1. Just when you get the baby to sleep a triplet will wake up. Especially if it's 3 am.
2. Once you get the triplet back to sleep the baby will reawaken or you just won't be able to sleep.
3. If one triplet awakens and screams for 10 minutes, no one will awaken......until you have gone back to bed and are juuuuuust falling asleep. Then triplet #2 will awaken.
4. When an illness descends upon the family each kid will get it 2-3 days apart so that you have a minimum of 6 days of high level whininess. Meanwhile you will also get the stupid cold but no one wants to hear you whine.
5. At least one child out of 4 is having a bad day EVERY DAY.
6. What one kid has, every kid must have. RIGHT NOW.
7. Even though everyone has one it's still not the one they want.
8. There's never enough.
9. If mommy's doing it, I want grandma to do it. If grandma's doing it, I want mommy to do it.
10. I don't care if I liked it yesterday, I don't like it today.
11. There are always more problems than you have hands to handle them.
12. At least one kid probably hates you every minute of the day.
13. Everyone on the outside thinks you're mother of the year.
An old mom with triplets plus one and an elderly mom to take care of. It's a party all the time.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
This is not a pity party
When you're raised in a family where the parents are a narcissistic alcoholic and bipolar who never had a childhood, you learn to take care of yourself.
Scratch that. You learn to take care of everyone else BUT yourself.
You tiptoe around the house trying not to set off the alarms. You roll along under the radar behaving yourself but for your back talk, which, for some reason, is mostly tolerated in this family. You may even scream and scream, literally, to be heard, but you wont be. But you don't learn that taking care of yourself is of prime importance. Because the whole family is about taking care of your sick mom.
And when your brother dies, and your mom falls apart - more - you grow up fast and take on more responsibility. And more. You collect friends around you who are dependent upon you. You attract needy people like flies and wonder why you're so tired all the time. And why you're depressed too.
And then you have a family of your own. You frantically run around (figuratively more than literally) trying to be everything to everyone. Sure, you get a massage now and then. And you do sit on your butt after everyone's asleep instead of doing laundry or cleaning the house. And you make your children crap for dinner instead of real meals, but in your mind you are constantly on guard. You don't know how to let them take care of themselves. Not even your grown husband. You are afraid to sleep train the baby, even though you did ok with the triplets. You are concerned you're messing them up for not having dinner with them at a table every night instead of eating later when it's quiet. There's always something you could be doing.
In theory, you have to run out of energy at some point. But in 38 years I haven't. I do take care of myself in certain ways. I am pretty good at fighting for a few minutes to myself even if it's at the expense of couple time. But I am afraid. Am I going to go so far in the other direction from my parents that I actually create narcissists in my own children? Will they learn that they have to take care of each other, me, their dad or grandparents and themselves in fair amounts? Will they turn into the opposite of me like I did my parents? Is it possible, in the first generation, to create a different story?
And when things come out of my mouth that sound just like my mom and dad like "what is wrong with you?" can they forgive me? Because nothing is wrong with them. They're just being 2. My mom watches them and shakes her head with the honest belief that something is wrong with them. I merely have a momentary thought of 'what has gotten into you' and I can see the difference, but can they? Will they think I think poorly of them because I do too much for them? Will they think I think they're stupid because I help them do things?
How do you parent well when you have not been parented well? How do you not go so far off the other end and create a whole different set of traps? Therapy is helpful, but when those kids have driven you to the edge of your sanity and you haven't slept in weeks and you just want to sit down and eat some damned lunch if they would just nap like they're supposed to......how do you not yell the things you grew up hearing at them? "Why are you doing this to me?" "I'll give you something to cry about" "Don't talk back to me missy!"
I know no one is the perfect parent but I'd like to be middle of the road. Is it possible?
Scratch that. You learn to take care of everyone else BUT yourself.
You tiptoe around the house trying not to set off the alarms. You roll along under the radar behaving yourself but for your back talk, which, for some reason, is mostly tolerated in this family. You may even scream and scream, literally, to be heard, but you wont be. But you don't learn that taking care of yourself is of prime importance. Because the whole family is about taking care of your sick mom.
And when your brother dies, and your mom falls apart - more - you grow up fast and take on more responsibility. And more. You collect friends around you who are dependent upon you. You attract needy people like flies and wonder why you're so tired all the time. And why you're depressed too.
And then you have a family of your own. You frantically run around (figuratively more than literally) trying to be everything to everyone. Sure, you get a massage now and then. And you do sit on your butt after everyone's asleep instead of doing laundry or cleaning the house. And you make your children crap for dinner instead of real meals, but in your mind you are constantly on guard. You don't know how to let them take care of themselves. Not even your grown husband. You are afraid to sleep train the baby, even though you did ok with the triplets. You are concerned you're messing them up for not having dinner with them at a table every night instead of eating later when it's quiet. There's always something you could be doing.
In theory, you have to run out of energy at some point. But in 38 years I haven't. I do take care of myself in certain ways. I am pretty good at fighting for a few minutes to myself even if it's at the expense of couple time. But I am afraid. Am I going to go so far in the other direction from my parents that I actually create narcissists in my own children? Will they learn that they have to take care of each other, me, their dad or grandparents and themselves in fair amounts? Will they turn into the opposite of me like I did my parents? Is it possible, in the first generation, to create a different story?
And when things come out of my mouth that sound just like my mom and dad like "what is wrong with you?" can they forgive me? Because nothing is wrong with them. They're just being 2. My mom watches them and shakes her head with the honest belief that something is wrong with them. I merely have a momentary thought of 'what has gotten into you' and I can see the difference, but can they? Will they think I think poorly of them because I do too much for them? Will they think I think they're stupid because I help them do things?
How do you parent well when you have not been parented well? How do you not go so far off the other end and create a whole different set of traps? Therapy is helpful, but when those kids have driven you to the edge of your sanity and you haven't slept in weeks and you just want to sit down and eat some damned lunch if they would just nap like they're supposed to......how do you not yell the things you grew up hearing at them? "Why are you doing this to me?" "I'll give you something to cry about" "Don't talk back to me missy!"
I know no one is the perfect parent but I'd like to be middle of the road. Is it possible?
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Parental fear
I was reading an article on post partum depression the other day and I came across a peculiar symptom they listed as a sign that you have it: fear of being left alone with your kid(s).
Um, I've been afraid of being alone with my triplets since they were 3 months old.
I started off with confidence. I was planning on being a stay at home mom anyway, so now I'd just be extra busy, right? After I finally got all three triplets at home I really wanted to try it on my own so I sent the mother in law home to Illinois and started in on my new life. I was practically fearless. I mean, what could happen?
RSV. That's what. For those of you without children, RSV is a typical cold for grown ups that can kill infants. It smothers them with snot. Days after the kids got home from the NICU they came down with colds. The fevers meant I had to get them checked and each time I took one to the doctor they failed the blood oxygenation test. In other words, they were not getting enough oxygen by breathing on their own. They all ended up in the pediatric ward for 3 days on oxygen and having the snot sucked out of them by this dastardly machine they have invented. It was a wee bit scary but under control I suppose.
So after they all got home from the hospital from that, my husband thought it was finally time for him to go back to work. Monday morning he headed out. We had a normal morning, except that it seemed like J went a little blue when I fed him, but I was sure it was a trick of the lighting. He was fine otherwise, and the blue was just around the mouth and his eyes were red but just for a bit.
Yeah I know.
So then it was hours later and I started feeding him again. This can't be right. He's looking all funny again. Red raccoon eyes and blue around the mouth. But RSV is only supposed to be deadly in the first 72 hours! What is going on? My parents were still in town so I called them to come stay with the other two triplets and headed off to the ER. At every stoplight I reached back and checked if my infant was still breathing. I hit every stoplight on the way of course. By the time I reached the ER he was grey. I got fastracked in you might say. His oxygen saturation was 85 or so. Not ok.
That was my first day alone with the kids.
But that wasn't all it took. After several days alone again it was time to bathe the kids one by one in the infant tub in the kitchen sink. It seemed that apparently the other two refused to be left alone at this particular juncture. Screaming ensued. Each time I'd exchange one kid for another they'd change places. the one being bathed was happy as a clam. The other two? Banshees.
Then they started the witching hour business. Have you ever had 3 infants screaming inconsolably at you for even 5 minutes? It is insanity producing. It actually makes you want to grab one and beat the other two with it.
I didn't have post-partum depression. I had post traumatic stress disorder. It's a wonder I don't have flashbacks today. It's a wonder I don't wake screaming in the night trying to swaddle my husband while binkying a cat and bottle feeding the table lamp.
So, being afraid to be left alone with your kids? Somewhat understandable. At some point I called my mother in law and begged her to come back. And then I told her she was never allowed to leave again. These days I try to work myself into some sort of calm state when I'm to be left alone with the kids. Last week when grandma had to head home due to being sick as a dog and I had to handle bedtime alone? It was a challenge I was kind of excited about. And the next night when I had to do baths alone? No problem. But the fear strikes initially. That old feeling that I have no chance in surviving the onslaught of triplets plus one on my own. And then I realize that I can and will be ok.
As long as I have a glass of wine.
Um, I've been afraid of being alone with my triplets since they were 3 months old.
I started off with confidence. I was planning on being a stay at home mom anyway, so now I'd just be extra busy, right? After I finally got all three triplets at home I really wanted to try it on my own so I sent the mother in law home to Illinois and started in on my new life. I was practically fearless. I mean, what could happen?
RSV. That's what. For those of you without children, RSV is a typical cold for grown ups that can kill infants. It smothers them with snot. Days after the kids got home from the NICU they came down with colds. The fevers meant I had to get them checked and each time I took one to the doctor they failed the blood oxygenation test. In other words, they were not getting enough oxygen by breathing on their own. They all ended up in the pediatric ward for 3 days on oxygen and having the snot sucked out of them by this dastardly machine they have invented. It was a wee bit scary but under control I suppose.
So after they all got home from the hospital from that, my husband thought it was finally time for him to go back to work. Monday morning he headed out. We had a normal morning, except that it seemed like J went a little blue when I fed him, but I was sure it was a trick of the lighting. He was fine otherwise, and the blue was just around the mouth and his eyes were red but just for a bit.
Yeah I know.
So then it was hours later and I started feeding him again. This can't be right. He's looking all funny again. Red raccoon eyes and blue around the mouth. But RSV is only supposed to be deadly in the first 72 hours! What is going on? My parents were still in town so I called them to come stay with the other two triplets and headed off to the ER. At every stoplight I reached back and checked if my infant was still breathing. I hit every stoplight on the way of course. By the time I reached the ER he was grey. I got fastracked in you might say. His oxygen saturation was 85 or so. Not ok.
That was my first day alone with the kids.
But that wasn't all it took. After several days alone again it was time to bathe the kids one by one in the infant tub in the kitchen sink. It seemed that apparently the other two refused to be left alone at this particular juncture. Screaming ensued. Each time I'd exchange one kid for another they'd change places. the one being bathed was happy as a clam. The other two? Banshees.
Then they started the witching hour business. Have you ever had 3 infants screaming inconsolably at you for even 5 minutes? It is insanity producing. It actually makes you want to grab one and beat the other two with it.
I didn't have post-partum depression. I had post traumatic stress disorder. It's a wonder I don't have flashbacks today. It's a wonder I don't wake screaming in the night trying to swaddle my husband while binkying a cat and bottle feeding the table lamp.
So, being afraid to be left alone with your kids? Somewhat understandable. At some point I called my mother in law and begged her to come back. And then I told her she was never allowed to leave again. These days I try to work myself into some sort of calm state when I'm to be left alone with the kids. Last week when grandma had to head home due to being sick as a dog and I had to handle bedtime alone? It was a challenge I was kind of excited about. And the next night when I had to do baths alone? No problem. But the fear strikes initially. That old feeling that I have no chance in surviving the onslaught of triplets plus one on my own. And then I realize that I can and will be ok.
As long as I have a glass of wine.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged
It all started innocently enough. A friend posted this to her Facebook:
Ferry Building Farmers Market: one mom, infant triplets, a bus of a stroller. Brave, insane, inconsiderate? Discuss....
And fairly begged me to comment via text. For those of you who don't know, the Ferry Building is a crowded old building crammed with people during the farmer's market. Any size stroller is a pain in the butt there to move around, much less a triple wide. I own a triple wide and I only think it's fit for wide open spaces like the zoo. But I have the luxury of owning more than one stroller. So I said:
Desperate? The poor woman probably can't get out wo them but she could use a double and a baby backpack if you'd prefer! Would be a little more considerate
And thought that was the end of it. But then this appeared:
wait...are we supposed to discuss the stroller or fertility treatment...which can also fall under the categories of brave, insane, inconsiderate. just saying...
Oh ho! Picking a fight with an infertile woman are you? Well then. Here we go again. It definitely inflames the hell out of me that people see a woman with a multiple pregnancy or offspring and instantly 1. know they did fertility treatments (even though triplets do come spontaneously people, even quints do) and 2. get to judge the use of such treatments just because more than one baby came of it.
WTH? So, if I had done fertility treatment and only had one baby I'm above judgement? If I had just accepted my infertile status I'd be above judgement or perhaps even saintly? I'm sorry, did you accept the mole growing on your face or did you get it removed? Did you accept your cancer diagnosis or did you get treated for it? Did you accept that you couldn't walk due to a birth defect or did you get physical therapy and canes to walk with?
What's the difference?
So I lay in bed fuming this morning thinking about it. These young women who have not experienced infertility passing judgement on those who have is inexcusable. First, as women, we should stick together. We don't need beat downs from each other. Second, as a woman, you should understand something about what being infertile might do to your psyche that a man might not. Third, if it doesn't affect you, bug off.
Asking a woman to just get over being infertile is like asking a life long runner to get over not being able to run ever again. It's like asking a life long lover of books to just get over being blind. It's like asking a teacher to get over never being able to speak again. It is a part of (most) women's being that they are procreative. It is part of who we assume we are at birth, we can be mothers whenever we want to be. In theory. When you are hit in the face with the reality that you can't? It's trauma. What you do with that trauma is your business.
And if the doctor tells you that you have less than a 20% chance of having any babies at all with your eggs and so he throws the book at you with every hormone in the book and 6 shots a day and you still only produce 3 viable embryos? You put them in your uterus. And if, by some miracle, against stunning odds, all three of them implant and grow? You are just lucky as hell. Not someone to be judged.
Just lucky as hell.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Bad Dreams
As a parent there are many things you want to spare your children. Bad experiences you may have had, may have heard about or just may imagine could happen. Broken bones, broken dreams, broken hearts, and so on. And in the early years, when they can't talk to you, you spend an awful lot of time trying to decipher crying spells. Is she hurt, physically or mentally? Is he wet, uncomfortable, achey? Is she frustrated, angry, irritated?
My children are no exception. Some of them cry more than others. One in particular, J, seemed to have nightmares right from the start. Terrifying ordeals of him screaming and yelling and thrashing, inconsolable, unreachable in his terror. Sure, we read about night terrors and how they don't remember them in the morning, but how the heck do they know that when the kid can't speak?
And the other thing you have to wonder about is what is a nightmare to a 8 month old? Being hungry and no bottle in sight? Having to take a nap when you don't feel tired? What are they having nightmares about?
The older you get, you figure the more things they can have nightmares about. And, unfortunately, with triplets the language comes later. Mine are just starting to put two words together at 29 months. Singleton children are stringing sentences together at this point. But regardless, in the middle of the night they're mute. You go in to the screaming, crying child and ask them what's wrong. You soothe and hug them and they remain mute. They just stare at you like they don't even recognize you, and then they go back to sleep again quieted for a moment.
So you're left with the question. What are the nightmares about? Has someone done something inappropriate to or with them? Is someone or something scaring them regularly? Is there something you should be protecting them from that you aren't?
And then you lay in bed at 6:20 am in the morning, listening, and find out what the nightmare is about:
"No, no, no, NO! My bucket. My bucket, MY BUCKET!!!"
My children are no exception. Some of them cry more than others. One in particular, J, seemed to have nightmares right from the start. Terrifying ordeals of him screaming and yelling and thrashing, inconsolable, unreachable in his terror. Sure, we read about night terrors and how they don't remember them in the morning, but how the heck do they know that when the kid can't speak?
And the other thing you have to wonder about is what is a nightmare to a 8 month old? Being hungry and no bottle in sight? Having to take a nap when you don't feel tired? What are they having nightmares about?
The older you get, you figure the more things they can have nightmares about. And, unfortunately, with triplets the language comes later. Mine are just starting to put two words together at 29 months. Singleton children are stringing sentences together at this point. But regardless, in the middle of the night they're mute. You go in to the screaming, crying child and ask them what's wrong. You soothe and hug them and they remain mute. They just stare at you like they don't even recognize you, and then they go back to sleep again quieted for a moment.
So you're left with the question. What are the nightmares about? Has someone done something inappropriate to or with them? Is someone or something scaring them regularly? Is there something you should be protecting them from that you aren't?
And then you lay in bed at 6:20 am in the morning, listening, and find out what the nightmare is about:
"No, no, no, NO! My bucket. My bucket, MY BUCKET!!!"
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