oooh that little....

So there I am, 2am wake up again. Kids are getting sick. The boys are coughing their lungs out, noses running at a fast pace and we begin. The least sick kid, A, is waking every 20 min. At first I am sympathetic. I mean her brothers are coughing, so how can she sleep? I go in, I pat her, tuck her in, stroke her head. Worry a little because she usually cries the most the night before she gets sick so I know what's coming right?

Meanwhile, because my children are annoying, B has decided that every time I come into the room it must be for him. Even though his sister is the one screaming, it's him I must have come running to pat, right? So since I dare to go to her first he starts in. Whining, standing up, rattling his cage, fussing, and eventually, screaming. Sigh. So I get her settled and step over to settle him down. No sooner do I step away but her head pops up. I step back over to her crib and gently (or maybe not so gently) place her head back onto the mattress. B pops up and starts fussing again. I mean really? Am I supposed to stay calm and rational at this moment? Do you two really not realize that you are one of three yet? I will pat whichever of you needs it most at whatever time and you are to keep your little head down on your mattress and zip it!

So it carries on like this until I leave the room, hoping I've settled each somewhat enough. 20 minutes later, I'm back on it. A starts screaming her fool head off and I return. I check her all over for leaky diaper, poop, broken parts, scorpions, you name it. Nothing. Wrong. Fine, I still feel sorry for her because seemingly, even though when I stand over B he does not cough, the minute I leave the room his coughing starts up again. I'd venture to guess 'someone' is sitting up when I leave the room but since I'm not allowed to tie him to his mattress, so it will be.

From 2-4am I play this every 20 minutes game. I am patient, no? But you know what? I'm done. At 4 I am physically done, mentally finished and overall going to kill a child if I step back in that nursery again before morning officially begins so I hear her screaming like she's being skinned alive but I wait. She calms down on her own, I begin to drift off thinking maybe it's all over. Oh, there she goes again. She's winding up for the scream when B says 'da' to her. That's triplet speak for "I'm awake too, wanna play?" Or so I think I've translated. So here's what it sounds like:

"Aaaaaaahhh..." "da" "Aaaahhh, DA DA, Auuuuuggghhhaaaaauughghwahaaaaaahhh!"

I kid you not. She paused in her scream to respond to B happily and calmly, "da da" being triplet speak for "I'm up for playing!" only to return to her screaming now that that business was out of the way. I can not repeat here the words that came out of my mouth when I heard this. If that girl thinks I'm stupid enough to hear her talking with her brother about playing and still think she's dying of some unknown condition at 4am? That little girl is wrong. That little girl is such a faker! I can tell you, however, that I did NOT get out of bed again. And you know what? She was alive in the morning. Probably a better result than she deserved.

Let's talk about crazy

I have to admit that I never would have thought that someone would want to fake being a triplet mom just to get other triplet moms to like her. I mean there are so many people out there, why pick some ladies who are already so overwhelmed by their own lives that they barely have time to read your long, punctuationless posts, much less respond to the fact that you seem to have simultaneously suffered from every possible pregnancy problem from a ruptured uterus to nurses apparently allowing your live baby to die in your arms because they supposedly didn't even want to try to keep her alive. Um, laying it on a bit thick there. Oh, and I didn't even mention your bodily structural problems you have suffered with since birth. Let's take a random sampling of your writing shall we?

"i have been on growth hormone shots since i was 10 from my ribs to my iliac crest the front hip bones is 3 inches my doctor told my that two babies at 22 weeks for me is like me being 42 weeks plus so carrying one baby would still be like me being a 12 year old girl pregnant them we you and i would get into a hole nother factor"

So if you're anything like me, dear readers, your eyes are bleeding and your head is spinning from the sheer insanity of this......uh, sentence? But then you keep going. I mean it's not enough for you to have a strange body that is ill suited to carrying triplets, right? That might not get you enough sympathy? Is that what you're after? Why not have cancer or something? That could last years and pregnancy is only 8 or 9 months! Let's check another sample:

"i started having braxtion hicks contrations at 22 wks and didnt know i was till the end when i explained to dr..also i went to er with discharge streaked pink and they sent me home i wasnt dialated then nor did they check my cervical length to see if i was funneling or my efacement nor my station so againg i say i wish i could go back and change things and domanted a cerclage"

"Domanted?" Really? But getting back to my point, here's where you made a mistake. See, you got your information screwed up I think as Braxton Hicks contractions are harmless. They do not require panic or any other response other than to lay down and drink some water. This, if the nature of your writing did not give us other clues, is where we put a period at the end of the sentence (unlike you). You are a fraud, a pretender, a freak show on parade. We have a winner! You may, in fact, be the strangest fake post we've ever had.

It's funny, in a deranged sort of way, but the pretenders always lay it on a little too thick. We would believe you if you had a 'normal' pregnancy for much longer than if you have 80 or 90 types of miscarriage symptoms along with an abusive husband, a home for miscreant teens, a house that just burned down and 8 previous failed pregnancies. I mean really. Is carrying triplets not enough? Pregnancy sucked. Pregnancy was miserable from beginning to end. We understand that type of misery so well that we would pour sympathy all over you just to help ourselves not feel alone. Please, my friend the faker, just try again next time with punctuation, spell check and a check on your creative, miserable imagination. Ok?