Archive for January, 2009


eyes wide open

eyes wide open

Just so everyone’s clear – a little reminder about the colors (in birth order)

Satchel = Yellow (but also orange, brown and red…and sometimes white)

Pablo = Blue

Levi = Green


January 31, 2009 at 10:31 pm 4 comments

Apropos of everything…

Our friends (and idols) in Triiibe – the most kickin’ set of identical triplet performance artists you’ll ever know – made this little video back in October. Talk about being just slightly ahead of their time! If our boys can put there tripletdom to similar good use, we’ll be most proud indeed!

January 31, 2009 at 1:04 pm Leave a comment

Things fall apart

Mr. Clean (Pablo to you)

Mr. Clean (Pablo to you)

Our visiting nurse came today to peek at the boys, get them naked and throw them on the thousand-dollar scale she carries with her like a prized antique violin. It turns out the boys are busting out all over. Sit down as I report their current weights. Satchel, 8 lbs. 1 oz; Levi, 9 lbs, 1 oz.; and the man known as Tiny (but also sometimes known as Little Otik), Pablo, weighed in at a startling 10 lbs, 7 oz. What’s more, in her presence the boys were following shakers with their eyes, seeming more alert than ever previously, as if they wore their newly minted measurements as badges of entry into the world of the conscious. We kept them up a good long while (but never – for it is LAW – longer than two hours) and then watched them sink dreamily into their soft crib, emitting such powerful cuteness as I sang them down that for a moment it was uncertain that some subsequent joy could ever supplant this sublime parental moment.

We let them sleep until they started singing, which turned out to be more or less on schedule. But then we did it again, after the baths (evidence of which you see above), and they went a good four hours, and were mostly flop-dolls when they came to, to boot. Now they are down again, and we’re casting aside the schedule for the time being to see what sort of hours they might like to keep, given their druthers.  Alertly and unscheduled, we are sailing into the great unknown with our little roly polies. There’s the signpost up ahead, next stop, anarchy! Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy weekend.

January 31, 2009 at 12:21 am Leave a comment

Golden arches

So it turns out that Levi is the most prone of the brothers to diaper rash. We do what we can – including changing his diaper at least ten times a day – but every so often he develops a nasty redness in the worst of places, and today was one of those times. Educated parents that we are, we opted to “air him out” a little bit. You know, let him fly free and easy in the breeze, with his bum exposed to the elements (such as they be within our walls). How exactly to do this was a trick, but Al devised a plan whereby we spread a large receiving blanket on the bed, and then a long, waterproof mat on top of that. Then we cleaned Levi up, wrapped him loosely in yet another receiving blanket to keep him warm, while still leaving him in a general state of indecency.

Now while this is happening, on the same bed, Satchel and Pablo, who have just been fed, are cuddling up woozily, indicating their awareness of one another with the occasional involuntary poke or desperate sucking of the other’s forehead. Suddenly and shockingly, a spray of golden liquid shot forth from young Levi towards the heavens, an event we expected, but one which all the same held us mesmerized and unable to act. The golden arches, when dispatched thusly (as they are from time to time) are so spectacular in scope, arrive with so little warning (there is no “I’m about to pee” face, as far as I can tell), and are offered with such utter detachment on the part of the offender, that both Al and I tend to completely forget ourselves and just stare in amazement, tracing the arc of the fountain with a slow, admiring tilt of our necks. To be honest, I will every now and then shout scoldingly, “Do Something!” This was not one of those times. 

When the spigot resealed, we surveyed the crime scene. The bed seemed fine. Levi was unscathed. Neither Alex nor I had gotten caught in the crosshairs. But Pablo, poor Pablo, who half-smiled meekly all the same, was splattered with urine on his cheeks, above his eyes, around his mouth. And Satchel, who was only half awake, had a pool of it in his ear. 

Just another happy moment on the joyful path of triplet parenthood.

January 28, 2009 at 10:33 pm 8 comments

The Art of Eating

Thanks to Big Mama Al we are now almost one full day ahead – which has been our goal. She pumps, I supplement with formula (ratio, about 65-35 real stuff to synthetic) and bottle. The addition of small quantities of formula have enabled us to get ahead of the game, and Al’s steadfast work ethic and productivity ensure that we will presently be able to nudge the ratio back in the favor of mother nature. Here are the bottles I just made. Only 21 here, but tomorrow at this time (when these are gone) I am certain I’ll make 24. Life just keeps getting simpler. 

All you can eat

All you can eat

January 26, 2009 at 6:17 pm 6 comments

a view from the tummy time zone

taking a break from tummy time

taking a break from tummy time

Here’s just a little moment of an extended period of wakefulness this evening. Satchel tried even harder than this to eat Levi’s arm. Meanwhile Pablo is gonna smile for real any minute now…

January 26, 2009 at 1:00 am 1 comment

Give the people what they want

I am sitting on our big brown couch – the first and only couch we’ve ever owned – listening to static on the monitor. By means of this nifty little contraption, I can hear the goings on in the nursery, which is as far from where I am as any spot could be while still being in our apartment. The building is pretty old and solid, and it is safe to say that even though we all live on one floor, I would not hear any sort of sonic event going on down there without the aid of this device. And so I sit here gratefully and quietly, as the six other creatures in my midst drift towards sleep and beyond. I walked in to check on Alex and saw her and JJ, both passed out on the bed, having earned their exhaustion in their own unique ways. 

I should mention that I am waiting for an alarm – in the form of a squeaking, grunting or screaming infant – to rouse me from my slouch and pull me into action. We are transitioning with the night feedings – trying to stretch them out a bit, trying to reclaim the dark side of our days. Last night Alex and I administered feedings at 12 and then 4, and then around 7:30 (I’d like to take credit for that one, but it was actually Jane in there in my place as I showered and drove off to the clink to pick up our newly dis-herniated Leviticus.) During the day it was mostly back to every three hours, as we gradually tweaked timings to get back on our beloved 2:30, 5:30, 8:30, 11:30 merry-go-round.

A few peeps on the monitor, and someone, maybe Pablo?, saying “meeeeee,” and then silence. I’ll just wait here, typing to you, until one of the brethren’s vocalizations reach that certain threshold of seriousness that means come and come now, drop your computer and your tea and please refill my tank and if you hesitate much further I’m gonna bring the ruckus. I want them to last until 12, at which point I’ll probably just commence the ritual, ruckus or no. I will try, at that point, to coax them into taking just a little bit extra, and then urge them reasonably quickly to sleep. Therafter, the goal is to try to guesstimate just that time that they’ll be slightly stirring, rather than jumping the gun with our traditional 2:30 event, or letting them go too long and then wrangling with triple terror of the ravenous variety. Last night at this time, Pablo took 170 cc (close to 6 oz.), and he continues to terrify with his endless and agitated thirst for life. He is over 9 pounds now, and I forever hope he doesn’t eat his brothers. He had been going through a particularly fussy period, and I think the solution is it’s a growth spurt, and we need to really listen to him when he tells us he’s still hungry (by, among other things, wrapping his mouth around his shirt, brothers, appendages, or my nose). 

Now someone said “oooooh” and then coughed. And now silence. I apologize – especially to the smaller readers of this blog, for whom my words most likely offer limited entertainment at best – for no photo today. The camera’s here with some good stuff on it, but I can’t find that little transfer cable. I know it’s where I left it, and I know that’s some place dumb. Hopefully ’twill all be sorted by tomorrow. 

11:37. I’m still sitting here. I guess it’s possible Satchel has figured out how to speak in a gentle whisper that is beyond the monitor’s capacity, and that he may be organizing some crib mayhem as I write this, but I’ll give that small yellow man the benefit of the doubt. I know he’s glad to get his brother back, and to lie, kicking his two legs up and down in swaddled unison like some great beached fish, in celebration. 

That’s how I found him, actually, at 11:50 or so tonight, which now was 70 minutes ago. The boys came to life, and Satch was flapping to the music of his brothers, featuring Levi on percussive screams and Pablo on melodious farts. And though these boys have a bona fide track record as recording artists, I’ll ask you to trust me when I say there was no syncing going on here – this was as live a performance as you’re gonna find. 

The boys are down again, the night still – but for the flowing sounds of bubbling water, emitted from a small stuffed lamb that arrived in the mail recently, and reaching me via that same monitor that ushered in this blog entry. I will now go join my warm wife and cat in our chamber, and hope that we might sleep until maybe 3:45. Then we’ll see if big Al lets me off the hook for that one on account of time served. I am happy to have my family under one roof again, growing and healing. I’ll find that cord for you tomorrow, I promise.

January 25, 2009 at 1:13 am Leave a comment

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