That's the theme this week.
Really. Sunday was a zoo trip. And
basically every day since then I've felt like
I'm part of a zoo. Smells like a zoo, too,
sometimes. But that's another story.
Anyway, I've been passing the
time this past week poking fun at this crazy
triplet life and finding myself incredibly
amused. Every triplet mom needs a
diversion to keep her grounded. I have
loads. But this past week, I've found
myself reflecting on the funnier aspects.
This morning, I took the little
ones to Party City in search of a beloved
giraffe that Nadia had lost. I had heard
they sold them there, so off we went.
While lugging the trio through the store in the
choo-choo wagon, I passed both a young guy and a
nicely-done display of Easter eggs, peeps, etc.
He was so taken aback by the choo-choo wagon and
its contents, that he ran straight into the
display. Oh, if only I'd had my video
camera. Those metal hanging display rods
went clanging to the floor, peeps, eggs, and
grass went tumbling. That young guy felt
like an idiot. But I saw the humor.
Let me just face the fact that I
am pretty much a prisoner in my own home, being
held captive by some very devious captors.
We can't go outside because our yard presents so
many issues in the way of safety. Well, I
threw caution to the wind and out we went.
Nadia and Max were very proud to be sporting
underwear instead of a diaper. Ruca was
proud to be a member of the diaper club.
Anyway, all you-know-what broke loose. Max
ditched his clothes and started rubbing his
man-parts in the dirt, aka the catbox.
Nadia scraped her leg and was demanding a
bayandide (very southern accent for bandaid).
Soon after she peed her pants. Making a
mad dash inside for new clothes, I returned to
count heads, thankful that nobody had escaped.
I brought with me four popsicles
which promptly fell in the dirt. Umm,
excuse me, catbox. Yanking them from their
little hands and ushering them inside, I
realized I was covered with drool, sticky
popsicles, and pee. Did I change my shirt?
Yeah, right. No time. Later, I
looked down at my shirt before heading out to a
choral performance Kelli was participating in
and realized I was covered with unidentifiable
crusty patches. I can only guess. I
had to laugh.
I think many triplet moms could
get a false sense of their own self-worth if
they only paid attention to the onlookers who
forever praise their fertile efforts and
organized ways. I think bringing them back
down to earth are days like I had today.
And, I try to laugh either way.
New news: Kelli's group
sounded superb tonight. That teacher is
awesome. Brings out the talent. I'm
so proud of my pretty talented hardworking
daughter. She's on her way to getting a
vehicle by the end of the school year for all of
Angus's need to know things has
exploded this week. I heard "why" so many
times today I was answering the echos of "why"
in my head even when he wasn't asking.
After the 300th creative answer, my responses
turn to "Gee, Mommies sometimes just don't have
all the answers. Wait until Daddy gets
home. Maybe he'll know." So the
"why's" soon begin after Loren gets home.
And I get a little break and he's none the "why"zer.
Nadia is speaking in
well-thought out sentences now. Ruca not
so much. Max, well we're waiting.
But each gets his or her point across.
Max, behind in language, makes up for it with
his destruction skills. Nadia makes up for
apathy to learning new things with cute.
Nadia is all cute and all smart all the time.
But she's a mean little elf. We're
contemplating renting the girls and Angus out as
leprechauns this year. Okay, just kidding.
Nadia, changing Ruca's diaper. When they change each other, it's time to potty train!
Reading Bats on the Beach with Dad