the room to be snuggly, especially if they weren't feeling well.

At 4:00, I succumbed to my soft and warm bed, finally, and fell asleep right away.

At 4:30, those "signs of trouble" I was listening for awoke me - Braden was crying and it didn't sound like a passing thing. I got up, went upstairs and realized that his temperature had soared! Oh, why didn't I think to actually touch his forehead a few hours before? If only, I would have realized that his symptoms were from a blazing fever and not asthma. He was crying because his whole body hurt! I didn't bother to take his temperature, I wanted to quickly get medicine into his system, get him calm and try not to wake the other two.

I ended up on various rocking chairs through the house, trying to settle him far away from his room and siblings, and at 5:30, we ended up on the couch. He seemed to settle for a few hours there with me, both snoozing away. Mike woke me up at 7:30 and I realized his temp was soaring again (or still), 3 hours after Motrin. We gave him Tylenol and tried to go back to sleep for an hour. We did. But his temp was still up there, at about 103.

Mike just left to take him back to the doctor, hoping that if he does have full-blown pneumonia like his brother, they will give him the super-antibiotic shot too. These guys deserve to be healthy again.

Hopefully, he will come back with good news. It never ends!

Sickness Update

2009-02-23T23:26:00.002-05:00

The good news: Alex is feeling better! Helped along with an antibiotic and lots of breathing treatments (and lots of cinnamon raisin toast with butter - wouldn't that make anyone feel better?!), she is almost back to her old self, dancing and giggling and showing us her fierce temper.

The bad news: We had to take Cole and Braden back to the doctor today. Cole's fever just wouldn't quit and it was scaring the heck out of us. And Braden should have been much better on the steroid he has been on for four days already. He has only marginally improved.

We had an appointment at 2:15. We arrived with all three kids to an almost empty waiting room. They immediately gravitated to the play kitchen, of course. All three were playing well for about a half hour when Cole suddenly needed a shoulder to rest on. He quickly became lethargic, eyes closing and mouth open, drooling all over Daddy. He was so warm. We waited for more than an hour there, watching him get steadily worse and even hotter, the room filling to capacity. Once we were in the exam room, the really hot exam room, we had to let the door stay open in order to not exacerbate the fever. During the wait, his temperature had shot up to 104.7 deg. That's almost 105 deg, people! I was in shock, expecting to see the doctor drop the thermometer and run from the room screaming "ICEPACK! ICEPACK!", or perhaps call for an immediate ambulance with police escort in tow. That's what I would have done. But, I have no composure in times such as these. My eyes wide, I watched him calmly walk to his computer and type something in. I wanted to yell at him, at somebody, to "GET SOME MOTRIN, NOW!" Wasn't anyone concerned about this? Or was it just me?

He left the room after examining him some more, after finding that both of his ears were infected, and came back with a nurse who was finally holding some Motrin. Thank God! He lapped it up like a thirsty dog. Then, he was sent across the hall for a chest x-ray. Mike went with him, since he lacked the strength to stand. Otherwise he would have been on his own! I'm kidding.

Yep, he has pneumonia. The probable cause for the insane fever combined with his ear infections. My poor baby. He barely lifted his head from his Daddy's shoulder the whole time we were there, his eyes mostly shut and tears streaming from them. He received his antibiotic through a shot delivered in both thighs simultaneously. That's gotta tell you how serious it was. And he still gets a 10 day course on top of that powerful shot!

Braden was diagnosed with a deep infection in the lungs (somebody please tell me how that is different than pneumonia) and also a double ear infection - which was why he wasn't better with the steroid alone. So, he got his own antibiotic to take home as well. Something stronger than usual, but only the oral meds for him. ;)

Alex spent the two hours we were in there busily devouring crackers, biscuits, water and juice. I swear she would have eaten the books if we stayed any longer. She also tried to plan her escape into the hallway where lots of interesting people kept walking by and flashing her the smile. Her back to the wall right by the door, sliding along, her feet inching closer to freedom, all the while her eyes were on mommy, hoping to not get busted. She just knew it would be more fun outside the little room we were in, with the door open, us trying to keep them all busy, happy, cool and corralled. Oh, the joys of parenting (sick) triplets.

They are all resting comfortably and I am blogging to fill the time before my shift is up to go upstairs and deliver the 2am breathing treatments. I am trying to figure out just when this all got so serious and what we could have done to make this any easier on them, but even my parents, who were over last night, could not tell Cole was as sick as he really was. Our kids are really good at hiding their colds! I guess that is how you get when you are sick most of the time, if you still want to enjoy some part of life. Sometimes, I really wish I were a doctor.

Keep your fingers crossed and say lots of prayers that Cole improves over the next 48 hours. The doc warned us that this is a crucial time, since if his breathing becomes more labored or if his fever does not break within this period, we will be headed to the hospital. We are hoping for the best!

A Month!

2009-02-22T09:59:00.004-05:00

That's how long we have all been sick for. I can't believe it. It's just a never ending cycle here at the Ertel Zoo! Mike started it with a sinus cold, gave it to me and then the kids started shortly after. We have all gotten better in between, but then someone gives it back to someone else and the musical chairs of sickness continues...will the music ever really stop??! I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to spring - the windows open, flushing these germs out of our house for good. Because now I am starting to believe that spring is our only hope out of this.

Cole got really sick about two weeks ago, coughing and runny nose, wheezing. Then Alex followed with the same symptoms. We started giving breathing treatments to them all before nap and nighttime, since even though Braden wasn't sick, he was starting to wheeze too. Cole started to get better, Alex got worse. Alex tends to get ear infections after a cold, so we worried that was where she was headed. On Friday, we woke up to the magical sounds of Braden coughing - asthmatic coughing. For anyone who has had the blessing not to deal with an asthmatic, asthma manifests in many different forms. Braden's form comes in extreme coughing which makes it ridiculously hard to breathe. And then he goes downhill fast. The ER is always a back-of-the-mind worry.

Friday morning, I made a doctor appt for him and Alex, since Cole seemed to be at the tail end of his cold and, I hate to say it, the co-pay for each child is 20 dollars. So, if one of the kids is mostly well, we can't afford to have them be seen unless absolutely necessary - even though they all come with us anyway. Alex was diagnosed with a double ear infection and something resembling asthma, since she was having a hard time breathing too. All three now? Ugh. She was most worried about Braden, though, since he was working really hard to breathe again, even with the treatments. I saw "hospital" written all over her face. She even suggested that Alex may be making the trip as well if her oxygen levels dipped too low through the night.

We went from 1 pretty sick kid to possibly two in the hospital in 12 hours. It happens fast! We took them home and started to administer the bevy of medicine prescribed for Alex and Braden. I started writing it all down on index cards to keep track because with little sleep - heck with a full night of sleep - it's hard to remember who got what when.

It strongly reminded me of the first 6 months of feeding and medicine with them, having to keep a log of what they ate and when they pooped and what medicine they got so we could both keep track after we passed each other in the night trading shifts taking care of them. ;)

I know this is a "duh" statement, but life with sick triplets is so much harder than any other day. You get used to the routine, whatever is handed to you in your own life, and when it is disrupted, it's always hard to manage, but when they are sick and you are sick with worry, and that is unfortunately a lot around here, it's not very fun. I'm still in my pajamas from yesterday. Really. The steroid Braden is on makes him extremely irritable and he just cries and cries and cries all day. In between coughing. And Alex's antibiotic is so harsh on her poor stomach since she is not eating much, and that makes for a very unpleasant diaper for both of us. ;)

Yesterday morning, Cole woke up coughing more again and I though, "yikes... here we go again." He needs treatments around the clock now too. Sigh. And then last night, he started scaring us - at bedtime, when reading their favorite story - he was sitting in my lap and I could just feel the fever through his pajamas. He was blazing hot. I took his temp - almost 103. And the kicker - he had gotten Motrin for a low fever (100) only 3 hours before. So that fever was on Motrin, even.

All night, we have been alternating Tylenol and Motrin every three hours just to keep the fever down. It keeps creeping back up too quickly. Plus, we are giving all three breathing treatments every 4 hours through the night to make sure they don't end up in the hospital on oxygen.

Here's the list:

Breathing treatments every 4 hours

Motrin/Tylenol every 3/6 hours

Braden's steroid 2xs day

Alex's antibiotic 2xs a day

Claritin and Nasonex for the boys at night

Pulmicort breathing treatment every day (which is supposed to boost their immune system all winter)

I hate that this list is so long, that all of this medication has to be in our babies' systems to function, to stay healthy, to not end up in the hospital catching a more serious life-threatening cold. I keep telling myself that the older they get, the stronger they will get, and I hope that is true.

The drying rack is littered with breathing masks and syringes. The counter holds all the bottles of medications at the ready. The garbage is full of a large number of plastic tubes that once held the breathing treatments and tens of discarded tissues. Their bedroom and the living room are alive with the constant hum of two machines, compressors, to deliver the treatments. It's full focus on controlling sickness in this house!

As of now, Cole's fever is still high, Braden is still coughing despite 2 days of steroids and 6 breathing treatments a day and Alex is still miserable, though better, I think. I worry for their health, but I am hoping that we will make it out without serious intervention. I keep having to tell myself that even though this is rough and touch-and-go, we could be battling things much worse, and that thought usually helps me have some faith in where we will be in a few days - hopefully back to the normal, boring, everyday grind. Can I say that I miss it?! ;)

Sick Day

2009-02-18T00:18:00.003-05:00

Last week, when I woke up unable to get out of bed because I was so sick, Mike went into Super-Daddy mode.

He.was.awesome.

Let me just count the ways.

He physically pushed me back down in bed when I got up to take care of the babies and cheerfully told me he was "looking forward to this". He seemed to really mean it too, which helped a lot.

He made the kids breakfast. I don't know what he made, but he did it well. And then he cleaned up after them. Nice.

He got them situated and gave the boys their nebulized medicine. I really dislike that part of my morning, so this was another treat! I came out to spend some quality time with them then, since I missed them so.

I mentioned that I was so sore I could barely lift my arms. I mentioned how nice it would be to take a hot bath (me thinking, yeah, right, when do I ever get to take one of those lately?!), but the tub was kinda dirty, so nevermind. He left the room for a few minutes and came back with a grin. I heard water running. He took me into the bathroom where he just smiled, knowing he was taking care of me. He cleaned the tub for me. My heart swooned. He even put a candle in the room for ambiance. And then let me take my bath in peace. Whatta man, whatta man....

The only time all day he really worried about not being a good dad was this:

I heard "NO! NO! NO!" And then, "Awww....man!" And then he came into the bedroom and said he officially stinks at being a dad, showing me these pictures. While he was making breakfast, Alex had climbed up onto the dining room chair and dumped out the contents of the cereal box, apparently making her own breakfast! Like that's the first time THAT ever happened. ;)

Sick days are great! I think he's the best dad ever.

Happy Love Day

2009-02-14T11:34:00.005-05:00

What is Love day without getting up 2 hours earlier than normal? That is how kids show their parents the LOVE. By spending more time with them.

Well, at least that is probably how they saw it! Smart kids, sleepy parents.

So, since they wake up pretty late on a normal day, this two hours before was really only 7:00am, so we aren't too upset about it. We woke them up, saying "Happy Valentine's Day!" over and over in the best sing-songy voice you can have with partial laryngitis, swinging them around the room in our arms. Thankfully, they were the only recipients of this little gift of love. I know my ears were hurting afterwards!

We brought them downstairs and we all had a love-ly breakfast - whole wheat waffles with lots of butter, slab bacon and heart shaped strawberries. Love on a plate!

Mike introduced them to whipped cream on their waffles and the word of the day became "keem!" (cream). Braden was so "keem" infatuated that he started putting his mouth down to the waffle instead of bringing the waffle up to his mouth.

Then, we cleaned up and watched a Blue's Clues episode, titled, "Happy Love Day." Alex was enthralled, I think she already has a crush on Joe. Or maybe Blue. Whatever it is, she loves the show already.

I think we might just decide to share the Love today and attend our little town's winter festival today - Winterfest! More on that later...

Until then, have a very, very Happy Love Day, whatever you decide to do.

Peyahn-keeks!

2009-02-09T22:47:00.005-05:00

or...Pancakes. As only a toddler could adorably call them.

Mike is adorable too, since he makes them for us every weekend. And he has gotten really good at it too! Most of you out there that know Mike, know that whatever he decides to do, he gets really darn good at it. He's awesome like that.

He is also great because he involves the kids, even though they can't help yet...even though their faces are inches away from certain death, even though they just squeak "Peyahn-keeks!" the entire time. And they all just love it. Again, he's awesome like that.

Me, I have a hard time with it because it's not efficient. Why put them up on chairs, on tippy toes, fighting over their spot, just to watch their food being made, hungry and salivating, but they can't touch it just yet? Why go through all that effort?

Because it's so dang cute.

And because he's a really, really, really good daddy.

Love you, baby. Thanks for helping me to keep it in perspective.

Some First-Time Sledding Fun

2009-02-06T08:35:00.002-05:00

I confess that our kids have been forced to inherit our hermit gene. Mike and I are homebodies in the most serious way possible. If they ever had Olympics for homebodies, that would be our sport. We are good at it...and love to be this way most of the time.

Cabin Fever does settle over, as it does on most people this time of year, but I think it's just less severe for us. Though, it is still there! I never got around to buying snowsuits for the kids this year - well, I found one for Alex, but I wasn't too aggressive about finding one for the boys because I just didn't think about it, honestly. It never really crossed my mind that they might be old enough and want to play in the snow by this time of year...but they are! So, now I feel bad and am scrounging the secondhand stores for a steal.

One day, after church, Mike thought it would be spontaneous and fun (translation: less work) to get the kids out of the car and instead of taking them inside, plop them in the sled and have a go around the driveway a few laps. They were still in church clothes, no gloves, no hats, no boots...but I agreed, mostly because of the sheer guilt that I was not prepared for this iconic childhood moment. It wasn't as cold that day as most have been, so I grabbed the camera and watched Mike's glee! Braden was in the middle, and I think he just got tired out quicker, because he kept ending up in Cole's lap! Cole, then holding up himself and Braden kept losing it too and would fall back, sliding now on the back of his jacket, face to the sky. They were all giggling, but we didn't want them to get too cold, so we packed it up after a few passes.

Next stop, Consignment Shop! Hopefully they will have 2 boy's suits, or else they might be forced to wear a pink or purple one just to enjoy the snow. Bad Mommy!

Another Day

2009-02-04T22:24:00.006-05:00

I found this post today on Facebook and was appalled at the person writing in... It made me wonder...do many people without kids wonder this? It made me a little angry, annoyed and then a little sad. Because it goes deeper than this. Most people have no idea what others go through in life. I confess to that many days. Many people are concerned with their own lives, absorbed by their own problems and sorrows and joys, with little time to give attention elsewhere. And that is inherently a good thing, to be fully present in your own life. That is a very good thing. Don't get me wrong, the ability to give attention and to notice the need for that attention is needed in this world. But, to judge someone else who can't give that attention for whatever reason, not truly knowing what they are going through, what responsibilities they have every day, to be angry that they didn't call you? That, well, that is a very bad thing.

One of my favorite, thought-provoking and take-a-step-back quotes (Plato) is this one: "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." And we all are. Whether it be the daily grind of a stay-at-home-momma or watching your loved one fight cancer, there is always a day to get through. A day, a gift, to enjoy despite the sorrows and the challenges, the monotony or the change, the loss or the bad emotion. Sometimes that is hard to do. We could all do well to remember that and make every effort to support each other and save the judgment for someone higher. We all need support - I know I do. I am just in awe (and not in a good way) of how ignorant this particular query is.

It is late, and I am tired - so I apologize for this little rant. I guess I didn't realize how much that article bothered me until I started writing this post. I was planning on putting it up because it made me laugh at first, and then I felt satisfied and almost vindicated in a way, toward all the people out there that wonder what a mom actually does who stays home with their kids all day. I have heard comments in the past, not to me, but to other mothers who just had their first and were privileged enough to stay home and raise their own child. I had little choice, but it is what I have always wanted to do, this is where I belong, where I want to be. Others with one made the heroic choice to lose one income, knowing that they might have to tighten their belts and it is a choice I highly respect. But, before I judge the working mothers who might have been able to stay home, I will step back and remember that "everyone is fighting a hard battle". It is your own choice and one that should be respected no matter what, for it is one of the hardest decisions life presents to us.

I hope I am not offending anyone out there reading this post. I do not mean offense in any way. I guess I am a bit peeved at the asker of this question and am aiming my annoyance at them. I am truly trying hard in my own life not to judge others, for it is something I do without even thinking. I am ashamed to admit that, but I do, no matter how hard I try not to. I have posted that particular Plato quote everywhere so that I may see it on a constant basis and be reminded that we are all struggling and do not need others tearing us down, even if it is in their own mind.

I am rambling...

We have lost so many friends in the recent past because we were too busy to return phone calls. Too busy, too tired, too overwhelmed...and I know that no one blames us in our situation because it is so obviously life altering. But the moms with a "normal" situation deserve that same slack too. So, if you are waiting on a phone call and don't get it, or don't see them as often, please understand that life has thrown them their own curveball and they need to learn how to deal with it first before they are able to juggle it all. We all have a learing curve with everything we do. And shaping a little life is hard! It's something I worry about screwing up every day, constantly watching my every word and action, trying to stay ahead of the curve (curve is the theme here!) all the time. With food, play time, imaginative time, naps, snacks, learning situations, etc...there is always input going into those little brains and it's our job to monitor that 24/7 to make the best of what they are receiving! Proactive has never been my strong suit. ;)

Anyway, I will stop the rambling after this...I really didn't intend for this all to come out like this, I just typed and typed away! So, again I apologize if I offended anyone with my words. That was not the intent at all. The exact opposite, really - to lift everyone up.

I want to say "good job" and give a great big ((hug)) to all those out there who made it through another day, celebrating or not. Another day of having to wait for your situation to change, another day of chemo, another day without the one you have lost, another day of changing endless diapers or cutting up food into itty bitty pieces and reading Goodnight Moon for the umpteenth time, another day of fighting for what you believe in, another day of movement when all you want is rest, another day of the same old, same old or constant, stressful change...Another Day. I hope and pray that you can say, at the end of this day, it was all so worth it because it was a gift, another day.

The Hot Rod and The Boots

2009-01-28T22:57:00.005-05:00

Little B has his little helpers, and they are here tonight to say hello! When they were introduced, as a mommy, I fought the urge to tell them they weren't welcome in my normal baby's life. After they stayed awhile, I realized that they will only be here for a short time...and that, I can live with if they help him to walk.

The PT, "Miss Pat", recommended the first - The Hot Rod. It's a posterior walker, meaning (I think) that it gives him support by his posterior and gives him the most important feeling and need to keep balance, momentum and control over his forward movement. It doesn't let him lean on it forward, just upright. So, it allows him to get up and basically teaches him to walk with the problems he has on his right side. I guess it's pretty common for kids with CP to use one of these, especially to jump start walking. It even has red handles and red tape holding the wheels together! lol

The Hot Rod

He has learned to walk with it - even to run, actually! He can keep up with his brother and sister, though his feet are angling outward and he sometimes runs on tippy toes. He still drags his right foot, but is amazingly starting to pick it up now. It's been an incredible help to him, and he really doesn't even like to crawl anymore - he crawls only to this walker and then zoom, zoom, zoom! He picks it up to go over minor steps in the floor, picks it up to turn it out of corners and even picks it up to avoid the ridiculous amount of toys littering the floor. He is downright giddy and good with it. I know he never would have been able to take the unaided steps he has without this walker and that's why it's his Hot Rod.

The other half of the supporting cast in Braden's Walking Production are some cute and plastic little boots. Or "oots" as they are so loving called. He will say "oot, on?" when it's time to put them on...so cute. They are officially AFOs, or Ankle-Foot-Orthosis, a common treatment for those such as B-Man. Orthotics that are custom molded to his feet, to stretch back his foot on a more constant basis. Mike and I and the therapists that are here three times a week have been stretching his feet religiously for months now with moderate improvement in tone. But it just wasn't enough. He keeps his toes perpetually pointed because it hurts him to flex his foot and therefore his extremely tight hamstring in the process. It's just more comfortable for him to stay pointed all day long and curl his toes down.

So, these orthotics will help to keep stretching him in his sleep - all night and during his naps. And it has already made a big difference, I think. He is getting new orthotics to help keep his feet, toes and knees in the right positions in order to learn to correctly walk. Those will hopefully be coming soon, now that we have the CP diagnosis. And they will be a third helper in the arsenal of weapons we have to beat this thing.

Unfortunately, these are really uncomfortable for him, always stretching him in the way he avoids, for hours and hours, and sometimes his tolerance snaps and he needs them off - now! Who could blame him? But, they look worse (and smell worse) than they really are. He's really been great at handling them. Should we be surprised?

Here's a pic of the Trooper in uniform...

He.is.so.good.

They are actually really cute - allowing us to pick from a gazillion designs for the straps and foam... we went with his green, some blue and a green and blue dino print. Very boy-ish. When did we have a boy instead of a baby here?

...and yes, those are my blue Christmas socks below the stinky plastic. What a mother wouldn't do...

A Few Updates

2009-01-27T23:01:00.003-05:00

Wow. Three Posts In One Day.

I think...no, I know that is a record for me!

I believe I have the site up and bug-free again, though I miss our old background fiercely. "Background? If you're out there, please come home?" This one is ok, since it's the only one I kinda sorta liked so far. ;)

So, that is done.

Also, I decided to publicize my organizing blog, 52 Weeks to Fix What's Broken. Please stop by and visit if you have any interest in organizing, finishing projects, losing weight, decorating, creating stuff, eating healthy, etc... I think it will be cooler to have a community of supporters, all reaching for the same, basic goals. We can help each other! C'mon over and share your projects!

So, that is started.

And.... drum roll please....

Braden took two steps today, all by his lonesome. Can you believe it? I think we are on a road to bigger and better things! I'll post a picture of his hot-rod tomorrow. What he couldn't have done this without and the last thing I wanted to show the public! Curious?

Arrgh.

2009-01-27T16:49:00.001-05:00

Still having problems...

The fonts are all wrong and I can't seem to change them...Hmmm...I hate this part of Blogging... Blogger.

Vomit Sponge

2009-01-27T15:38:00.015-05:00

Is it wrong to have two post titles within months of each other have "vomit" in the title?

Yep, cover your ears kids - it's time for another post about vomit.

Friday, after Braden's MRI, I emotionally crashed. We put the kids to bed and all I wanted was a cup of Dark Mayan Chocolate Coffee (awesome.) and to immerse myself in New Moon. Mike was getting a serious sinus cold, so combined with his allergies, he was out for the night. I needed a good dose of Edward.

I stoked the wood stove and planted myself on the floor, yes, on the floor, in front of it, and prepared to sink into oblivion.

I was about 3 sips and 2 chapters in...and I heard the thinnest of whines coming from upstairs. I am not even close, mind you, but with so many cries in the last few years, my ears are finely tuned. It was Cole, and I hoped he was still asleep.

I decided to ignore it for a moment, and desperately hoped that would be it. After a few minutes, my wish seemed to be granted and I folded back into bliss. The floor and my back were so nice and warm, the cat was purring on the side of my leg - and the Christmas lights in the front room were still there to provide just enough glow to read by. I was seriously in heaven.

And then the cry repeated itself, sounding so pitiful this time, I just had to go upstairs to check it out. I worried he might be having a nightmare. I optimistically placed the book upside down on the floor, still open, to return to in mere moments. I had already fallen into pace with the story (even though Edward was no longer there...) and my belly was still warm with the heady mix of chocolate and coffee. The fire was raging, not damped down for the night, and a few lights were still on.

I headed upstairs, and as soon as I hit the landing, I knew my night was already over.

The sickly-sweet smell of vomit reached my nostrils as I heard the third cry coming from inside the room. I felt a rush of resentment, followed quickly by pity and then dread. Walking in the room, there sat my sleepy-eyed and miserable Cole, soaked with throw-up from head to toe. Even from the dim glow provided by their night light, I could see that the walls and the slats of his crib were just covered, his pillow, the sheets, all soaked. He just looked up at me with a look that said, "fix it, Mommy, so I can go back to sleep."

I was quick to pick him up - though carefully away from me - and swooped him over to the changing table across the room. He was dutiful and remained silent, perhaps knowing that if his brother and sister woke up, his chances of going back to sleep were slim. Or maybe that was just my take on things.

He shivered and shook while I undressed him and wiped him down, and relaxed as I bundled him up in nice, warm and fuzzy new PJs. I laid him on the rug, covered with a blanket and ordered him in a whisper to stay put. He just watched me as I tried to silently change a crib sheet without waking babies a mere foot away. I managed, proud of my stealth (for I am not a stealthy person), to change the sheet and wipe the walls and crib slats down, finding that the side of the dresser needed the cleaning treatment too, without waking or even stirring the other two. Cole must have been both sick and sleepy, for he stayed on the rug (a 21 month old!) the whole time just watching me in silence.

I hugged him for a while and then placed him back in the crib with a new blanket and no pillow, and hoped he would sleep. I gathered the evidence and slipped quietly out of the room. I felt satisfied - changing him back into a snuggly, warm, sleeping boy.

With that satisfaction, I prepared to settle back into my own personal heaven, but figured that if he was sick, really sick, I might need to prepare my night for the worst. It was already after midnight, and I should have been in bed hours before, but I needed my little bit of pampering time.

I stoked the fire and damped it down, I prepared the house for slumber, I set up my bed on the couch in case he needed more from me than just a change and a bed dressing.

Then, I set myself down again, cringing for the worst. I was able to get another two chapters in, almost letting down my guard, when I heard the gagging. Sighing, I knew this part of my night was over, and worse, that a very exhausting part was about to begin.

I flipped off the last light and headed upstairs to try it all again. When I entered the room, though, the other two were already stirring. I panicked and froze. That would make it sooooo much worse! I quietly stole Cole out of his second personal mess and decided to bail before the "others" woke.

I've been reading too many vampire novels.

I quickly cleaned and changed Cole into another outfit and got him out of the room just in time. I had to leave the mess, but sacrifices had to be made for the good of the team.

I laid down on my second bed in the living room and brought him onto my chest, snuggling him as I used to do when he was a baby in the throes of a colicky night. It felt good. He slept for a bit, and I wondered briefly if I needed a bucket. "He threw up a bucketload twice, how much more does he have in him?" I stupidly asked myself. I fell asleep for about 15 minutes.

That's when I became a Vomit Sponge.

I don't know about you mothers out there, but I am sick of being a "body waste" sponge! I've been puked on, spit on, drooled on, peed on, even pooped on more times than I care to admit - I am sooo done with this!

Laying on my chest, he gave me about 2 seconds warning, only by slightly sitting up, that he was about to blow. Luckily I was wearing a very absorbent sweatshirt and PJ bottoms, so they caught it all. And I mean ALL of it. He heaved forever, and this time it was mostly all liquid.

Now, Mike had taken one of those night time cold medicines before bed which rendered him semi-comatose, so this is the first he heard of the bedlam going on. I just remember squeezing my eyes shut, holding him tight to me and just repeating "ugh, ugh, ugh, eww, eww, eww" over and over. Mike heard that. He came out of the bedroom for the last verse of his Vomit Serenade.

Surprisingly, I expected there to be puke on the couch and the floor, but, no...it was all on me. I felt...heavier. My sweatshirt tugged with the weight and I needed a shower. I changed as quick as I could with a 20 pound shirt on, wishing I could hop in the shower but knowing that was out of the question, and head back out to the living room to do it again. Changing him this time, he started to get grouchy...how much can a toddler handle at 2 in the morning? He wanted his crib, but it was still full of his last explosion. And after the outpouring of fluid and emotion, I doubted the kids upstairs were going to stay asleep for another change in the dark. So, I tried to hold him to me, this time with no pressure on his tummy, and begged him to sleep.

This is where the necessity of some parts of parenting triplets intersects with the luxury of a mom who might only have one. He did not want me. He wanted his crib. Months of training the kids to be good at sleeping alone were backfiring on me now. He wanted his crib. Not me. Not snuggly, protecting, warm Mommy...he wanted the crib. So, after an hour of fighting me to get off the couch, I was so tired and I let him go.

He took a few steps off the couch, stumbling to the softly lit Christmas tree...looked up at it... and then collapsed, tummy on the floor, falling instantly asleep. Hmph! He'd rather the floor than me? I took a mental note to be resentful of that when we were both rested again...But I was so tired, I actually left him there, my head was swimming and screaming for sleep and I went under a deep sea just as quickly. I woke up an hour later with a gasp, looking over at the spot where I thought Cole must have gone in a dream...and there he was. Still asleep.

On the cold floor! At least there was carpet beneath him. Feeling like a bad mom, I snagged him up and pulled him to the couch again. Luckily he stayed asleep and vomit free until dawn. A full 2-3 hours of sleep.

Oh, what a night.

Under Construction

2009-01-25T16:10:00.004-05:00

Please bear with me as I figure out what our new background will be...

The site I had taken our original one from decided to throw it out, which threw our whole site out of whack. All the little code I had written in to work along with this background is making any new background unusable...so I have to go with white for now!

And it's killing me. I so don't like bright white - unless it's on Daniel Craig's perfect teeth.

Humble Thoughts

2009-01-24T21:42:00.003-05:00

I want to let everyone know that Braden is good. He went through the procedure like the trooper he is and came out smiling. Literally. The nurses were gushing over him and couldn't believe just how good he was/is.

The MRI was supposed to be done at 12:30. That means we were to arrive at 10:30 for 2 hours of lovely chats with many of Kaleida Health's nurses and administrative staff. Pre-ops actually only took about a half hour of that time, and the rest was spent waiting in the....you guessed it The Waiting Room. In fact, they should really start calling it "The Interminable Wait Room" or simply "The Room You Will Be In For Hours".

The patient ahead of Braden was an hour late. So, that pushed off our scan for another hour. And then, that same patient ended up needing an additional half hour of scans. Another 30 mins to wait. Not a fair part of the system, I think, but then, I don't run a multi-million (billion?) dollar hospital...

All of this would be only a minor problem if Little B had been able to eat or drink a little. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything since he had dinner the night before. He could have had clear fluids up until 2 hours before we were to be there, but since he woke up at 8:45, we didn't want to push it. If we had known that we had an extra hour and a half to play with, he could have had some liquid refreshment to tide him over...but he didn't get to have anything.

And let me tell, you...if I were in his position, I would have been a raving lunatic by the time I had to go in! But, he was simply Braden, playing contentedly with all the other waiting children, loving the new stimulus and interaction. Side note - isn't it the cruelest thing to have a play kitchen in the play area with all the plastic food included if kids can't eat, the bananas and toast with a dollop of butter melting, the realistic but mini frying pan sizzling the fake bacon and eggs? I thought so! I kept trying to catch myself, hoping not to let a name of any type of food slip from my mouth, hoping my gaze wasn't then met with ten instantly ravenous little monsters! ;)

So, we were a little late going in, and he handled it typically beautiful.

We were allowed to go in until he went under the effects of the anesthesia, and it is slightly horrifying to kiss your baby on the cheek while his eyes roll back into his head. My stomach was in knots, hoping he would be alright and worrying about what they would see during that little glimpse into his growing brain.

Luckily, we didn't have to wait long.

And the news that we were expecting and ironically hoping to hear was confirmed. He has mild CP. And for some reason, my eyes welled up. I fought the tears that wanted to come because the realization of the definity of the diagnosis was heart wrenching.

Simply, our baby has brain damage. Yes, it is very slight. And yes, it only affects the motor function, rigidity and weakness of his right side. But, nonetheless....it is brain damage. And that was so hard to hear. Most likely because he is a triplet, and he was born second, he was deprived for oxygen just long enough to cause this minor damage.

He is having problems, and now we know what they are caused by, and where we can go from here. It is the best news we could have hoped for, facing down a multitude of possible outcomes, but to hear it confirmed was disheartening. We want the best for our son, like any parent does, and facing a future with 2 instant comparisons by his side, we will always be walking that fine line between babying him and holding him to a high standard. His siblings are physically perfect, and it hurts to know that this fact may haunt him, be baggage, so to speak, for the rest of his life. But then again, this is Braden we are talking about here - he might never give it a second thought, content in his unique physiology.

We never want him to feel inferior, but we never want to hold him back because we think he is incapable due to a handicap. Like I said, a fine line, and we are terrified to screw that up.

The awareness that nothing else is wrong with my baby's brain function stole over me many hours later, while holding him in my arms. I became grateful and humble, hit full force with the knowledge that it could have been so much worse...and that we are incredibly lucky to be where we are.

So, again, he is good - the doctors have said that he will be walking soon and that he will be fine - thank you so much for all of your kind prayers. And now we know where we are headed...finally in the right direction.

Need Some Prayers

2009-01-22T23:42:00.003-05:00

Hi everyone...

Braden goes into Children's Hospital tomorrow morning to get an MRI done on his precious brain. It's to determine if all the "experts" are right in pre-diagnosing him with a mild to medium case of Cerebral Palsy. He has shown all of the classic signs, we are told, and we are so worried about him.

He has to go under anesthesia for the procedure - too young to sit still. And that worries me too.

Motherhood is just full of worry, isn't it?

But it's also full of holding your babies tight and kissing their foreheads, smoothing their hair back and telling them to "sleep well, my love"....for tomorrow will bring us closer to knowing just what is different about you, and how we can get on the path to helping you to be the person you were meant to be, no matter what.

Please keep little B in your prayers, tonight and in the coming weeks...that he goes through the procedure well, and that what they find is what they are expecting to find. No matter what, we will fight to overcome it - he deserves all the help, in any form, that we can give him.

Resolutions?

2009-01-20T09:28:00.004-05:00

I don’t know what you would call them if not resolutions…Goals? Projects? Objectives?

Whatever the name, they are still things I would like to accomplish this year. My list is something I have been hacking away at for years, all but stopping once the kids were born. Everyday Life gets in the way of so much progress, however nice life may be; things just don’t get done. Some are Major Life Goals, some are little organizing projects. I plan to start a project every week and plug away until done. At the end of the year, I’ll see how far I’ve come because I will have a blogging record to check back upon.

Some high level goals – call it a 2009 Bucket List!

Some are professional:

Finish writing a book about Life with Infant/Toddler Triplets

Create a beautiful memoir for Ruger, about his life, and all dog’s lives.

Officially start Fetching Prints, my pet photography business (have a portfolio, clients, sessions on a regular basis)

Some are personal:

Me:

Finish the bedroom redecoration – make the headboard, the shelves, the canopy, etc…

Finish the bathroom remodel – storage for everything, organization, towel bars!

Lose 40-50 pounds and reclaim my wardrobe!

Determine if surgical muscle repair of my belly is necessary or if I can do it on my own

Be in the best shape of my life (again) ;)

Create a home office area that I can run my businesses out of and still create crafts in

Repaint the Living Room! Redecorate/Reorganize

Kids:

Finish their nursery (finally!)

Create a playroom for the kids – organize/decorate/set-up

Help Braden to Walk on his own. Do whatever it takes – physical therapy/orthotics/Botox/surgery/motivation. One of our greatest goals.

Learn to Teach the kids even more sign language!

Keep on the goal to help them to be smart, considerate, polite, helpful and gracious people

Us:

Save up enough money to plan and embark on our 10^th Anniversary Trip in June

Create a way to easily pick, plan and shop, then make dinner every night

Eat healthier, more organic, more natural, without paying much more than we are now.

These are just my major goals/wishes/challenges/annoyances; so many of these will require baby steps/goals to get there. I hope to accomplish much more this year! Some will take the whole year, some a few months, some weeks and some just one day. But the important part is that I have a road map to get there and direction makes all the difference.

Another challenge…we have no money. That is a serious obstacle when you are trying to organize your house and life. You have to get really creative! And when you are done, it may not look as nice as in a TLC show about organizing your house and life, but it will be done. I will take lots of advice and inspiration from thrifty friends like tartraz, decor8, Design Sponge and Design with Christine – borrow a little from NieNie’s style and from some pages of Erin Vey’s book of life. At least I can still take inspiration from the pages of Real Simple, Better Homes and Gardens and the Pottery Barn Catalog, even if I cannot afford the stuff on them. So much inspiration out there, it is a credit to the Internet to bring people together. Maybe IKEA will be the Godsend I am hoping it to be in these struggling financial times! Who knows.

I am starting a private blog to tackle these “projects”. Since I am an obsessive list maker and a writer, I think a blog could provide the ultimate motivation for me to get stuff done. It will be called “52 Weeks to Fix What’s Broken”. The title being how I feel about certain things in my life – defining anything “broken” as something I am not happy with and want very much to change it. Nothing is sacred – My marriage, my weight, my health, Mike’s health!, my bedroom closet, the kids’ nursery (still not finished…), the relationship with my sister, how I handle friendships, etc… so many things to overhaul and counteract the way I can be. I am a terrible friend, I am a serious procrastinator, I am super lazy and I am awfully unhealthy and fat. I know what you're thinking - does this girl ever shut up?? Another blog?? Sheesh. What can I say, I like to write...and I really like my lists. Just ask Mike - he thinks I am crazy with all the index cards floating around with the "do this, do thats" on them.

Anyway, I am keeping it private due to the sensitive nature of some pictures (i.e. FAT pictures of my post-triplet, pre-weight loss belly – a public showing of those ridiculous pictures will not help anyone if left to the google searches, finding the horrific images with one click and no warning.) Nope! Anyone who wants to be invited will know what they are signing up for and I can handle that. If you are looking for motivation or just curious about our little life or can help to motivate me, shoot me an email at ertelbear@gmail.com and I will send you an invite to view the blog.

Change is coming! I can no longer sit by and watch my life not be the way I want it to be. Everyone wakes up at some point in their life and says to themselves, “Today is the day I change it.” Everyone wakes up and is disgusted either with themselves or their life, unhappy with where they have ended up – and it is not your childrens’ fault, or your husband, or your job. It is up to you to fix what is broken in your life – as Mahatma Gandhi so eloquently put it and President Barack Obama motivates with – “Be the Change you want to see in the world.” Happy Inauguration Day, Mr. President. I will follow that forwarded advice and start, today. I will first change what is broken in me and then world – look out! You are next!

Cool Yule

2009-01-19T22:44:00.003-05:00

I think this may be the last, finally, the last Christmas-related post.

Picture, oh Picture! Where were you 4 weeks ago? I searched for you, I fought for you - I begged and pleaded and bribed for you. But you were nowhere to be found. Until last week. Too late for Christmas cards, but still in our memory banks and photo albums...and blogs.

Bathing, diapering and dressing 3 kids requires a staggered assembly line. I give baths to all three at once, letting one go to Mike at at a time. He takes the first and I work on the second. Then he lets the first run around free while he takes the second and I work on the third. That means a baby/toddler is running around the house free with both Mommy and Daddy's hands full. I think they are starting to recognize the sheer potential of that fact!

This night, Alex was first out and she found the sunglasses we tried to keep on them over the summer to no avail. And during winter, in the house, at night...she puts them on and walks between the rooms that Mike and me are in, giggling with glee - walking into the door frame on the way out of the bathroom! Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to bounce her off and stagger like a little drunk girl. I was laughing pretty hard, and so was she.

After bath, when all three kids had caught the fashion fever, we plopped the hats they wore in last year's Christmas picture and placed them in front of the tree. Instant Late Christmas Picture! Hope you had a Cool Yule!

*Muaaah* Baby!

The Album Cover

The Christmas Card, rockin' those serious faces...

A Beautiful Morning

2009-01-15T08:54:00.003-05:00

Yep, that's officially below zero here in Buffalo - and it's supposed to stay that way all day, in the negative... During the day! And it's even sunny!

It's darn cold, but this morning's sunrise was gorgeous. With the ice and snow - it's beautiful out there (as long as I am in here, I say). The windows are frosty and the sun just glowed through that thin sheet of ice. We also have an overflow of icicles due to this crazy cold weather - the old thawing + freezing + old house = insane icicles equation...

Doesn't it look like I am taking this from inside some abominable's frozen jaws? ;) Ok, maybe it's just me.

I wish my mother's camera were here to see this. ;( The little point and shoot was happy to fill in though.

Good morning!

Merry Make-It/Bake-It

2009-01-13T08:44:00.014-05:00

Phew! What a weekend. We are so glad it's over because it was a literal race against the clock to finish. Exhausting, stressful and frustrating! But then it got fun.

The Ertel Family has a long-standing tradition called "Make-It/Bake-It." You see, the object is to pick a name from the bowl (we picked at Easter last year) and think of something to either Make or Bake for that person. Up until this year, we exchanged on Christmas Eve (when we are all already super busy), and it is a much anticipated event! Since the last year was so hectic for us and the rest of the family didn't complain, we moved it to "Little Christmas", which is the weekend around January 6th. And then we postponed it another week. I think we would need just "another week" even if we had it in July. ;)

We all usually scramble the night before, struggling to finish in time. Procrastinators, all of us! Waiting to open the presents, the air is filled with the mingling scents of drying glue and paint and varnish and oil...it's so funny to have that evidence that projects have just been finished a mere hours before. We all laugh knowingly and I think it's an endearing part of the tradition!

The tradition was cancelled last year and postponed until this Christmas. And we were still working on our projects this past weekend!

Mike had an idea for a photo transfer to canvas. We found some interesting and "easy" instructions online and bought all of the supplies. We had to print the pictures, flipped horizontally, on paper with an inkjet printer specifically. Thought that part of it would be easy...but it turned out to be really difficult and pretty expensive. If we were printing a nice quality 16x20 on photo paper through Snapfish, it would be around 14.99. A crappy printout on paper cost us 16.00. It's $8.00 a square foot to print on PAPER! Stupid. And to top it off, we couldn't find any printing places that had an inkjet printer for large format prints anymore. We had to go to a blueprint place - a SPECIALTY store - to have it done. That's crazy. So we ran around like crazy people for a week, collecting supplies, thinking that would be the hardest part of the journey. BOY, were we wrong!

I tried it first on a small 8x10, to practice and glean important tips for Mike to use on his big and important project. It tanked miserably. No transfer and lotsa bubbles. I was so mad! It took all night to do it. Ok, go on the internet and find and try a different technique. Better, but still bad. My poor niece's face was unrecognizable. The ink transferred, but there were some very obvious mistakes and it was deemed ungiveable. So, Mike perfected the technique, taking every variable out of the equation, trying his small 8x10...and the next morning (which is now Friday morning)...it still tanked. Trying to rub the paper off, we easily rubbed the ink off too in spots that needed to be there. It was sooooooo frustrating!

We hated to say it, but we had to abandon all the money and time invested. It was time for Plan B.

On Saturday morning, 24 hours before project completion, he started over. Talk about stress! Mike hates doing this as it is - so he was ridiculously stressed out. He came up with a great idea and after some modifications to make sure he could find the supplies that he needed he came up with his project and finished it just in time to take it with us. Yikes!

He ended up making these really cool metal placemats - made out of a thin sheet of aluminum, a sheet of plexiglass and then backed with a thin layer of cork. Then, he took a drill with a wire wheel brush and brushed an amazing pattern all over the face of the metal. He polished them up and sprayed a coat of glossy clear paint over the top to finish it off. They had a very cool, modern look! I was so proud of him! And, he thinks he's not creative...Pshaw! They turned out awesome.

My project was mostly done last year, so I was able to help him a little while I put the finishing touches on mine. I made three stepping stones with a mosaic stained glass pattern for my mother-in-law, putting all of the grandkids' names on them and the words "Grandma's Growing Buds" with a flower bud next to each kid's name. I was actually not stressing about finishing, which is an absolute first. But, I did have 2 years to do it. ;)

The exchange was fun - we had dinner and then piled in the family room, anxiously awaiting the reveal. We started with my mother-in-law and then went from there. So, she gave her present and then the person who received then gave, and so on.

Mom had Marlene - she made her a beautiful Christmas wreath for their new house!

Then, she gave her a pretty gold box that when opened revealed their Grandmother's recipes, all the recipes that we adore eating. This box was actually their grandmother's and it was filled with the cards in her handwriting - what an amazing gift, passed on.

Marlene had Uncle Tom - she took the Bake-It option and make him this humongous basket filled with chocolate treats galore! Chocolate covered pretzels, White Trash, caramel and chocolate coated popcorn, cookie bars - it went on and on! It looked so good and we were all drooling...so he opened the popcorn for us to sample - it was addicting, to say the least.

Uncle Tom had Mike - he made him a very cool and appropriate tool bench supply organizer. He had places for all the essentials you usually just have lying around, like towels and scissors and string. It was a great idea and something Mike could really use! He painted it all a nice gray/blue color and thought of everything. He even included some of the necessities!

Mike had Kristin, and he gave her the awesome placemats - she really like them! Everyone was trying to tell him that he has way more talent than he gives himself credit for - they all loved his work, but of course he was dwelling on the tiny imperfections only he could see - my darling perfectionist husband. ;)

Kristin had Mary Jane - she has a business making incredible stained glass pieces and jewelry. So, she made MJ an unbelievable glass piece, a wall or window hanging - with intricate beads and slender chains and textured glass panels, all made to look vintage, which is MJ's favorite look. It was incredible. I couldn't get a good picture to do it justice, but believe me, we were all drooling again! It was Gorgeous with a capital G.

MJ had Matthew and made him this beautiful and adorable picture of their family, she mounted it on a canvas and texture painted the background and then added a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote. It was so nice and so personal - a beautiful addition to their wall art!

Matt had me - and since this is my blog, I can go on and on about how much I loooooooooooved my gifts. He made me, not one, not two, but THREE gifts! I first opened an immaculate and beautifully detailed cutting board. It is smooth, super thick and incredibly heavy! He laser engraved two familiar quotes on each side in two different and gorgeous fonts (I am a font junkie). The first was "We may not have it all together, but together we have it all" and then "Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much". It is perfectly made, absolutely stunning. And then he gave me more - as if that wasn't enough!

The other two gifts were something I have always wanted...

This picture shows the before - see the copper roof tiles on the wall in the background? There are two of them and I have always wanted them framed and had asked my dad a few years ago to do it for me and he just didn't have time, so he returned them. :(

Recently, I gave up this dream and decided to just hang them as-is. I was ok with it, even though I longed for them to be framed! Matt knew this....so his gift was to frame them for me! He made frames with beautiful wood from our own barn - probably super old and rough-hewn, lots of weathering. They turned out awesome; perfectly matching what was in my head as the ideal frame for them. They add so much to the copper and to our house! I am pretty darn happy with my gifts - Thank you, Matt!

I had Mom, and made the stones for her - she loved them! Dad handed her the box of tissues before she got them, thinking she would cry. Too funny. Yep - that's always my goal, make someone cry.

Mom had already gone, so we passed it to Dad, who had Patrick. Dad made him a beautiful maple flower box and stuffed it full of gorgeous and interesting exotic house plants. It turned out so simply beautiful and looked like it took a ton of work to get the sides to join. He is one talented guy in the woodworking department!

And then....Patrick had Dad! He made him one of those really cool personal swings you see on porches, that hang from the beams above. Usually made out of canvas, Patrick made this one out of heavy duty stretchable denim, PVC tubes and sturdy rope. He included a pillow, a footrest and the essential beer holder pocket. Dad loved it!

The end.

We drew for next year already, so we have more time to fret over what we are going to make, since it will still only be done in that last week. We'll never change!

Christmas Lights

2009-01-11T15:07:00.006-05:00

All things still Christmas around our home and blog, I finally took a picture of the outside of our house with the lights up...something I have been wanting to do for years! We love to decorate, inside and out because we morph into little kids at Christmas! Ok, who am I kidding? For people who don't drink coffee or much alcohol even, who prefer chocolate milk, pop and hot chocolate - who love to stay home (we call ourselves self-imposed hermits) and play video games all night (or, er, used to, before the kiddos) and who love to get remote control airplanes and Harry Potter books for Christmas - we were already kids to begin with...

Then, Christmas brings out the kid in us even more so, I should say! We literally drape the house in lights, stuff it with decorations and keep them up until April. You think I am kidding, and some days, when we might have, say, the tax lady come to our house for the appointment in mid-February, shocked at the out-of-place decor, I am embarrassed to still be living in a Christmastown timewarp. Though, the rest of the time, we love living in a house where our regular lights don't have to be used for months! The glow from the thousand twinkling lights is enough to illuminate our evenings. It is so incredibly cozy, and we love it that way - so we savor it for months. Call us crazy...and little kids who never grew up...and we would agree with you wholeheartedly.

Here's our house lights, which we keep on until January 31st - bummed to be keeping them off from then on...and hiding the fact that we are still enjoying the holiday inside the house! There's usually more in the form of deer and pre-lit trees and more trees with lights, and light balls, etc... and also the snow is actually hiding some of the bushes - but we chose to take it easy this year - this is our "dimmed down" version, hopefully saving us some pocket change from the less used electricity. ;)

Right in front of the house

From our curve around driveway

The view from the road

20 days and counting.............

"It is never too late to have a happy childhood." - Claudia Black

What happens....

2009-01-09T23:04:00.003-05:00

Ok, quiz time!

So, what happens when you leave the room for 10 seconds to get three water cups, come back and realize that your 20, almost 21-month-old son (Cole) has snagged the digital camera off of the just-taller-than-him-speaker by the lanyard and is walking around with it?

Well, my first answer, since it was off, and it was only 10 seconds is...nothing.

I would be very wrong and guilty of underestimating a 12 year old in a 21 month old body.

10 SECONDS! ON, SNAP, SNAP, OFF....and hand it back to Mommy. How did he do this so fast? And without me knowing? I giggled pretty hard after finding this one.

"We're sending you a photo message, Mommy, that you will find soon...that we are smarter than you think...and there are THREE of us!"

Scary. :)

Christmas Day

2009-01-08T23:11:00.003-05:00

Well, I have been wanting to get the few pictures I took on my mother's camera while we were visiting them on Christmas Day, since I do not have any pictures taken with our little cam while we were there. Alex looked so cute in her red dress with furry cuffs and a big bow on her buddha belly. Sooooo cute. But the pics are all in a different house, on a different camera... *sigh*

Since I haven't gotten them, these will just have to do!

Christmas morning at our house was....late. Since we went to Midnight Mass and the kids didn't go down until about 11:30, we let them sleep in as late as they wanted to - I think they got up at noon! We ate some breakfast - another food story - Mike's parents always set us kids up with two of the best breakfast foods, ever. Slab Bacon - for you non bacon conisseurs out there, this is the prime rib of bacon - yeah, baby! Alex has already turned into a raving lunatic in the presence of any bacon, so this stuff was like gold. And the other half - Almond Puff. A pastry to die for - his mom makes the best, it melts in your mouth! And the combination - with a wine glass full of egg nog - gotta feel sophisticated whilst introducing this much fat into your system - is simply divine. Add that to this glorious woodstove and you've got a higher power working here... Life is good, Life is cozy.

One can only handle so much of the famous and heavy (and much appreciated!) breakfast, so we ate, nibbled really, on our goodies and opened presents within a very short time. I was popping little bits of bacon into their mouths in between them hovering over daddy for more toys! All of this happened between 2:00 and 3:00, finally finishing in time to get dressed and leave for my parents house for dinner! But, since they really needed a nap, we put them down and we were really late for dinner. Darn schedule! We really only got there about 20 minutes late, but they were already cleaning up! Yikes! So we set the kids up in their highchairs and wolfed down our own dinner just in time for more presents. Ah, Christmas.

Triple the Fun on Christmas Morning

Discovering the new block tower!

Stack it up, Daddy?

Opening the new Train!

That smile again! I think he likes it.

Riding double!

And a new fort! (Takes up way too much room *cough*)

Hi, Baby Girl!

So, the train was the kids' favorite...and my favorite? A cool new purse...with the first Twilight book tucked inside. Nice. (Thanks Bethie!) And Mike's....of course, it was the lightweight remote control helicopter, duh!

Hopefully I can get those cutie pie pictures of Alex and post them before Valentine's Day.

Yep...

2009-01-07T23:04:00.005-05:00

That's my son wearing my sports bra on his head. He had a ball showing it off around the house until we became aware of his new head gear, giggling like a...well, a little kid!! That's Cole, by the way, for future reference. Gotta build up those bribe-worthy stories for the teenage years!

Today, I am so proud to be a mother.

Christmas Eve

2009-01-06T09:30:00.004-05:00

If I wait any longer, I'll be posting for next year!

We decided that "Double Duty" both days would be too hard with the kids - heck, it was always too hard on just us, having to leave after just a few hours with each family on both days! So, we picked a family for each day and drew the line. Mike's family for Eve and mine for Day. Sounds good!

Eve is secretly my favorite day of the year, it has always been (now you know something more about me!) and when I met Mike's family, they kicked it up a notch for me. Can you say homemade peirogis and homemade polish sausage?! Heck yeah! Wow. They are so good, it's hard to stop even after you have to in fear of your stomach possibly exploding. And then you still eat more. Cheese and sauerkraut, yum. One of each, please. And a big link of sausage, with ketchup (sorry, Papa!) and then those amazing cream cheese mashed potatoes...rolls, cucumbers in sour cream, olives, some wine and the infamous "green junk", which only makes an appearance at Easter, Thanksgiving and of course, Christmas. Mike is in love with green junk - unfortunately, I am not a fan of lime jello, so I stay away, a secreted fact that almost got me ostracized from the family while we were dating! It's that loved, trust me. Only after they realized that me not liking it meant less to share was I allowed to stay on. ;)

MJ and I helped with the making of the pierogi this year and it gave me a new found appreciation for just how much work goes into these little beauties. I think knowing that made them taste even better this year! Great job Grandma and Papa! And Papa makes and smokes his own sausage every year - I think more than just once a year - and it is nothing short of awesome, even if I happen to like it with a smear of mustard and ketchup... ;)

Dinner was amazing again, as always, and the kids gobbled up everythng in sight. Alex was even screaming for more at one point after I swore I just dropped a bunch on her tray. I looked at her and asked, "Where did it all go?" And she just looked up at me and did that cute little kid shrug, with her hands in the air, like..."I can't help it! This food is awesome!"

The trio hunkered down at the end of the table, scarfing it all down...

Don't let him fool you, he was posing for this one.

After dinner we lazily moved to the family room to open up the pile of presents growing by the beautiful tree. So many! And we met Mr. Smiles. The new addition to the doggie part of our extended family, living with the Bartrams and becoming Oliver's new brother/best buddy. He came in with this sweater on...now, I am not a sweater-on-a-dog type person, it's usually humiliating for the dog, but this one...this one was adorable. I fell in love with him! He was very well behaved and gave kisses and met everyone and then slept behind Patrick most of the night. What a cutie!

Alex checking him out

Kisses

Isn't the sweater cute??

The Monster Pile of Presents

Having more fun with the wrapping paper!

And the TRAINS! Papa introduced my boys to the magical train under the tree. Braden stayed there practically all night next to him, pushing the lever and making the "choo-choo" sound about a thousand times. It was adorable to see his grins and giggles. Cole loved it too, but Braden would not let him touch it, so he lost interest after a while!

Gotta love that smile!

So, Trains...and Frogs. Braden likes frogs for some reason, and when he found this one hanging out by itself on the floor, it was no different!

Thanks to MJ, who stayed at our house to listen for the sleeping kids, we were able to go to Midnight Mass together. Just Us! No kids! It was super relaxing and nice to be able to hold hands and sing, and just focus on Jesus, for once not wrestling a 30 pound toddler. Thanks MJ! What a great Christmas present.

Next post, Christmas Day!

O, Christmas Tree....

2008-12-31T15:27:00.010-05:00

Alex, Braden and Cole....cold and (kinda) happy looking for a Tree!

Yep, we'll now start from the beginning. Of the Christmas Season.

Let's get a tree!

We started cutting ours down a few years ago at this cute little place outside of Warsaw called Birdhaven Tree Farm. It's the whole experience! Hot chocolate, chili, awesome chicken soup and that Norman Rockwell feeling. Santa's there and you can borrow one of their sleds to slide down one of the massive hills they have there, careening into the patrons huddled around the fire pit. It's fantastic! There's even a "house" dog that might just follow you around to pick out a tree to grace your living room. I can't remember her name, but she's a beautiful and spunky black lab that decided to join Mike and I last year when we scuttled in on a weekday to peruse the grounds. I guess it must have been boring and all, what with no one else around that day!

Well, this day it was crowded - like a normal weekend day - with people and dogs (we brought Cody) and rain. Blech.

It was impossibly cold for it to be raining, it must have been hovering around that magical freezing point, so it was cold and wet - the kind of damp that sneaks into your bones and sets up camp, creating the need to shiver it away on a constant basis. There were sniffles all around from the temperature and even our camera took misty pictures, as if it were miserable too.

It also made the snow super heavy and slushy, the harder to pull a garden cart with three 30 pound babies stuffed into snowsuits, corralled inside, wanting to get out. Mike had a heck of a time getting up the hills! Glad I am a girl! Hee hee.

Mike's parents also came with us - it was our intent to lure them into the magical tree town and get them so hooked that they could think of nothing else but coming again with us next year. We love to huddle everyone in on great traditions in our lives, if you haven't noticed!

The tree hunt was fast, since it was cold, and our tree of choice, a Concolor Fir, is so darn sparse in these parts. We only had a few to choose from, all too ridiculously large to contemplate for our modestly ceilinged living room. But we took one anyway, preparing to stuff it and us in the room for the next few months. Hey, Christmas is about sacrifice, right?!

We found a pretty blue-green hued number and ordered Mike to hack away while we kept the babies distracted from jumping ship...er, um,...cart. Dad and Mike got it down lickety-split and we head back down to grab some goodies. It was a treat to watch him slide the cart back down that slushy hill, let me tell you... ;)

It was still fun, as always, though we did miss Ruger a ton - we had decided last year to bring both of the boys with us and the kids this Christmas, so we were a bit misty eyed and nostalgic, wishing he were along for the frosty trip, knowing he would have had an absolute ball. Oh, well. I guess you can't have everything.

Here are some of the misty, frosty, wet and slushy pics we got from the great Christmas Tree Trip, 2008:

Getting Ready to leave the warmth of the truck...

Papa and his Triplets

Trees as far as the eye can see, if you could open them up in the drizzle...

Moooooooommmmmm! I'm cold.

Making short work of the cutting down of the behemoth...

What a shame and a beauty at the same time

Yep. That would be Cody peeing on the one right next door. So proud.

Grandma and her babies

Inside, ready to EAT!

Even Cody was soaked

Hay Stack Mania

When we head inside - yay! Only a little warmer but a LOT drier and we got to sit on hay stacks! Woo hoo! And they had food, so it was great. We chowed down on many good things, but all the kids wanted were the Cheetos of the Lady Next to Us. Again, so proud.

Stealing yet another one from the absolute stranger...a kind one, but still a total stranger. They just walked up to her and stood there, not talking, just expecting! Kinda funny, but soooo rude! (My kids) lol

"Got any more in the bag, lady?" -Princess Alex

When they are wet and cold and ready for a nap, and you ask them for a picture in Santa's Chair - what kid wouldn't want THAT? All you have left is to bribe them with a cracker.

The finished product? Only decorated on the top 2/3rds and in a total rush? Stuffed in like a calzone filling into our living room, wrapped by the couch and the wall? Here it is, and beautifully natural, though it is predictably, lovingly and rather goofily large.

My Handsome Boys

2008-12-30T14:55:00.004-05:00

Watch out all you single ladies out there under 2... My boys are already throwing out the charm! You will be powerless to stay away...

They get their goofiness from both of us, I'm afraid...a double whopping dose of dorkiness. But, I have to say, it works for them!

Cole.... "hellooooo ladies!"

Braden.... "Oh, yeah, I'm a cutie."

My boys!

I am sure you all know the reason I have not been blogging, I can't do triplets and Christmas and blogging at the same time - WAY too much for my little brain to handle...but now that the Christmas season is over, I can actually write about it...and you'll have to pretend like it's still Christmas...and like it.

;)

Virtual Mail!

2008-12-22T15:12:00.005-05:00

I know virtual mail is really e-mail, but it sounded cooler.

Since our Christmas Cards went out late, as usual - and since I grossly under-ordered this year, many people will be getting their cards after Christmas. Not exactly my intent... ;)

So, I thought, "Why not post it up?" It's fast, fun and best of all....free. Have you SEEN the cost of stamps these days? *News Flash* to the ol' Post Office...you might want to try lowering your prices to make people come back. Hmm. When we can't afford to send out cards, you know the economy is in trouble!

Even though this was our first draft and a few things changed, and because Snapfish s*cks, I could not get a screen shot of the actual order. Oh, well. Enjoy the first draft!

So, Virtual Family, here's our Christmas Greeting to you now, enjoy the print after the holiday. Kisses!

With Love from the Ertel Five,

Happy Birthday Dada!

2008-12-16T22:47:00.002-05:00

I just wanted to send out a BIG Happy Birthday to the love of my life, my partner, my best friend.

Happy Birthday Dada. You are the amazing father of my children, our auto mechanic, my therapist, our super delicious pancake creator, and the cleanest person I know. I love that about you. ;)

Your eyes make me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Your dimples have me giggling like a little girl. The kids absolutely adore you and you are an incredible father to them.

You are courageous, sooooooo intelligent it scares me and possess a contagious love for life. Put that all in a package with your sensitive nature and your super sarcastic sense of humor and I am hooked.

You are a grown up big kid, an animal lover supreme and make me feel so lucky that you are in my life every.single.day.

Happy Birthday, Baby, and we love you so much!

My Little Babushkas

2008-12-15T15:24:00.003-05:00

Recently, after giving my mother's awesome camera back and starting once again to grab the point and shoot we have, I found a bunch of pictures from about a month ago that I had forgotten all about! Nothing major, just a little bit of happiness here and there - which is always a good thing. ;)

So, this is one of the groups - we were playing with scarves one day - I am a big fan of simple, old-fashioned toys. I have a bunch of old scarves that I stuffed into a plastic container with a big lid that screws on and they love to play with it! If they can't get the top off, they come to one of us and say "OH-pan!" (Open) in their cutest, squeakiest, attention-getting voice. Sometimes they get it backwards and say "Cohwse?" (Got a guess? Close!) and it's so gosh darn adorable.

This day, we were throwing them in the air amid squeals of delight, wrapping them around, Audrey Hepburn style, and playing tug-of-war. I swear we played with these for about a half hour! But the best is them letting me make a babushka for them. Cole even stayed put and turned his head side-to-side with a little smirk on his handsome face once it was wrapped around, proving he is, without a doubt, Polish. They all loved this activity and it's been a favorite ever since. I've got such good kids.

Some days. :)

I guess this was one of them!

Cutest. Picture. Ever.

2008-12-11T23:59:00.003-05:00

Alex smooching her brother, Cole.

Alex started the kissing craze, now Braden is a kissy face too! Cole is the proud/shy/tough one of the group, sparingly doling out the puckers. I love it!

Fun Fortunes

2008-12-09T13:03:00.004-05:00

So, we were sitting and eating Chinese the other night - well, Mike and I were, the babes were eating their usual avocado, cheese, hummus and pasta, etc... stuff they adore, but they kept pointing and grunting at us and being generally annoying. Have you ever seen Finding Nemo? Well, if you have, you know the famously atrocious seagulls..."Mine! Mine! Mine!" - So true and so very annoying. That is the phase we have entered - better known as "Finding Nemo Seagull". Except their sound is more like a "Hmm?! Hmm?! Hmm?!" Cute, but I must say, it gets old very fast. I feel like copying the Pelican that yells at them with a loud "Willlllll youuuuu SHUUUUUUT UPPPPP?!" Of course, I don't...but I feel like it sometimes - especially when I am on the phone. ;)

So, as we're enjoying chicken of the Sweet and Sour and General Tso's variety, we are being serenaded by the Chorus Of A Thousand "Hmms?!" They wanted the Chinese.

We looked at each other, knowing the General Tso's was not as near as hot as it should be and decided to broaden their horizons. Though I cringed at the toss up between their current meal and the MSG loaded fare we were stuffing into our own faces.

We cut some up and handed it over - and they LOVED it. Go figure! I should have known - there is not much they don't like. Braden was the only one that grimaced after tasting the Tso Sauce. So, he got the rest of the Sweet and Sour. Alex would eat a piece and before she was finished chewing, she would crane her neck forward toward Mike with her mouth wide open, looking like a baby bird, waiting for more. It was hilarious!

So, chalk one more up on the Baby Like list. General Tso's Chicken. Too funny!

After dinner we broke out the Fortune Cookies and I wanted them to have a taste of this "cookie" too. They love cookies. What kid/grown up doesn't? ;)

I took one from the pile specifically for giving to them. I unwrapped and broke it open and...a funny thing happened. Three fortunes came out. How weird is that?! I am of the camp that everything happens for a reason - made only stronger after our whirlwind push into parenting for many long-winded reasons.

Needless to say, I was tingling after seeing these three fortunes appear!

I pulled the first one up for Cole:

"Life to you is a dashing and bold adventure." Neat. That's him!

The second was for Alex (this was the way they were sitting next to each other):

"You will be unusually successful in business." Neat...Go Alex!

And the last for Braden:

"You will have good luck and overcome many hardships." Spooky.

Then Mike opened his normally stuffed cookie and read his:

"There is a true and sincere friendship between you both." Cute, and very true.

At this time I was feeling the glow of God himself, sending us a message through China King.

So, I tempted fate and opened mine...

And lost all faith in the system. ;)

I opened mine and it was another abundantly fertile cookie full 'o fortunes. This time it was two. And they were exact opposites.

"You have a quiet and unobtrusive nature."

"You are sociable and entertaining."

In the same cookie. Oops! Bummer - magical feeling gone.

Oh, Randomness you spite me! ;) I guess I should never believe what I read. Maybe that was the reason I got the last one? Huh. *Me still trying to read a pattern in all of this*

Bye for now!

OH! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY AUNT ROEY! WE LOVE YOU!

Blogging or Sleeping? Hmmm....

2008-12-05T10:51:00.004-05:00

I really stink at blogging. :)

I go for a few weeks, writing every few days and I can keep up. And then December happens. Christmas prep, Mike's birthday prep, ortho appointments, pediatrician appts, ophthamology appts, sickness every few days, up all night giving nebulizer treatments and I can officially say that I feel like crap. So, it's blogging that suffers. I'm either not sleeping and blogging or not blogging and sleeping! It's a toss up most days as to what I prefer, since sleeping and writing rank up there in the top 5 for me, but lately my body has been superceding my need to write.

So, I just wanted to let you know that we are still here and still creating those blogging moments, but they just haven't made it here yet. I guess I should get in the habit of writing shorter posts more frequently...yeah! That's what I shall do, at least for this month. And maybe in boring January you will get sick of my twice a day posts... ;)

So, here is proof that we are not all just bon bons and bubble baths!

Official "Outtakes" from Christmas Pictures - Take 3

Though Outtakes implies that we actually have something to go with that was better than the outtakes, right? We don't really - and that's the bummer! Take Number 4 may never come. No more time left! These are just pictures to let you know what I am up against...the behind the scenes chaos that is our every day life. People ask if they cooperate for us all at the same time for naps, food, play, etc... Well, here's the painful answer:

Up.

Down.

Cole has turned into Jello Man.

Nice.

"WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SIT HERE???!!"

Perfect smile from B, no one else in sight.

Vomit Wars

2008-11-18T23:25:00.003-05:00

Ok, so fair warning...do not read this post if you are:

a woman who has not yet had kids

a man who thinks he might want to have kids someday

a man who doesn't want kids ever (you wouldn't be here anyway, most likely - who am I kidding?!)

a man who has kids and says stuff like "Oh! Wow! The baby has a poopy diaper!" Loud enough for us to hear so that we come and save you...even though you would never ask us to come change it for fear of never living the whole "balance of work" thing down

a woman who is thinking of having kids soon (this may scare you away, and I definitely don't want to be responsible for THAT!) ;)

In other words, unless you are currently a mother, you have never been through this and I warn that you may find this post distasteful.

'Nuff said. Anyway, moving on...

The Vomit Wars have begun.

We have all been sick since Braden came home from the hospital...and thankfully, I have had the easiest time of it all. In fact, at this very moment, Mike is currently in the bathroom praying to that all-powerful porcelain god. I know, TMI, even for you iron-stomached mommas out there. ;) There's something about hearing someone vomiting, especially someone close to you, that pulls out all the empathy you are capable of.

I have been playing it as a competition of sorts, even posting it up on the white board for all to see, letting them each get an edge on the others, egging them on to not get beat in the game! I am sooo kidding of course, but I am keeping tally for myself so that I can keep track of who puked when and what, how many diapers were used in the filming of this sickness, and any medications that might be causing the whole mess.

As of Friday:
Vomit War Tally
Alex - 1
Braden - 5
Cole-4

It's dang hard to keep up on who needs more fluid, who might be allergic to this antibiotic and who might need some serious Pedialyte and a call to the doctor. At one point Cole drank his entire sippy cup full of cool water. I was psyched! Sitting in his highchair, he ate nothing, only drank. I'll take it. About 10 minutes later, all of that water was back out in his tray. Back to Square One. Now, add Mike to the white board and I just lost my parenting partner! I really don't know how people do this alone. I am fighting sleep because I know that as soon as my head hits the pillow, a cry will ring out in the night. So, I blog.

After B came home with remnants of his bronchiolitis in tow, the nice doctors told us to expect a little vomiting. You see, a little known fact is that kids can't purge the excess mucus any other way, since they can't blow their noses yet, it all ends up in their stomach and inevitably on the highchair tray, the carpet, the couch or in their sister's hair. Who knew?

So, we expected it. The other two were sick while B was away - we almost thought Cole would join him, but he skated through. So, vomiting expected there as well. And it happened. And happened some more. Thank God for those tall sides on the highchair trays! It contained inches of pukey liquid for less work in the end for me! Yahoo! It's still puke. I shouldn't be that excited. It still has to get from Point A to Point B. Age old dilemma - In the sink or the garbage? I change it up to make me feel like I am sometimes doing the right thing. Good times.

Already the endless laundry. Enter diarrhea. Never a welcome guest. And his explosive cousin, let's call him "Squirt", makes for a very messy bedfellow. Disgusted yet? I am. I soooo am. Blankets and sheets and pjs...just covered. Up to a load every few hours now.

On Sunday: (woke up at 10:30am, down for nap at 3:00, up at 7:00, down at 9:30) only awake 7 hours, and to get these kind of numbers!!!!

Vomit and Diarrhea War Tally
Alex - 0 vomit
Alex - 4 poop (can you still call it that?)
Braden - 2 vomit
Braden - 6 poop
Cole - 3 vomit
Cole - 4 poop

All three took a trip to the doc last Friday. The boys are recovering and had a mild ear infection, not bad, not even enough to be put on antibiotics. But, Alex has a severe double infection, so she was prescribed one. And since the boys still sounded junky, their noses were so full, their wheezes still there, and a hint of an infection, they were awarded one too. We left the office with $100 in prescriptions to pick up. Again. Ugh. How are we supposed to afford this winter?

We started the rounds, and just our luck, by Sunday afternoon, Squirt arrived with a vengeance. Every hour we were changing an exploded diaper - ok, so it was just me - that looked like wet sand. Can't feel good on an irritated bum. And it kept getting worse! Every change required a PJ change (we learned quickly not to put them in anything that needed to go over their heads!). The kids were starting to get rashes and were losing fluid like crazy. They weren't really eating before, now they stopped altogether. We put them to bed that night with a larger size diaper and also a cloth one fitted inside it. I had hoped it would absorb at least some of the mess overnight. Changing sheets in the middle of the night is near impossible if you want the other two to stay sleeping. Thankfully, we didn't have to go there. Braden was the only one who woke up early the next day with an urgent mess, but most of it was contained. Phew! I had nightmares of poop on the walls, floor and ceiling. His sheets were dirty though, so he slept in my arms in the rocking chair for the following three hours until the other two woke up needing to be cleaned. I have to admit it was kind of nice cuddling with my babe.

At some point throughout the day I started working on this brilliant yet extremely simple math equation:

Empty stomach + Harsh Antibiotic = Severe Diarrhea

Huh. I'm a genius. (DUH! Why didn't this thought come any sooner?!) The diarrhea and vomiting could be mimicking a stomach bug, but neither Mike or I were sick with that kind of bug too, only a sinus infection.

I called the doc and he wanted to test them without the antibiotic. We're still testing, 2 days in. So far, the tally has decreased dramatically, only a few, less explosive diapers each and I am happy to report, no more vomiting. Yay! It seems as though it was the antibiotic causing the problems. But....now Mike is sick with a stomach virus. Huh. Now, I'm confused! And they are still not really eating anything but bread. I'm watching for their tear production as it has definitely decreased..scary stuff, watching for dehydration in three sick kids.

Alex is not like herself at all, walking around like a whiny zombie. All she wants is a lap to sit in or a pillow to crash on. If neither is available, the floor steps in to substitute. It's so sad. I hate seeing them this way, and for so long! So, we're not out of the woods, yet, folks.

Anyway, they are all sick and I am typing away, hoping to keep them all sleeping, including Mike! And the next post will be back to the non-stereotypical allowance of readership. Enjoy!

Hard at Work

2008-11-17T14:40:00.004-05:00

Though it would break my heart to see it, I wanted to include this addition to the last post. I thought it was funny because Mike sent this to his co-workers to assure them that he had Braden working hard on his Daddy's programming to make up for the time Mike lost. Hee hee.

He told them that B-Man was better than his Daddy, even with one hand. ;)

He is just like his Dad. (He's actually watching his Sesame Street video, but shhhhh....don't tell anyone!)

In the Hospital...

2008-11-11T13:31:00.004-05:00

Well, I am bummed to say that I started writing this from the hospital. Here's how my entry began:

Mr. Braden has landed here after a whirlwind cold that kick-started his asthmaticky, Reactive Airway Disease-ish, symptoms. I say them both that way because all of the doctors thus far have hesitated to diagnose him with a condition because he is too young for them to be sure...even though they are about 99.9% sure already. Now, he has bronchiolitis and needs oxygen and steroids to get through it all because of the asthma. Welcome winter! Blech. We arrived at the ER doorstep on Sunday night, Monday morning. Thankfully, we were the only occupants at 4am and were ushered in immediately. He was having such a hard time breathing, we could only wonder what was going to happen next. Our doctor told us to go quickly, which scared me even more. Yet, B was still smiling and talking to us from the car seat all the way there. His little chest was heaving with the effort, it was killing us to watch him suck air in. Even the ER docs all could not believe what good spirits he was in for his state. He was borderline hypoxic...which for us non-medical types..is bad. Very bad. We were in for a long night of breathing treatments and oxygen, wondering if it would have any effect. It was a scary night/morning/day. "Just the rest of the day" turned into "tomorrow morning" which turned into a "few more days".

If this is all news to you, B-Man has loads of issues...but I must say, all of which he is handling beautifully. What issues, you ask? I can update you now, if you'd like! Grab a seat and some coffee and let's chat. Though it will make this post a little long, I am afraid, we'll make it through together!

Of the three, Braden is the most physically sensitive one...or delicate even! Haha, that makes me laugh, because to look at him, there is nothing delicate about Braden Bug! No one believes he is a triplet - he's way too big! But....the poor guy, he has had to take the brunt of problems most triplets face and even though they are mild, they are compounded by the fact that he is soooo big for his "age" and ex-preemie status, and that he is just such a gosh-darn laid-back, good natured fella. He's not lazy, just mellow and calm. Think Jimmy Buffet. So, this "whatever, man" attitude is awesome in helping him to deal with his myriad of issues, but it doesn't help motivate him to get to the next developmental level, or through a sickness until he really wants to get there. He is working to get better now and then walking is the next big milestone for him. But he has something working against him there too.

To go back even further, we have a Physical Therapist and an Occupational Therapist working with Braden 3 times a week. They are trying to encourage better range of motion, appropriate feeding skills (no problem there!), stretching and walking, climbing, transitions (like stairs and couches) and movement in general. Gross, and then fine motor skills, to be more technical.

The other two started walking some time ago and have since been discharged. They are doing great! Life seems to come easy for them and they also have the added "benefit" of being more aggressive and motivated to move. Braden, on the other hand is a pretty mellow guy. We love that about him! As humble as a toddler can be and super smart. He is the sign language king! You can see him actually thinking about it and processing it before he comes out with something.
If I can take a moment to brag here (as if I had anything to do with these little presents God has handed us)...all three are talking up a storm, even scoring higher than their gestational age - which is awesome! No delays there! They should be talking at a 16 month old level (correcting for the two months they were born early), but they are most likely already at a 20 month level. Pretty cool. They are all sharp as a tack. Even though I am so proud to say that, it scares me a little... a tiny gang of smart, cute, organizing, connected and conniving little people. I should be afraid!

Getting back to Braden, he has always been a little more behind than his brother and sister, even more so than the corrected age bracket they score on. His eyes were crossed last year, as most babies' are, but they weren't resolving, so he had to have surgery to correct it almost a year ago. They turned out great, but recently they are turning in again. That, in itself, may be the cause of his motor delays, since vision impacts every single thing a person comes into contact with. And when you are just learning to come into contact and grasp things, you need to see it first and foremost.

That was his first hurdle.

Then, the boys got eczema terribly last fall. Their faces and bodies and heads were just covered with it and they would scratch and scratch until they bled. We had to keep them swaddled at night so they wouldn't gouge themselves. Taking them to an allergist, they were diagnosed with allergies of the feline and canine variety. At that time we had 2 canines and 2 felines, and they weren't going anywhere, so we had to prepare precautions to reduce the amount of allergens getting to them if we ever wanted them to have access to their hands ever again. ;)

The boys are also allergic to dust mites, and if you have ever been in our house, dust is probably the most prolific possession we own. So, we swapped out the 20 year old shag carpet in their nursery for a faux-hardwood look. Well, we were going for the hardwood look, not the faux part. Anyway, it's been a challenge to keep the dust and mites and pets away from the kids.

Braden is such a lover, and he seeks the cats and dogs out, draping himself over their backs and exclaiming, "Awwwwwww...". It's probably the cutest thing I have ever seen. He just about covers the whole cat with his body, the trapped feline letting out the thinnest of mewls in protest, but not moving an inch. It's impossible to stop, and even more impossible not to love seeing, as an animal lover and now a mom of one too.

B is also allergic to egg-whites, which are in far more things than I ever knew. When I heard, I thought, "Oh, bummer - I was hoping to start giving them scrambled eggs, but I guess that's out." Little did I know (or just think about it) that eggs are in pasta, custards, ice cream, any baked good, egg white washes on pretzels and some breads, croissants, meringue, SNICKERS!, frosting, mayonnaise, some dressings, meatloaf, hamburgers, chicken fingers, ricotta cheese fillings in italian dishes, brownies, french toast, pancakes, cheesecake, etc...So many things! His first birthday cake caused an all-nighter reaction. So, we know he is sensitive enough to watch what he eats.

He has not started walking yet because his right foot and leg are so tight and weak they cause him to be unstable. He cannot really put any weight on his foot, or straighten his leg out fully because it hurts him to do so. He also points his toes and then curls them down. This makes him drag his right foot when he tries to walk anywhere. These are all signs of Cerebral Palsy (CP). The therapists and doctors are questioning whether he has a mild form of CP. An MRI is the first test to determine if CP is present, which is slight brain damage, usually caused by a lack of oxygen to any given part of the brain, most likely right after birth. Since he was a preemie, and a triplet, this is probably the case. His MRI was scheduled for this Tuesday, and he would have to go under for the long procedure. Since he received steroids during his hospital stay to help decrease the inflammation, that will push his MRI back another 8 weeks. They do not want the steroids compromising his lung function under anesthetics.

So, we wait to find out what will be. But we know that what will be, will be. Nothing will change but our knowledge, since if it is a positive diagnosis, then getting him to walk will hopefully be the only challenge CP will present for him in his lifetime.

Now that you have the back story on our little man, we are now home. He spent 4 days in the hospital, or as I called it, "Hotel Children's". They had Pampers! Woohoo! Nothing but the best swag for my baby. He was as well cared for as his bum, needing oxygen and breathing treatments 'round the clock. It was torture to see him with the nasal cannula, the IV, the pulse ox all tethering him to the metal crib that was his home for days. But, like I said, he is a trooper and handled it all with the poetic grace of an old soul, as he does with everything life throws at him. I love my baby boy and am constantly amazed at his resilience.

His lungs are recovering and we are hunkering down for the winter, trying to evade some of the nastier bugs out there. Hopefully we won't end up back in the hospital anytime soon.

It's nice to have our family back together again, even if we are all sick..we are sick together.

Ruffling by the Weenie

2008-11-08T14:37:00.003-05:00

I guess I ruffled a few feathers with my last post.

To be honest and fair to the commenters...there was a witch there (I thought your costume was "off" when we got there, MJ) and some kind of a ghost or something with makeup mostly smeared off (costume mostly off) and one adult with a full blown costume. And Kristie, who came with us as a cat, felt just like I did...pretty darn silly.

And the rest who could be considered dressed up were in Halloween shirts, not costumes. I think that's a big difference when you come in your PJs, feeling like a total slob. Anyway, just wanted to explain my point a little more, and what I was feeling. I can't change the way I felt because it was, well, the way that I felt.

I worry what is going to happen when I write the book... I hope my feelings and viewpoints will not offend because they are simply my viewpoints, my opinions, my perspective - the way I felt during a situation...please understand. :(

Hallo-weenie

2008-11-06T14:24:00.005-05:00

I guess I'm the "weenie". More on that later...

Ok, the begging can stop!

I haven't posted about Halloween, well, because it isn't really wasn't all that exciting for us. I feel like such a bad mom for not making it great, but, hey..."sumthin's gotta give!"

I used to looooove the holiday, living at home and then right after we first got married. It was so much fun getting dressed up, handing out candy and having a scary movie marathon. We used to have all sorts of Halloween parties here for the Youth Group we ran (scary, huh?), pulling out all the stops, but nowadays, it all seems like too much work. Bah, humbug...even if that's the wrong holiday reference.

Anyway, not many people come to our house to visit, usually (my family) - so we would be the only ones to enjoy the decor...we live out in the middle of nowhere and do not get trick-or-treaters either. You can't see our house from the road, so it's almost silly to even try. Christmas is another story! We don't care about anyone else, we do that for ourselves!

Once we had the kids, our precious time was commandeered to bathe, diaper, dress and soothe 3 babies. And now, well...now, we have no excuses left. I actually gave my BIL (who loves Halloween) all of our decorations a few years ago, since I thought we wouldn't be needing them for a while. So here we sit...decorationless, penniless and spiritless.

We had an idea for the kids last year that we would put into action this October 31st...well, now it's been pushed off yet another year. We just have not had the time to do what was necessary to make it work. They were going to be Bo, Luke and Daisy Duke...and their stroller the General Lee. I even found the perfect shirt for our little Daisy! But, as we neared the Big Day, we came to realize that the General Lee would never be ready to jump over closed bridges in time for the reveal. So, we abandoned that idea a week before D-Day...or would it be H-Day?...whatever.

We frantically searched for ideas for the three to fit into...we didn't want to just have them be random costumes found in a thrift shop. We wanted a theme! I thought it would be cute to copy another triplet mom from last year and do a stoplight theme... Super cute idea, but we needed the stroller to have that make any sense - and that would never fit inside a house for a party. Another idea scratched.

As I was folding their pajamas a few days before, I thought it would be cute if we all went as a "pajama party"! If I could just find robes and slippers for the three cuties (things they would use otherwise), we would be in business! Mike said no, he wouldn't do it. He was such a party pooper! He doesn't like to dress up, ever.

But I decided I would still dress up with the kids and set out to find the "stuff". My mother found most of what we needed, cute little robes and slippers... and we were good to go!

The night of Halloween is also our neice's birthday, so we set out to the in-laws and prepared to go trick-or-treating with them, cake to follow. We weren't going to have the kids dress up because they couldn't actually walk up and get candy yet - they would just be dressed in orange shirts and jeans, nothing special. Mike's sister happened to have three costumes from Halloween's past that were the perfect sizes for all three. So, we hurriedly dressed them up and rolled around the block.

Alex was Cheer Bear, Braden was a Pumpkin and Cole was Godzilla. Super cute. Instant Halloween! Just stuff them in and zzzzip! 5 minutes and we were out the door. Nice!

We walked around the block with Ellie the Birthday Girl and Clown ("curly shirley") and Robbie the Thomas the Tank Engine. It was nice, and the weather was perfect.

Mike with the "I just ate a piece of candy" guilty look...

We headed back for cake and pumpkin lattes - and the company of family. Happy Birthday Ellie!

The actual party was Sunday, so I was ready for them to be dressed up in the pajamas. I envisioned cuteness, Mike thought it was stupid. They slept really late that day, and we were super late for the party, so we decided at the last minute that we would just zip them up in the "instant costumes" again. I still went in my PJs as "Frazzled Mom", messing my hair up and frizzing it up on top of my head, circles under my eyes, etc... The whole family dresses up for the party and it's usually fun.

Well, once I got there, my costume morphed into "Trusting Schmuck".

No one else, other than all the kids there, was dressed up. I was the only one, trusting in the fact that in years' past, everyone but Mike dressed up. I didn't want to be a party pooper too, so I forced myself to find something and go. I didn't want to be picked on for my lack of holiday spirit. Well, I was goofed on... for dressing up.

Boy, did I feel stupid.

The kids looked cute, but were in their costumes for about 10 minutes at the party. What a waste! So glad we didn't actually spend time or money on their costumes, I would have been torqued! All in all, it was pretty uneventful and unspecial, sorry to say. Aren't you glad you waited all this time to hear that? ;)

Family Pictures

2008-10-31T09:10:00.006-04:00

Two weeks ago, the Ertel Clan got together to takes some professional pics of our awesome family. There are officially 16 of us, 7 of them kids, 6 of them under 5. So you can imagine the crazy chaos that ensues when we all get together. It's pretty nuts.

We have been taking a Christmas picture at a studio (NEVER AGAIN!) and it's a crazy fiasco in public, the entourage touring the mall before and after, looking like a small army ready to raid the town. It's previously been a "surprise" to Mom and Dad, giving them a picture of all the grandkids they currently spoil the heck out of.

This year, MJ had a friend in the biz-ness, the fantastically talented Tracy Dorr, and thought it would be great to do outdoor, natural fall photos instead. Yay! No more forced and stuffy studio pics...thank God. It was a great and beautiful day, a little cold, but nice enough. And we all got some great shots of our own families, too. We started with the big family, all 16 of us, inside and out, and then broke it down multiple times. All the kids, each family on their own, each couple on their own, and so on and so on...

They turned out amazing. What a great idea, MJ! And you know, Tracy, you are never, ever getting away. ;)

Here are the ones from just our family, with us as Mom and Dad and then just Mike and Cheryle again. I think these are officially the first pics of us together since we were dating. I think that fact might just explain the ridiculous number of them I included here.

I would love to post the other ones, I just have to find out what the rest of the family thinks about their mugs being on the Internet. And I'm not talking about coffee.

What do you think? These suckers were tough to upload, so let's leave the wonky formatting out of this.

CALM DOWN????

2008-10-27T09:22:00.008-04:00

Don't tell me to calm down!! My baby is locked in the car....with the KEYS! I WILL not calm down...I CANNOT calm down...

Oh, what a fun day yesterday.

After church, which is always a workout (it's very stressful trying to keep 3 kids occupied, calm and quiet in a Catholic Church with no crying room - holding them the entire time), we left to go home. Ahh, home. It was a little chilly yesterday, mid 50's but a wind that whipped right through you.

Most of the Ertel Entourage were there, all 7 grandkids, Mike's parents and Mike's sister and her family. We were saying goodbye (a feat that takes us a while!) when all of a sudden the door to the truck closes. Mike goes to open the back door and says with full dread in his voice...."Oh, no."

I look over, holding Alex, and it starts to sink in what is wrong. I look at Cole behind glass, sitting in the driver's seat...the keys in the ignition.

Dear readers, you may have come to think of me as a mecca of calm, handling three triplets at home. Somehow I may have given you the illusion, through the filtered postings I write, that our life is somewhat orderly and sane. While that is the topic of a whole other post, I am here to break that facade, here today. I am not great at handling things...especially surprises. So, what did I do?

I freaked out. I screamed at the top of my lungs, not caring where I was and who heard it. In the cold parking lot, the sound carried well and Mike immediately became embarrassed. "OH MY GOD!! MY BABY IS LOCKED IN THE CAR! YOU LOCKED THE BABY IN THE CAR??! CALM DOWN? COLE IS LOCKED IN THE VEHICLE! HOW CAN I POSSIBLY CALM DOWN. NO, THIS IS NOT OK!"

Yep, that was me...Frantic Frannie. I am ashamed to admit that I totally and completely lost it.

Poor little Cole, sitting there in the car, looking out at us looking in. Mike told us it would be fine, that he had a plan of sorts. I thought, okay, maybe he is going to try and jimmy the lock somehow. He's a pretty darn resourceful guy. I trust in him when we are in stuck places such as these. He thrives in situations such as these. Breathe, calm down...relax. The weather is chilly, so he's probably better off in there. It's not 90 degrees, so he's okay for a while. Plus, it's cavernous in there, plenty of oxygen for the little guy. I had to back away from the vehicle during the screaming fit, in order to not freak out Cole. Nothing worse than wide-eyed Momma on the other side of a pane of glass, screaming like a little girl, obvious fear on my face, to get him scared.

Calmly, I awaited to hear the outlining of the Master Plan.

He looked as though he was thinking, and I was glad. He walks up to the window, looking down at Cole...and says "Push the button, buddy! Push the button!"

"THAT'S YOUR BRILLIANT PLAN?! HAVE AN 18 MONTH OLD LET HIMSELF OUT OF THE VEHICLE? BY TELLING HIM TO PUSH ON THE LOCK BUTTON?" The dam broke again after that one.

So, that's what we did. After I calmed down, yet again, I had full confidence in my button-pushin'-lovin' son...as much practice as he has had on the TV at home, he should be able to accomplish this, no problem. Though it looked hilarious from an outsider, I'm sure.

Mike and then me, faces practically pressed to the glass, pounding on the window with hard raps and then full, flat palms smacking to get his attention. All the while, screaming, "PUSH THE BUTTON, BUDDY!" He was pressing buttons, just not the right one. He was consistently locking the car, which was exactly the kind of irony that currently fits into our lives. Our brother in law stood at the ready on the passenger side of the car, in case he did happen to get lucky and actually unlock the door, we wanted to be fast, but didn't want him to fall out of the car.

We kept trying to keep his attention. After all, he is 18 months old, he had a plethora of other buttons around the cabin to press , places to climb, not to mention there were 5 chocolate covered pretzel sticks right next to him on the console, just purchased at the church fundraiser. I am amazed he didn't go right for them and forget his mission. I was so worried he would fall into the well beneath the steering wheel and hurt himself, us powerless to do anything. Scary, scary thought.

After about 5 minutes of him trying and just missing, Mike decided he needed to drive home to get the extra set of keys. He left, and almost exactly 5 minutes later...Cole did it. He pressed the button, freeing himself from the car and us from our excessive state of panic. Okay, so maybe that was just me.

Mike's plan was actually brilliant, after all.

Da, Da, Daaaaa...The Haircuts

2008-10-23T22:26:00.005-04:00

I think I have been avoiding the public forum for this particular post because I would like to pretend it didn't happen. Move on, move past, right? In previous threads, I have mentioned my dread over the upcoming haircut. Well, it has been here and long gone, and I'd like to pretend that they never had those precious, long, luxurious locks. Shiny, golden curls and swirls that never existed...never had me in tears to be lost. There were never ringlets, growing longer and more adorable every single day. Alright, I guess this could be considered denial.

Don't get me wrong, I like the haircuts...but my babies look so different...and I miss the cute and spunky, the crazy messy, the bunch o'curls on top of their heads. Mike used to say that it looked like one of those scrunches of curly ribbons you put on top of a birthday package, plopped right at the crown of their sweet little heads. I intended to get some really nice and elegant pictures of their curls, lock them into photographic memory if they had to be cut. But that never happened. For whatever reason, I never got the chance. So, I figured I might be able to do it right before they were chopped off...them sitting in the barber chair and in perfect position to record their sweetness. Nope.

We arrived on a beautiful and sunny Sunday morning to "Joe the Barber", Mike's professional barber since birth, practically. He signed up to usher our kids into toddlerhood, armed with scissors and a cape. He is known for his speed, clearing out a waiting room in no time at all. Never a wait! And today was no different. Unfortunately, I would have liked to take my sweet time; languishing in the glow of their golden locks. I would have liked to have been able to grab the "good" camera too, take some pictures with it as well as the point and shoot...but I was lucky to get the few awful pictures I did!

Speed is never something to be cherished when it's your babies' first haircut, but it's what we got. I love Joe, but he rushed me! I barely had time to come to terms with it all before the floor was covered with their curly innocence. I think we were there for a total of 15 minutes, door to door. Mike's parents and sister MJ were there to help us celebrate the memory and we went out to breakfast afterwards...thanks, Papa!

After it all, I confess that they looked so tidy and clean, and they did great, sitting still for those 30 seconds on the chair. (kidding) But I do miss those curls, more than ever. Au Revoir, sweet ringlets...it was a pleasure to have known you, to have graced our sons' hair. If you have a chance to stop by again, please stay awhile! I will aim to keep Mike's scissors at bay, a battle I am sure I will never win.

Cole wins the coin toss and heads up first

Signing "All Done", here's the After Shot

Braden waiting his turn with Alex

The before and after comparison

Looking up at Joe, "What's goin' on here?" Look at those curls! *sigh*

Before Shot

The After Shot

Our handsome boys

The whole fam and Joe the Barber

The first official public appearance as toddlers...

A lovely moment

2008-10-17T12:11:00.002-04:00

I rarely get quality one-on-one time with my monkeys, so lately I have been making an effort to spend little bursts of that kind of time, concentrating on each one. I hope they get that idea that mommy loves them all, each for their own reasons, and not just the "package deal".

This morning I am on the floor with them all, wrestling, taking turns with each one, looking at them purposefully and with lots of love in my eyes. I'm hoping they get the idea that they can come to me anytime for individual snuggle or play time.

Cole is especially goofy this morning, matching mommy's tune, and we were wrestling. He was making all sorts of funny growling noises and his eyes were sparkling in mischief. He had this huge grin on his face and kept instigating. I ended up on my back and he toppled on me with so much force, I knew it was intended! He even made this "Uh!" sound, knowing I was about to imitate him once he landed on my tummy. I looked up at him, his face filling my frame of vision, our noses a few inches apart. He suddenly went quiet, looking into my eyes, still grinning, looking like he loved me, loved the time we were spending, loving this moment...

And, quick as a wink...he shoved his finger up my nose.

Moment over....back to wrestling!

I forgot about the Hurricane!

2008-10-14T21:56:00.006-04:00

Boy are we lucky.

I have always said to Mike that we are "blessed", but not "lucky". I define the difference as "never having bad things happen to us" vs "never win anything, even a stinkin' scratch-off lottery ticket". We grumble at times that we have to work so hard for everything we get, while friends around us seem to have things handed to them (even their mortgage! not kidding!) Though, the balance was there. Until we lost Ruger, no major unforeseen losses have ever graced our lives. So, we made peace with the fact that being "blessed", this was His gift to us.

That balance unhinged after we were left without our gentle puppy dog. I confess that I was pretty mad at God for taking him away, especially so early. I was holding a sizable grudge, and that makes my face flush just saying it. Previously, our hard times were more easily bearable when we knew he would keep the awful things in life at bay. So, now where were we? I guess that makes me a terrible Catholic, falling to pieces in the hard times, leaving His side, angry with Him.

Well, He had a message for us...that maybe we are all given "just enough" to get us by. We are "blessed" just enough and also "lucky" just enough.... enough to get us through this life, enough for us to handle things and enough for us to be strengthened and learn without losing faith. Just enough grief, happiness, hard times and good times to keep the balance, to make us appreciate all that we have and all that we are because of His "just enough" teaching moments.

Here was our message:

A Tree... About 2 1/2 feet in diameter... will fall in the night... and fall right smack in the middle of your house and your barn. Just so you know how lucky you really are.

Hurricane Ike had delivered incredibly strong winds that night, even in its downgraded state. Winds like I have never heard before made me come to understand why people in a tornado say it sounds like a train is coming through their house. It was incredibly loud and sounded so scary to me...I worried we might lose a tree, one of the many that surround the house, but that night they felt more like weapons to me. Any given day finds me in love with the forest all around us...but that night I worried.

It was about midnight, and we had just fallen asleep. The wind was so loud it was keeping us awake! I heard it first...the crack! of the tree snapping - that is what woke me up. I opened my eyes to see a flash and then, a BOOM! Mike heard the boom, and thought he saw a flash behind his eyes... At that moment, I thought it was thunder... yet peculiar because I remember that the boom never rumbled like thunder does afterwards. I was scared awake, and then felt a sense of dread because a thunderstorm would wake the kids.

Mike got up and realized the power was off, thinking the most likely culprit was the high winds. He went to get a lantern and a flashlight for both of us and glanced out the window. Our next door neighbor's lights were on. Hmm... That's weird! He and I both started thinking the same thought then - was that our power line that flashed?

He took the flashlight and panned it through our bedroom window, and we saw the reason for our lost power. The leaves obscured most of our view and we stared in awe. How did that NOT hit the house? Like a crazy person, Mike decided to go out in the storm and check out the damage... I sat there and worried again.

He realized out there that we were indeed, very lucky people. The tree snapped off 10 feet above the ground and had fallen right in between our two structures, almost exactly in the middle. It pinned our power line down to the ground, ripping it from our house in the process. That was the flash of light we saw, an arc of electricity from the house to the disconnecting wire. It lit up the night! The tree was situated right next to the house, so if it would have fallen to the right, it would have ended up in the kids room, right on top of the kids. We both shuddered at the thought, of what we had escaped. No losses, no damage, just a few deep holes in the ground, like scars, to remind us of what we could have lost....of how lucky we truly are.

Cody lost in the branches...

We didn't have power for a few days, but luckily we have a generator - it's presence generated by the lovely October Storm almost 2 years ago today! The story of how we got it back on and how the kids slept through the chaos is kinda funny so I will post that later. Goofy electricians, one loud chainsaw and babies who are excellent at sleeping. Good times, good times....

And Yes...

2008-10-10T16:12:00.002-04:00

The haircuts have finally happened...as you might be able to tell from the pic above.

Next post!

On the Swings

2008-10-10T15:02:00.009-04:00

A few weeks ago, we took the kids to a local park with a nice little playground. New parents that we are, we are all about finding the local hot spots...that is, the cute parks we never knew existed. Now, we actually know why they were invented. ;)

This time we ventured into Marilla, and the kids had their first crack at the swings, ever.
Of course, they loved them...giggling and even trying to propel themselves forward for more fun! It was a warm day and they had a ball playing on the playset too. Though I do have to ask...why do they have little tiny stones under those things? Don't they know toddlers put everything in their mouths? I'm sure they all left with at least one in their belly...a small price to pay for a fabulously (free) good time!

Take that! Landing on Mr. B

Miss Alex with a stony snack

Cole, walking like C-3PO

Surrounded!

Whee!

"I can't look!"

Pouty Cole on the Playset

"Umm, excuse me, sir...I'd like to get by..."

Braden, taking the easy way up

Daddy, guarding the exit

What's Cookin'?

2008-10-07T08:50:00.005-04:00

Alex!

Yesterday, my daughter decided to get into the frying pan and sit there, legs crossed to fit. She's in a phase where getting into boxes, baskets, etc... is just too much fun to pass up! And she just sits in there, like it's a comfy old chaise lounge, evn though it's just about as big as her. Too funny. She'll watch tv, her brothers, she'll sing - she's squished in there, but she stays put for a while! It's adorable.

Yesterday they were all playing "pots and pans" band on the kitchen floor and after she crawled in, looking like the scene where Bugs Bunny is taking a "bath" in the soup Elmer Fudd is preparing around him, and taking inspiration from the cartoon, Mike thought it would be funny to actually place her on the stove.

Yep, he gets the "Backwards Teaching Father of the Year Award". Doesn't he know they're always listening? ;) She was adorable.

As if that wasn't cool enough...

2008-10-04T23:02:00.006-04:00

I just wanted to post about what an incredibly cool guy Dean Koontz is.

After winning the contest, I thought my glee had crescendoed. I was wrong! The next day in the mail, my "prize" arrived. It was a signed copy of Trixie's new book, but I was expecting that.

What I wasn't expecting was a hand written note from Dean tucked away in the pages, actually penned to me...about how he thought it sounded like Ruger was a "wonderful boy" and he knew Trixie and him were at play in the fields of Heaven. Wow. He wrote to every single winner personally. What a guy!

And then he signed the book...

An incredible gift that had me giggling in happy tears, missing Ruger and honored that he was honored so.

Thank you, dear Mr. Koontz. I suspect you know exactly what that meant to all of us, and that is exactly why you did it.

Winning Anyway...

2008-10-01T23:52:00.005-04:00

So, I may get into trouble here...of what kind, I have no idea.

I chose to "double blog" this one, meaning on both of my sites, since it is so important to me.

I have a favorite author (who doesn't?!)...and his name is Dean Koontz. You may have read some of his books, or maybe not. He's not for everyone, as my mother tells me every time I try to get her to read one, but I adore his writing style. The way he can create atmosphere, provoke philosophical thought and restore the faith and the profound beauty of the human race - he's a mesmerizing story-teller. You forget where you are for hours. He's got some skills, and a mansion in California to prove it! Point is, the guy's amazing.

Recommendation: Two newer ones of his called "The Darkest Evening of the Year" or "The Good Guy"....or two older ones called "Lightning" or "Watchers". I can go on and on...but if you like these and come back for more, I can talk more then. ;)

I guess part of the reason I am shamelessly plugging is for the props; in fear of reprimand, I'm hoping this makes the blow a little softer.

Anyhoo, I entered a contest on his web site titled "Trixie's Super Dog Contest". See, Trixie was Dean's beloved "Doggie Daughter", and they lost her to cancer last summer. I agonized with them and their loss, until Ruger passed...and his website is part of the reason I have made it this far through the grieving process. He keeps her memory alive by writing books and newsletters as her...it's super cute and if you ever get a chance to check it out, Trixie's part of his website is here. (Yes, that's me, sucking up again, hoping to shave off time in the slammer for the forthcoming criminal atrocity.) Trixie was an awesome Golden Retriever who was trained and served as a Companion Dog for a disabled person (working through CCI or Canine Companions for Independence). After a few months in service, her joints started to act up with the increased effort and she was retired to live with the Koontz family for the rest of her life. Trixie has three books out now, with more to come...but her newest just arrived, titled "Bliss To You: Trixie's Guide to a Happy Life". Adorably written and is a great lesson in living a more simple, "dog-like" life.

Dean frequently writes about Goldens in his books since the arrival of Trixie and I think that is what sealed the deal for him as my favorite author. He is a genuine dog lover, a dog "person", I have called them, and without meeting him, I like the guy already. So, knowing how he feels about Trixie, and knowing it matched my feelings for Ruger, it seemed inevitable that I would enter this contest, telling him about our baby.

The contest asked you to write about a heroic virtue of your dog, in 75 words or less. That is a serious challenge. I had so much to say, it was hard to condense all I felt about him, everything I wanted to convey in a mere 75 words. I took it as a writing challenge to tell the world about Ruger. So, I condensed a previously written poem, written the week after his death, to the minimum requirement. I included a picture and sent it along to be judged. Prizes were offered to the top 3 winners and then also to 7 runners-up. My only hope was to have the poem published on his site. That way, the legacy of Ruger would have another venue.

After fretting for 2 weeks, I learned that there were almost 500 entries to the contest. I thought..."well, that means I haven't a shot in the world!" I figured my poem would get lost in the pile and not make it's way back out. Today, I found out who the winners were...and....

It wasn't me.

BUT! I was a runner-up!

Since there were so many entries, so many good ones, Dean himself chose to increase the amount of winners to 5 Top winners and 12 runners-up. And I became one of them! Yay! Go Ruger!

I'm actually surprised that I did win, because after reading the top 5, all of the dogs were of the kind that had overcome serious adversity. It wasn't a writing contest, it was a "super dog" contest - what makes your dog a super dog - all about the dog, not the writing skills (my bad) and the winners were quite deserving. It makes me happy to see so many devoted pet parents out there. I'm happy to be in such good company!

I think the most exciting part is that Dean himself read my poem, actually sat down and read something I wrote, and then chose it to be one of the winners. That gave me goosebumps. My writing Idol read and accepted my "submission"; Wow. I think that just made my year. I'm not proud of myself very often, but I have to say that this made the short list.

Second, and most importantly, it means he connected with the feelings I expressed about Ruger, that he understood what we were going through. I wanted so badly for the poem to be posted, but only the Top winners were given that honor.

SO....and here's where I go to jail...I'd like to post it here. Let me say that I believe this poem now belongs to Dean Koontz and his sponsors (I wasn't sure what the rules would be for the runners-up, if I still lose the rights), and I am posting it here, giving them full credit for owning it. *crossing fingers* ...and I hope that's enough for the legal mumbo jumbo types... I wrote it, but it belongs to them, but it was never posted, so hopefully they will go easy on me for that very reason. We'll see! If I stop blogging for months, you'll know what happened...

After much ado, here it is - my tribute to Ruger...in 75 words or less.

Our Gentle Shepherd

Impossibly

Reminiscent of a great maned lion

Our Gentle shepherd traversed his life with quiet pride.

Obedient and strong, strong-willed and gentle,

Regal to the very end

He showed us how to live

More than ever in the way he died.

Silently suffering, never betraying his demanding illness

Those last sweet kisses we were privileged to enjoy

Imparting lessons in passion, innocence and play

The purest form of instruction one could ever hope to receive.

In honor of Ruger, our sweet baby boy

We miss our child more than words can describe.
4/4/99-8/22/08

"Goin' to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo...."

2008-09-30T21:34:00.012-04:00

Thanks, Papa, for sticking that stinkin' song in my head!

I am going to be skipping around a bit for a while, since there are so many back posts to be made...so "bear" with me! ;)

This one's about the Zoo... We have a season pass this year, and we have gone a few times already...but this time we went with Papa. A day so hot, you might forget it was September! Hurricane Ike was pushing some super hot weather our usually cool way and it was hot and humid. I think it topped out around 90, and for Buffalo, in September..that's hot.

So, we decided to be outside all day with three toddlers, skip nap time and regular routine, forget hats and sunglasses and head out, carefree, to the zoo with Mike's dad. It was very cool of him to come with us, since we had been previously unable to enjoy a few attractions due to the sheer size of our stroller. One adult to one baby is always a good ratio for us!

The kids were dressed skimpily and slathered with sunscreen...we have sun/rain canopies on each seat, but they kept pulling the one in front of them down, so we took them off for a while. I was suffering from Mother's Guilt, not feeling like they were protected enough...and wouldn't you know it, passing by an ancient crabby couple, I heard in a crackly voice..."those kids should have hats on!"...said loud enough to hear, but not loud enough to be telling us directly. I almost asked them if we could borrow their stupid looking visors for the kids if they were THAT worried about their welfare. But I'm not that mean. Well, not out loud anyway.

Upon entering the exhibit, there was an educational science section you could walk through to get to the actual rainforest. If we would have stopped, we would have "learned" what we were getting into.

There was a lady posted at the door to specifically prohibit strollers from entering. Like we all didn't get the hint from the stroller "parking lot" right outside. Hmmm. Boy, was she was crabby! She was yelling at everyone who even thought about bringing a stroller inside. Well, with the heat, it must have been the emotion of the day. No wonder us Buffalonians are normally so nice - it's not often (and not for long) hot and sticky here - so no reason to have a short temper. The cold makes you want to cuddle and be cozy, stay together for body warmth. One point for Buffalo!

Passing by the crabby lady with the mean face, we were surprised at how stuffy it was in that front room. No air conditioning? Hmmm. We walked through the glass doors to enter the new "Rainforest Falls", with all its grandeur and hype. It sounds so refreshing, doesn't it?

It wasn't.

What I didn't think about was that this is supposed to be a re-creation of a rainforest ecosystem for animals that would normally live there. Basically a hot and steamy jungle in a great big greenhouse, full of an incredible amount of people all there for the first time, on a hot and sunny day. It was "pass-out" kind of hot in there. Dangerous! And holding a squirmy 30 pound toddler that just wanted to get down and explore made it seem too much like exercise. We had sweat beading off our foreheads and down our backs. I was glad I was wearing black - the better to hide the sweat on my tummy! We were soaked. We flew through it, admiring the new place - it was very nice...but maybe we'll check out and stay longer next time. We couldn't believe we were hurrying to get back outside! It was that uncomfortable. Walking back out past crabby lady, we sighed relief to feel the cooler breeze. It must have been over 100 degrees in there...quite stifling with no air moving through...so it felt great outside! Pretty, but a bad choice that day. In the middle of our famous winter, it would be a nice and warm place to visit...only then I would give that "one point" back to the rainforest!

Cole about to jump into the river... there was a little alligator right below him - I'm not kidding.

I told you we were miserable!

Papa and B-Man

Cole was so hot, but he was adorable!

Next, we headed for the Bird Aviary. Another exhibit prohibiting strollers...so something else we have been wanting to see! Very cool - It's called "Lorikeet Landing", and features uber-colorful birds vying for the coveted cup of paid food (I think it was nectar) people were holding up for them to sample. This allowed for a very close up look at some pretty amazing birdies. Though, we didn't stay long...the kids were like lead weights and we needed a drink!

My favorite picture of the day, possibly ever.

After lunch, we checked out the elephants, who were back after a long stay in another zoo while their home received a much-needed upgrade. We also saw the giraffes and the rhinos for the first time this trip. As always, the bears are my personal favorites and we lingered there a while as well.

Hyena!

I love these guys...Mike usually has to pull me away...

The polar bear was doing laps! This part was his backstroke... So cute!

Rhino! Literally laying on what he was eating. Kinda gross.

The kids are just starting to get into it and we are looking forward to next year when they ask us to go! Right now, it's just another way to get out of the house, and they seem to enjoy the animals a bit. I think they liked the Rainforest exhibit the most, since they were out of the stroller and could actually see the animals! I got down to their level walking by a few areas and realized that they could not see a thing. Bad design, I guess! I thought the zoo was made for kids? I'll put that in their comment box and see what happens... Do they even have one? :P

I do have a few pics of their first trip here, but another day, another post...

Ruger the Lion

2008-09-19T01:03:00.014-04:00

Ruger,

who so often reminded me of a great lion.

An incredible friend with a regal presence.

In many ways our child, he will be forever missed.

I realize that it has been quite some time since I have posted an entry. I have had plenty to blog about, but little motivation to do so. I am lost in a state of grief I never knew existed because we have lost a great presence in our lives.

Recently, we lost our beautiful dog, Ruger. The German Shepherd that made our lives, and us, so much better for having known him. We are better people now, and it has a lot to do with him.

Our baby is gone...Impossible...I have yet to fully come to terms with his loss, he was a huge part of our lives. More than just a dog; an amazing companion, a spectacular friend, an incredible personality and an awe-inspiring presence - his life, and his lessons, will never be forgotten.

I never once gave a thought to the day I would have to write about losing our baby Ruger. For those of you who know us, he was our dog "son", our first baby. As close to us as any human son could ever be, the relationship made even more intense because his life was so short.

We lost our first baby on August 22, a crushing blow to our sense of stability and our forthcoming happiness. I say forthcoming, because the "Grand Plan" seemed just about ready to unfold. We were blessed with healthy triplets after a rough pregnancy, two beautiful and extremely well behaved and human-attuned puppies, a beautiful house of our dreams on forested acres with a waterfall, a perfect place to let dogs run and raise a family together. It was all there, in place, all the pieces to the puzzle of our perfect life. And we were just about to put the last pieces in, which were the kids, since they were starting to be less demanding babies and more active toddlers, everyone ready to enjoy life together…and then the Ruger piece fell out, lost, never to be found again; an eternal hole in our puzzle of happiness.

In only 4 days, we had to come to terms with losing our baby. Only 4 days to process what was happening and spend the last few hours with him in a way that would dignify his life. Keep him strong and comfortable until the end came and give him the best possible send off a dog could ever hope for. Ice cream, chicken, steak…we never got to the steak part.

You know that inevitably you will live through the death of an amazing pet, their life span is so much shorter than ours...but knowing and dealing are two very different things. I can't say one could ever be "ready" for the loss, but someday it will happen. "Someday" happened way faster than we thought, sooner and faster, and that made it all so hard to bear. It didn't seem right, and it didn't seem fair. He had so much music left in him. The kids will never know this gentle heart, and that fact haunts us more than anything, I think.

He seemed to be having a difficult time breathing and collapsed in front of me, so Mike took him to the emergency vet on Monday night. He returned quickly, which I knew was a bad sign. After taking an x-ray of his lungs, she diagnosed him with Advanced Lung Cancer and gave him days to live. Mike came home with the crushing news that our baby was dying, and it was my turn to collapse.

We took him to our vet the next day who confirmed it was indeed cancer, but a far more aggressive kind that had spread to the lungs, called Hemangiosarcoma. A death sentence for any dog who receives the diagnosis because it is only caught in the end stages, after it has terminally spread. In Ruger's case, his lungs were canvassed and there was nothing we could do but make him comfortable. We were, and still are, shocked, saddened and devastated. I have thought this in my head, but never said it out loud, if it weren't for the kids, I would have gone off the deep end of grief, still looking for a way out. When you are forced to deal, you have to make it through the grieving process, and much faster.

On Wednesday, our doctor gave him 2-6 weeks, with the possibility of his tumor rupturing at any moment. He told us that in the eventuality that he would last a long time, we might have to consider putting him to sleep if it became too much of an effort for him to breathe. What a horrible thought, I remember thinking. We have to choose whether he lives or dies? We decide the exact moment he leaves us and this world for a "better" place? We decide his fate? Let's cross that bridge when we come to it.

That night, we had the blessing of being able to take the boys (Cody and Ruger) to a local park, with a nice pond and walkways to saunter on. Mike's parents lovingly stayed with the kids, deeply understanding our need to spend this last precious time together, just the 4 of us again. We had a beautiful night. Knowing it may be his last few days here with us, I was determined to make it special for him. We went to the park and walked around the water, soaking in the beautiful sunset that turned us all pink, then orange, then red. We took pictures by the lake, so mockingly calm, letting the warm breeze soothe our sorrow. I sobbed and sniffled, hugged my furry baby and tried to soak it all in…the last sunset he would ever see, ever be with us for. Just the four of us, like old times, sauntering around the lake as a family. It was beautiful; we loved giving him that last time with us together, letting him know we loved his company and that he was so very special to us.

A week later, I mentioned to Mike just how sorrowfully metaphoric that night was, he was dying, it was our last night together, the sunset, the impending fall weather…it just all felt like it was ending, everything. It was incredibly, yet nicely, sad.

Afterwards, we stopped to get him an ice cream cone, one of his favorite treats. Vanilla custard on a baby cone. Perfect. We ordered two for the boys and I fed them while standing before them in the tailgate of the truck. They devoured the cones! Ruger lapped his up, sometimes taking bites of the soft custard, licking back the white stuff from his chops. Crunching on the cone, he chewed his up fast, looking to Cody for a bite of his. I let them share the rest of Cody’s, knowing it may be the last morsels of the good stuff he may ever get and his brother obliged nicely. They were so cute together, they have always been the perfect fit. Brothers forever!

After the cones were done and the laughing abated, I noticed a little boy off to the side, quite close actually. He was looking at me with barely contained excitement, and I knew he had watched the boys eating and wanted to come over and see them. I leapt for joy inside, knowing that this was another love of Ruger’s…kids! He adored them, playing with them…maybe because he saw them as the kind of human who could match his energy level! So, I motioned for him to come over, he wasn’t afraid at all, which was wonderful, and he lavished Ruger with unabashed affection. Petting him, hugging him, jumping up and down and squealing, telling me just how BIG he was! And still not afraid…I was so glad he was there with us to say goodbye to him, this stranger of a friend, it was the perfect ending to a perfect last night.

Mike actually commented on how great Ruger looked. That night, with him walking by our side, loving every minute of it, it was easy to believe that he would be with us for weeks, months even - he looked fine! His coat was glossy and gorgeous as ever and his eyes were bright. A little panting, but that was it! He looked healthy, if you didn't know how much cancer he was riddled with, you might not actually believe the prognosis.

Thursday was another nice day, and we played in the yard, trying to capture his spirit on film most of the day. He was playing ball, wrestling with Cody...he looked a little tired, but his drive was still there.

Friday morning, I knew something was different. He was panting full bore now and struggling to get comfortable, anywhere. He looked so pitiful, and he was really striving for oxygen. What a difference 12 hours makes.

I looked at Mike tearfully and said, "I think he's trying to tell us something. I think he is done here." He kept looking at us with those pleading eyes, willing us to help him...and we knew, just knew, what had to be done.

It all happened so fast. Sunday he was jumping over the baby gate and playing with us and Cody, wrestling. Friday, he was gone.

We scheduled an appointment (how proper) that evening to put our baby to sleep forever. It was the second hardest thing I have ever done. He was so tired, not getting any sleep, I realized afterwards, in days; he couldn't put his head down on the floor because it was impossible to get any air with all that pressure on his lungs. So, he stayed upright for days, not sleeping, getting weaker and weaker with each passing one.

We brought Cody with us to the hardest thing we have ever done, saying goodbye to our baby. We all sat on the floor together as a family and told him how much we loved him, struggling to keep our composure while we talked to him. I wanted to soak him in, fill up my memory banks with images of his face, so sweet and loving, never forget him. Get my fill of him so that I might be able to last until I see him again someday. Knowing that it will never be enough. There is never enough time, enough hugs, enough kisses…. I held him in my arms and I kissed his cheeks, smoothed back the fur on top of his head, stared into his tired brown eyes, holding his muzzle with both hands, hugging him, feeling his coarse hair on my cheek one last time.

I wanted him to know how much we loved him, how much we would continue to love him and miss him, ache for him after he was gone, but that it would be easier to breathe soon, that it would be ok soon, that he would be able to truly sleep like he hadn’t in days or weeks even, trying to get comfortable through the pain. The pain would be gone, he would feel incredible and he would be able to play without abandon, no more fear, no more worries, no more suffering, no more pain. Just incredible joy and happiness. All dogs go to Heaven…and there is a reason for that.

We said our last goodbyes, hugged our last hugs, kissed his nose one last time...and then he was gone. We both then sobbed like we have never before, feeling impossible depths of grief wash over us, an immediate and incredible loneliness and a deep sadness taking up permanent residence in my chest.

He was gone...and it was going to be a long road back to a life without him.

We took him home and buried him in the flower garden, saying a few last words and a final goodbye. He will be there with us always, since we love being back there...he loved it too, and I think we picked a perfect spot for him.

Some of you might be saying...he was "just a dog", and I feel sorry for you. Truly knowing the love and heart of my dog was one of the most intense joys of my life. Wesley Smith said, "The pain is so intense because the joy was so intense". Since I had the privilege of his company 24/7, I will miss him as I would any close companion. I spent more time with him here at the house than most of my friends, and much of my family. So, if you think he wasn't a family member, I'm not sure what else he would be. My grief is just as intense as losing any other in my family, especially one that shared our home and our love. I see the spots he once lay, the places in our yard he frequented, I still see him everywhere, and it hurts. It has been four weeks since he left us, and I am still sobbing while I write this. I needed to wait until I was ready to write this blog, since it all seems so final now that it is "announced" to the world. Yet, a month later, it still takes my breath away.

I have been writing about him since that day, random thoughts on grief, wonderful memories of him I don't want to forget, poems about his loveliness and courage. 33 pages later, I am still pouring my grief out like water onto those pages. Hopefully, I will post a few of those stories on the Trinity Cole website (my pen name writing blog), see the link to the right. I know this post was long, but thank you for reading, if you have made it this far...I truly appreciate the opportunity to post these feelings. It has helped me tremendously to feel as though I am preserving his memory. I am starting to write a children's book about him and I hope to have it published someday. That way, his spirit will have another venue to live on.

He quite literally was, the perfect dog. And he will be missed greatly. He taught us so much in his lifetime; so many lessons in living simply, purely, and more genuine without abandon, fear or anger. Our children will know his lessons.

Dogs live in the moment, with so much to teach us about not sweating the small stuff, not holding grudges, playing as much as possible and lapping up the day as if it is a great big bowl of delicious water meant to be emptied completely and refilled to enjoy again tomorrow.

Our dog, our son...someday, we will see you again, our baby Ruger. Until then, we love and miss you terribly.

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." - Roger Caras

Fill-In-The-Gap Friday

2008-08-15T14:05:00.004-04:00

The Helmet Fitting

Back in November, the boys started physical therapy for a condition called Tortocullis. The kids grew unexpectedly fast for being preemies (they still are!) and all of that weight on muscles that were 2 months behind caused a few problems. They were as big, if not bigger than a full-term baby this age, but their muscles were developmentally two months, maybe three, behind. Basically, they couldn't move very well!

We had the boys sleeping in swings at this time, they were about 6 months old. Because they slept upright most of the day, they started to favor looking out on one side of the swing, which was toward all the action! The extra weight combined with this sleeping position wreaked havoc on their neck muscles. They started to get "stuck" looking to the left. Their heads tipped down to their shoulder, ear almost touching - and this was constant. They just didn't have the muscle tone to fight it and return back to a righted position.

We took them in for their check up and they recommended starting physical therapy to correct this. We started taking them to the Children's Hospital PT Department where a lovely PT named Dominique stretched and pulled and tugged ever so gently on their shoulders, necks and arms. She noticed that Cole was the most severe, most likely because his head was the biggest and therefore more heavy. She told us we needed to be coming in a few times a week to start seeing a positive progressive result. We just couldn't make that commitment! It was hard enough getting out of the house every few weeks at that time with all three! So, she suggested a State Aid program called Early Intervention, EI for short, that was controlled by each county. It's free to those who qualify for therapy, no matter what your income. AND, the best part is that they come to your house! Yay! It was the break we were looking for, so we signed up immediately.

Through all the red tape and paperwork, the therapists came to the house to evaluate the boys for therapy qualifications. Of course, they were both in desperate need for it, so they both got on board. We started Physical Therapy (PT) and Occupational Therapy (OT) right away, with both therapists visiting the house weekly. After a few sessions, the PT noticed that because of the "stuck" position the boys had been in for quite some time, the back of their heads were extremely flattened on one side. They were significantly misshapen and that required attention.

It was not only the aesthetic aspect, it certainly looked terrible and we didn't want them to deal with a misshapen head for the rest of their lives! It was also an alignment problem. Since the one side of their head was growing out and the other wasn't, it was throwing their whole head out of alignment as it grew. Their eyes were tipped, one ear was higher than the other and their jaw was torqued. If not properly guided back to a central plane, these parts of their faces would suffer serious life altering affects in the years to come. Because they were learning to adjust to the world, their brain would assume that this tipped line of sight was normal and begin to see that way. Then, if a correction was made to their heads/eyes later in life, even though their eyes would physically be straight, their line of sight would remain crooked. Weird! So, we felt a sense of urgency to correct this major problem. I think their jaws worried us the most.

We were led to a great Orthotics place who make helmets to correct the shape of babies' heads. We went for a fitting, paper mache and all, so that the kids would have a custom fitted orthotic. They were called "Star Bands", not sure why...but they were made of a hard plastic shell with layers of foam painstakingly adhered to the inside. The idea is that as the kids grow, they remove parts of the foam, one layer at a time in an area they want to encourage the head to grow into. Otherwise, they left the foam to "hold" an area, as they called it, encouraging the growth to the path of least resistance, the open spots. In no way did it press the head or constrict growth, just encourage into a certain area. It was actually quite loose! We were able to pick the design on the outside of it, to make it more fun and less of an obvious medical device. It also had a opening in the top, a circle, so you could just see the new hair they were sprouting poking through the top. So cute!

Braden was having a hard time, it was hard to watch...

Cole is in good spirits!

Still doing well!

Phew, it's over! Covered in plaster...

It did a tremendous job for both of the boys. Braden's condition was much less severe than Cole's, so he only had to wear it for about 3 months. Cole had his on for about 5 months. Much less than we anticipated, since they warned us we might need 8-10 months at the high end of the estimate. The point is to keep them on until we see a desired result, and then keep it on any time the baby may be stationary, laying on the back of his head for a long period of time (ie, sleeping) until the growth plates fuse.

On New Year's Eve, we picked up the new helmets. Day One! We started on a schedule meant to acclimate them to their new accessory, and after two days, it was on full time. That meant, 23 hours a day, 7 days a week. One hour break to get a bath and to clean out the helmet with alcohol. After a few days, the boys were fine, barely noticing them. It was actually nice protection for Cole, who was just starting to move around, rolling into the points of the coffee table. It protected him more times than we can count over those few months!
We traveled to Rochester once a week to the Orthotics place so that the helmets could be checked for the need to cut out any new foam areas. It was tedious, but we kept reminding ourselves of the ultimate goal! We had a tremendous experience with everyone involved, we would recommend it highly to those who are worried too! Best of all, EI took care of the bill for us, since Insurance does not cover the cost of the helmets. They consider it merely an aesthetic device, which is so far from the truth, it's silly. We have been told many a time that we are lucky to be living in Genesee County, since the services are much better over here. We know how lucky we are and thank God every day for the services we have been put into contact with - our babies are in good hands!

They were actually kinda cute...

And it never stopped them from trouble,

Or sleeping....

Or playing....

Or wrestling!

A Bath For Three

2008-08-14T08:06:00.002-04:00

We usually give the kids a bath separately every other night. All three right after one another, boom, boom, boom. An assembly line of cleaning babies! I bathe them and Mike does the diapering, lotioning, changing. And that means that at any given time, there is a baby hanging out, somewhere in the house, left to their own devices. Scary.

We typically put on their favorite Sesame Street Sing Along DVD, complete with "Rubber Duckie" so they can get psyched for their bath! Well, ok, that's not the reason. But it does keep them occupied for the little time we need them to be, which gets me psyched! Plus, we get the added bonus of memorizing every. single. song. on that DVD. Put that on my resume!

So, it's not the best situation, but it works, for now. I have been wanting to try bathing all three together...to see what it would be like...easier? harder? I needed to know! It seemed that if we could conquer this feat, it would cut bath time down significantly. And that, dear readers, would be so priceless to us. You see the motivation here? That, and it would be super cute, seeing them all in there together, playing together.

It was more than just a bath together, it was a Big Day! We got them all in and Mike pulled out the "Bath Toy" he has been saving for this very moment. I kid you not, it was that important! We actually had it on our Registry List for our baby shower...Mike scanned it when we were about 5 months pregnant with the trio, looking like a little kid himself. I was laughing and crying because when he found it, the look on his face registered pure joy and excitement. He was really ready to be a Dad. In that moment, I knew we were going to be ok.

All that over a toy!

Now, you wonder, what kind of toy could change us so profoundly? A Crayola Bath ColorWorks Suds Thingy. I can't remember the exact name of it and I'm too lazy to go find it right now...but in essence, it makes the bath a Bubble Bath, and changes the suds different colors - it allows the "kid" (however old they may be, say 35) to twirl handles, flip levers and press buttons, all to create suds and change the bath into a green or blue foaming mess. Fun! I think they are still a little too young for it yet, and Mike is still a little too old for it, but it was fun nonetheless. ;)

Braden is so gosh darn adorable...

Playing with the ColorWorks Thingy

Braden

Alex

Cole, with the typical wagging finger in his face!

"Three in the bath" was a fun experience, but certainly not the efficiency model I was hoping for! Letting them all play took a lot more time than before. So, back to the one on one time....maybe in a few months we'll go back to bathing them all together and get the stopwatches out again! Just kidding. I am really hoping they can start to enjoy bath time together instead of being soaped up in record time just so Mommy and Daddy can throw them into bed a little quicker each night! Play time for them is important enough to us to lose a few zzzzs every once in a while.

I am going to try something different here. There have been so many events or just little things that I have never posted about since so much time passed after them, they seemed irrelevant to tell the story at that point. Say, like the Christening. Huge! But I never got a chance to post pics or tell the story. So, I think I am going to go back and pull out some random pictures every week, something I missed posting because I had no time at the time, and "fill-in" the gaps. Hey, it might be fun! I can call it "Fill-In the Gap Friday" or "Flashback Friday"...I'll work on that. But, hopefully I will post tomorrow - that would be a record! Two days in a row. Whoa. I am tired all ready... See you tomorrow!