Once a week, Mike helps me sort and put the mountainous piles of clean laundry away. I don’t want to give him TOO much undue credit so I shall point out he mainly puts away the towels and shoves his clean shirts into the top of his half of the closet. But, he does help me put some of the laundry away and keeps me from laundry induced panic. Inevitably, when we are working together to accomplish this task, the kids attack. Both parents are distracted? Working? Score! Yesterday, one of them snuck into the pantry, tore open packets of instant oatmeal and redecorated the carpet with oats. Once, they got into the refrigerator, cracked eggs on the window sill and watched them drip onto the carpet. They can’t do this anymore because we put PADLOCKS ON THE FRIDGE. Now, if I want milk for my coffee, I have to turn the combination lock that mysteriously malfunctions for me and the oldest but never for my husband. I thought I was done with combination locks when I graduated from high school but now I get to relive the frustration of twisty locks to eat. But, now we can put laundry away without screaming at them to get out of the fridge. Whatever works. Plus, I’m drinking my coffee black again and that saves a few calories, right?

Last month, we were putting laundry away together in the little boys’ room when Jack wandered in with a small plastic box that I instantly recognized as the container for my quite expensive and newly replaced NTI device* aka the splint that I use to keep myself from grinding my teeth in my sleep. This tiny device is only about 3 inches x 3 inches and requires my dentist to cast a mold of my teeth and send out for it to be custom created for my poor, worn down teeth.  I get headaches, over-sensitive teeth and spasms in my neck/jaw if I don’t wear it so I caved and bought another one with our tax refund when the previous one disappeared from my night stand.

I had the new device for one week when I saw Jack very carefully holding its box and sipping orange juice (this was pre-fridge locks) out of it. He has a thing for drinking out of containers that aren’t cups. I screamed when I saw he was carrying the box because I knew that meant he had messed with the splint. Mike had no idea why I was screaming until I pointed and whined, “That’s my splint box! He got it out of my medicine cabinet (it was the only non-childproof locked thing in the cabinet)”. Mike uttered, “Oh, I wondered what that was, I saw him take it out of our bedroom.” My head exploded all over the boy’s room. I’m still trying to find bits of my brain but I think they are gone for good.

We searched for hours and never found the splint. We questioned Jack who did not seem to understand what we were talking about. We begged the triplets to tell us where this thing was and they stared at us blankly and brought us shoes, books or whatever else they could find.  Eventually, we gave up.  I’ve been grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw in my sleep which inevitably brings on migraines and makes me generally more anxious.

Yesterday, we were putting laundry away when Mike took a break and needed the car keys. I told him they were on the window sill and admitted that I hadn’t put them back on the hooks he hung specifically for the keys because my hands were full when I came in. The keys were gone. Dammit. We searched the house and quizzed the suddenly mute triplets. How come they won’t stop talking until we actually need information from them? Mike gave up but I continued looking in the little boys’ room. He walked in to tell me I wasn’t going to find the keys in there when I picked up a blanket. He stopped talking and pointed at the keys laying at my feet. Ha. Keys found, he left for the gas station (probably on a taquito run. he eats more gas station food than anyone else on earth.) and I kept organizing the room. In almost the same spot I found they keys, I looked down and noticed… my splint. I think it was in a blanket I was folding but there it was next to my feet.

A few minutes later, he returned from the gas station (the 7-11 cashiers ask to see pictures of the kids. that is how often he is at the gas station) and I ran to meet him and yelled, “Guess what I found?” and he guessed. And there was much rejoicing. Immediately after, he hung a small wooden shelf next to the ceiling for my splint. It now has its own shelf and the kids shouldn’t be able to reach it. I wore it last night and damn if I don’t feel better.

Relatives come to town and tell us the triplets need to “learn the word no” or “learn how to eat in restaurants**” or tell us how we will get these three very smart, active, curious three year olds how to behave and not do things like take my splint or get into the refrigerator. Others scoff at us putting combination locks on the fridge or turning the boys’ bedroom lock around so they can’t get out at night. “They should know better! Spank them!” They will know better, spanking has very little effect on their behavior and we don’t want to scream at them all day. We try to use positive discipline and a program called Parenting with Love and Logic as often as possible but we’re not perfect. We work with them but sometimes we resort to locks, begging, crying (that would be ME begging and crying as opposed to them who did it all the time),time-outs occasional spankings, and not always caring that the house is a mess. I don’t want to follow the kids around watching their every move or care so much about material things that I constantly worry the carpet will get stained. The kids are well adjusted and mostly developmentally approproriate but more importantly, they are happy most of the time. We’re surviving, they’re thriving and one day they will eat in restaurants without wanting to get up and look around. The locks will come off and the regular parenting threats will work to curb their misadventures. Until then, lockdown.

* I first learned about the magic NTI Device from Angela at Fluid Pudding. I asked my dentist about it and he was very enthusiastic about trying it. I have had TMJ/jaw problems since I was a teenager and am a horrible teeth grinder. I even had my right jaw joint surgically repaired when I was in my early 20′s because it was so torn up. TMJ treatment is often excluded from insurance policies (grrr) and I had to fight to have my surgery paid for by my medical insurance. I have to pay for devices that keep me from damaging my teeth and causing more muscle problems. Oh and I am fairly sure my childhood dentist caused some of my jaw problems when he too-forcefully extracted 8 of my baby teeth and 2 more permanent teet. The orthodontist who didn’t fully correct my bite caused other problems as well. I’m sure my parents loved paying thousands of dollars for them to mess up my jaw. But, who knows, maybe my bite/jaw always would have been screwed up and I’m unnecessarily blaming the dental professionals. /tangent

** One of the triplet’s speech therapists told me not to expect a three year old to sit at a table to eat for more than 15 minutes at a time. We’ve changed our home meals around so the little kids aren’t expected to sit for longer than the 15 allotted minutes and it has made dinner time much easier. Restaurant meals take longer and honestly, we don’t like to go out to eat with them at this age. 15 minute meals work well for us.

dammit blog, i needed you earlier this week and you were nowhere to be found. something about nameservers needing to be updated that i updated then the site was still mysteriously gone after propagation of the species or some stupid b.s. and now, now that i don’t have time to update properly, it is back. how’s that for a run on sentence?

i have no time so i will update with bullets (or rather segments because my css layout mysteriously deletes bullets when i publish posts. don’t ever start a blog. it is a pain in the ass and the word blog is as bad as the word swatch. if you really want to start a blog, do it like the brilliant mimi smartypants who has an awesome penguin layout still on diaryland and doesn’t mess around.)

my mother’s day was splendid. my son’s third grade teacher openly mocked copywrite laws by making the students’ moms mix-cd’s of their favorite happy songs. one day last week, my son came home from school and not-so-subtly asked me, “Mom, what song do you listen to that makes you smile? No reason. Oh, and can I have a blank CD?” i am an enormous music lover which, isn’t everyone? i mean, have you met anyone that hates music? regardless, i love music of varying styles and it is hard for me to pick one song representative of my happiness but “Blackbird” by The Beatles popped into my head. mike can sort of play it on the guitar in an amalgamation of the other 10 songs he can play OVER AND OVER AGAIN (i love it. really. even though every time he starts playing his same sorta mixture of songs i leave the room.) and i can still listen to The Beatles everyday and not get completely sick of them. the only bad thing about “Blackbird” is that it reminds me of the epidosde of ER where Susan’s degenerate sister gives birth as the song plays. then again, i like ER so maybe it isn’t such a bad thing. susan’s sister was annoying though.  anyway, “Blackbird” was my selection in a schizophrenic mix CD that included Deee-Lite’s “Groove is in the Heart” and Journey’s “Open Arms” along side The Grateful Dead’s “Sugar Magnolia” and Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” (The little boys LOVE Single Ladies. It is hilarious).

mother’s day morning, we had an hour long dance party to the magical mix CD.

i couldn’t have asked for a better gift (except maybe a free beach vacation) but i got a few more presents. mike bought me a beautiful blue hydrangea* for our new backyard garden that i’ve wanted for years and a starbucks gift card because i’m hopelessly addicted to espresso. we visited my mom and grandma, ate ribs prepared in a multi-step process of smoking, grilling, saucing, and random other preparation methods by my dad. it was a perfect day.

my time is up and lily just told me ethan is on the front porch without pants so i will write more about my crazy week when i get a second.

*did you know some hydrangeas will turn pink or blue based on the acidity of the soil they are planted in? now you do. the more you know (rainbow).

It has been a big week in our house. For the first time since January, 2006, Lily isn’t sleeping in the living room. After hours of work, ventures to the hardware store and kid distracting missions, we’ve moved the oldest into a new room in the basement and our daughter into a very pink, princess laden room. It turns out when you let three year olds pick out their room decor, it looks like Disney exploded.

When Lily came home from the NICU at six months old, she moved in with a ventilator, oxygen concentrator, feeding pump, nebulizer and a slew of other medical equipment. In addition to her equipment, we had 18 hours of home health care nurses in shifts to manage her many beeping machines. Jack and Ethan were still tiny and needed their own room away from the beeping machines so we moved Lil’s crib out of the intended triplet room and into the living room. I was disappointed that my baby girl, my only daughter, didn’t have the perfect girl’s room but so many things about her early days were atypical and scary that, like with everything else, I dealt with it.

For three years, she has slept in the living room. She never figured out how to climb out of her crib (her brothers figured it out at 9 and 12 months) so it stayed out there behind the couch sandwiched between medical equipment. However, a few months ago she got sick again and when she returned from the hospital, we started caring for her while she slept on the couch. She never went back into the crib. Developmentally, she was ready to be out of her crib and it was easier to administer her tube feedings and breathing treatments while she slept on the couch so there she stayed.

It wasn’t easy on Mike and I to have our baby girl living on the couch and not in the room she deserved. It was embarrassing to us not to have our kids in their rooms and it made our living arrangements more difficult. We planned with the oldest and Lily how we would move them around and the best way to accommodate everyone. Our oldest was excited to have his own room downstairs but nervous to move from across the hall. Mike pulled him into the project and they excitedly built the room together. It took months to find the time to finish the room after Mike got home from work and on the few weekend hours that weren’t taken up with family time. Last weekend, we moved him into his new room and moved on to his sister’s area.

My husband worked like a man possessed and finished our girl’s room in one weekend. It is pink and the “bed in a bag” that her daddy let her pick out is stamped with Disney Princesses. It isn’t exactly what I envisioned but it is perfect. Lily is enormously excited about having her own space and we let her pick out her own shade of pink paint for the walls in addition to the aformentioned princess accessories. She tells everyone about her princess room and seems to sleep more comfortably in her own bed (and looks tiny on the big pillow). Say what you will about the Disney Princess Industrial Complex but it made one little girl happy.

It has taken us a long time to get to this point and it feels good to have everyone in their place.