Lost Count - of # of surprises!

I can’t count the number of surprises I’ve had the past few days. After an hour or so of post-bedtime giggling, I went into the girls’ room to tell them to go to sleep. I found two girls in one crib, and the other still in her crib alone. I turned on my heels and ran down the hall to find my husband, who informed me that he had not moved anyone from their own bedtime spot. Sometimes we do let them “fall asleep” together or just play together for a while before separating them into their own cribs.

Turning on my heels again I hurried back to the room. N and E had that “cat-ate-the-bird” grin on their faces. Puzzled, I asked: “N, how did you get in there? Show us (by then, my husband was right behind me) how you did it.” She hesitated, then I assured her that its ok. In a blur of a half second she bounded over the side of the crib and landed feet on the floor. Surprise, kid on the loose!

Again I closed the door to three girls in three separate cribs. The squeaking and laughter didn’t stop, so eventually I opened that door once again. Surprise! All three girls were in ONE crib. Now I knew we had two flying monkeys.

Another time, I opened that door to find two little figures busy as bees in the dark. One was handing a toy over the crib to the one sister who hadn’t left her perch. Surprise! They are bold in their rebellion. With as little emotion as possible, I plopped them back in their cribs and repeated the mantra. The short version is “stay in your crib!” I’m in trouble now.

The next morning I awoke to sounds of a toy stroller rolling past my bedroom door. The mischief continues.

Last night they all woke up one at a time just when I was ready to go to sleep. First I brought H into bed with us and she was snug as a bug in a rug. When the other two started crying I knew I was doomed. They never go back to sleep when I go in to comfort them, and sure enough after a long while of making nice, rubbing backs, and holding tightly, they resumed crying when I pulled back my hand. All three girls joined us in bed, jogging for space, squirming and fighting over which one got more of me. Little E was on my chest, head heavy and hard into my chin. H made a pillow of her blanked on my left shoulder and rubbed her thumb sucking cheek against mine, and N bent herself over on my legs (until she found her favorite sleeping place on top of her Abba). When this sweet picture inevitably turned into elbows in the face I brought each girl back to her crib and let them cry it out. This morning E appeared at my feet.

At the moment they are napping and N and E are in their very own beds, converted this morning from cribs by yours truly. Instead of surprise on my face -as has become so frequent- I unlocked the door after fun with the Allen wrench to a bewildered N. Surprise! You have your own bed, no more crib. She stared, face as confused as I was to discover she could fly into her sisters’ crib. A smile began as she approached her bed yet she didn’t know what to do. I encouraged her to try it out, taught her how to (properly) get in and out, and repeated the mantra “you stay in your bed until we get you out.”

As usual, I let my children tell me when they’re ready for change and it happens before I feel ready. I tucked them in for nap in the “new” beds after a little more work on the next crib conversion and a late lunch of rice pasta with olive oil. H was a bit sad that she’s still in a crib, and I was a bit sad to look back into the room at big girl beds. They showed me that it was time to say goodbye to baby cribs and they surprised me with their tremendous wisdom. I am the one who has to catch up, who feels rushed to the next stage. Potty training was the same way. And eating with utensils, And eating solid foods. Each time, the girls (usually one at a time) told me they wanted to try something new. I let them experiment and gave some pointers. These girls are awesome. They are resilient, adventurous, caring, smart and so darn gorgeous. They constantly surprise me.

Today I had the joyous opportunity to surprise them, to show them what they were seeking with the crib climbing mischief flying monkey behavior. I heard their call, and responded to their need, even though it was outside my comfort zone. Frightened and awed by the way they are claiming their freedom, I will find clever ways to create boundaries for their (God willing safe) exploration. Conversely, I hope to break through my own constricting boundaries with the same brave, bold, confident and natural movement toward freedom.

for you: if you could fly, where would you go? what would you leave behind? who are your teachers?

Tonight will be 10+1 days of the Omer. Shabbat Shalom!

20 - Triplets Twice

Six children under two, with only two birth dates amongst them, gobbled down an entire Tel Aviv pizza in minutes. Not a nursery school field trip, just two triplet families grabbing a rare unplanned moment to connect. That's how we roll, last minute, whatever works, as often as we can – which in reality means three times total in twenty months. For the first time they are big enough to play with one another, explore, share toys, lift gallon water weights, share solid food. Barely beyond the baby stage, these six cuties give their parents a chance to chat. Introduced by our ob/gyn, our relationship is founded on the sole shared experience of triplet life, not to be underestimated as anything less than an all-encompassing lens on life. One of the skills of being a triplet parent, we have learned how to distill parenting and housekeeping into powerful reductions without waste of time, energy or resources. Our survival depends on eliminating the extraneous and accepting assistance whenever offered or available. In the course of a couple hours watching the little ones and over dinner, we catch up on the trios, the older sibs, marriage, work, extended family, personal time (rather the lack of it).

I recalled memories of meeting this couple and bringing my months old girls along, visiting the expectant mom at home while on bed rest, holding their newborn babies in the hospital, stopping in to give support to a sister in the way that only one who survived can provide. Not that I was long past her milestones, our children are only seven months apart, six gestationally. At this point they share similar developmental achievements and interestingly there are parallel personalities in the birth order of our two sets. The baby As, the first borns, are both easy-going, sweet mush types and the baby Bs, next born, are both little pistols. The baby Cs have less obvious similarities but both are angelic daddy's girls.

Only Friday I re-published recollections of counting the days of my high-risk pregnancy (Anticipating the Omer: Counting of a Different Kind) and I re-read it too. The lived truths within the essay are still hard to hold; though much more healing has happened even since last year. Most of the time I don't remember the details about trying to conceive, learning about the triplet pregnancy, enduring it and extending it as long as possible for the sake of my babies while sacrificing my self. Isn't it so easy to forget painful moments and live presently in happier times? When I was in college first reflecting on my childhood there were so many blanks; with time work I filled them in and made sense of it all. There is a time to forget and a time to remember. Memory can protect us in both ways, enabling us to select what we need to survive and warning us what cannot be repeated. Memory can enable happiness too, providing contrast and gratitude.

My presence for this triplet mom during her pregnancy was modeled for me by an another amazing multiple mom. A common experience brought us together and deep friendships developed on both sides, between me and my family and each of the other families. In addition to having multiples, each of these three families has four children and we especially appreciate a warm home full of love and bodies. We know better than to judge, value gemilut hasadim (acts of lovingkindness), live modestly, and respect each others' accomplishments as parents and partners.

Friends help us remember who we are, where we've been, why we're here and how we want to move into the future together. They hold up the memories that may be buried away from pain so we can integrate them and honor them in the present. Friends see our strengths and success and remind us of those too. They bless our memories and create new memories with us.

Today is the 20th day of the Omer, that is 2 weeks and 6 days of the Omer. Today is Yom Hazikaron, a day of memory.


Practice: Take at least a minute of silence to remember lost memories. Consider how they shaped your present and how presence to them can bring blessings for you. Remember the memories of loved ones lost, honor their memory with action. Remember the sacrifice those you knew and did not know gave for your values, to give the gifts you cherish the most.