What I Did on My Summer Vacation

This summer, I didn't make time to write about individual events as they happened. So, rather than overwhelm you with details, I will give you the summary, InterPlay style. In this InterPlay storytelling form, players take turns completing the phrase "I could tell you about...." Like this:

I could tell you about hiking in gorges and walking under waterfalls.

I could tell you about face painting, roller coasters, and cotton candy.

I could tell you about Highland Games and Renaissance Festivals.

I could tell you about taking the kids to Niagara Falls to meet their grandparents who were there for a brief stop as part of a bus tour. I would make sure to tell you about the way their ice cream treats melted all over their faces.

I could tell you about catching millipedes and slugs with butterfly nets. And how the slugs got out of the collecting jars.

I could tell you about enormous chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cones, vegetable gardens overflowing with produce, and picnics in beautiful places.

I could tell you about Patrick's excitement that he passed the swim test to swim in the deep end of the pool on his first day of Soccer Camp. Or about the fact that he was tall enough to ride all the rides by himself at the Trumansburg Fair.

I could tell you about Michael, William and Jocelyn taking their first swimming lessons. Or taking their first ferry ride. Or going on their first sailboat.

I could tell you about going to Stratford with Andy for a night away from the kids and watching Christopher Plummer as Prospero. Or about being allowed to sleep in as my mother took care of the kids for a while.

I could tell you about bruises, of splinters and bee stings. But I would much rather talk about fire truck rides, balloon toys and playgrounds, or swimming and sailing and sand-castle building. But mostly, I could tell you about adventure and fun that we shared with lots of friends and family.

It was a good summer.

On Bicycles

Teaching Patrick to ride a bicycle hasn't been easy. It is not a skill that has come naturally and Andy and I have been short of opportunities to teach him or even inspire him to practice.

For at least three years, we have been failing to help him master a tricycle or a bicycle (with or without training wheels). At some point, we decided pedaling, balancing, and steering was too much for him to figure out at once, so we gave up on the bike and got him a scooter. We had a summer of frustration with the scooter, too.

Then, this spring, his grandparents came to visit for two weeks and met him at the bus stop after school every day with the scooter. That was the magic. For two weeks, he scooted the block and a half home every day. Andy and I heard stories about his improvement, but he wouldn't show us.

After my parents left, I started walking to meet him at the school bus with the scooter and he improved rapidly. At the same time, we got scooters and balance bikes for the trio. Balance bikes are undersized bikes without pedals used for learning how to balance and steer. Once everybody had bikes and scooters, it became possible to hang out on the driveway every so often with everybody playing with whatever suited their fancy. Within a few weeks, Patrick had mastered the scooter.

For Patrick and the bicycle, the moment of magic was when a babysitter got him out on the driveway using an undersized bike as a balance bike. He was able to take the balance and steering he had learned on the scooter and transfer them to the balance bike. By regularly meeting him at the bus stop with the undersized bike, I gave him an opportunity to master the balance bike in small practice sessions.

In the past week, he spontaneously started trying to pedal the undersized bike but was unable to squeeze himself into a position to make it possible. At the same time, he has been unwilling to try the bigger bike.

Today, I took a risk and took the big bike instead of the undersized bike when we went to meet Patrick. At the bus stop, he complained he was not ready for the big bike yet, but got on anyway. After a few false starts, he managed to get himself pedaling. As he turned onto our street and got the extra momentum of a downward incline, he got it all together for a glorious 10 yards before braking hard. Beaming, he turned for me to acknowledge his success, which I did.

He still is a long way from just getting on his bike and riding, but it looks like this will be the summer Patrick learns to ride a bike.

Pansies from Patrick - A Mother's Day Story

There are moments that make the hard work of motherhood worthwhile. Sometimes they are subtle and hard to describe. Not this week. For the first time, prompted only by an opportunity at school, Patrick arranged a Mother's Day gift for me without any help from his father.

We began giving Patrick an allowance this year to teach him about money and money management. So far, most of the lessons have been in the form of "If you don't put your money somewhere safe, you lose it." He has started to pay attention to the cost of things he would like to buy and to ask for credit from his parents if he wants something and hasn't brought any money with him.

From time to time, things are sold at school during the day: a popcorn fundraiser, a Scholastic book fair, a bake sale on Valentine's Day, etc. During the course of this year, there has been a transition from Patrick asking for money for such sales to his choosing to take money from his piggy bank.

Last Thursday, he showed me some money as he was leaving for school and said he was taking it to school to buy flowers. I had no idea what he was talking about. He was short of time, so I merely reminded him to keep it somewhere safe as he rushed out the door with Andy heading for the bus stop. He came off the bus that afternoon holding two pansies, which he presented to me for Mother's Day. I beamed at him and thanked him as richly as I could while keeping my eye on his siblings, who were bolting in different directions.

One of the flowers hit its peak during the day on Thursday and was wilting slightly by Friday morning. Patrick became worried that it wouldn't last until Mother's Day.

When I met Patrick at the bus stop on Friday, he presented me with a third pansy, saying "In case the other one loses it's flowers before Sunday." Once again, I thanked him less fully than I might have liked due to the chaos on the street corner.

Yesterday morning, I took a quiet moment in the kitchen while Patrick was with me to confirm that he had not involved Andy in the pansy purchasing and let myself show him my pride and joy at what a generous boy he was. This is the first time that he has planned in advance to buy something for somebody else with his money. I am moved by the sweetness of his gesture and look forward to enjoying the pansies in the front garden this summer. I have no doubt that I will smile every time I notice them, thinking of the sweet young boy who gave them to me. My son.

Birthday Reflections

William, Michael and Jocelyn had their third birthday this week. They have easily grasped the fact that now they are 3 instead of 2. They have absorbed the key elements of the North American birthday ritual. Cake and candles and the birthday song were all expected. Cards and presents seemed like an extra bonus. By next year, I expect they will be asking for specific presents. Actual celebrations have been spread out: an extended family gathering last weekend, just the 6 of us on the actual day, and a small party with friends this weekend. Spreading gifts out is wonderful, and they eat so little junk food that I don't mind overdoing the birthday sweets a little.

They have been asked to give up their daytime comfort blankets. This is a big transition for them, but it has gone well so far. The goal is to get the nighttime blankets out soon, too. I would generally let them give up comfort objects when they felt ready, but they suck on the blankets in a way that encourages poor jaw positioning and pushes their teeth out of shape. I would prefer to find alternatives to the blanket now than guarantee the need for braces later.

3 and 4 were such challenging ages with Patrick that I find myself worrying about what the next year will bring rather than celebrating having survived the past 3 years. The intense power struggles have begun. Patrick is finding it challenging to have three more intense personalities in the house with opinions. Until they were making their opinions known with words, he found that he could easily get his way. Now that they are learning to negotiate, he is being pushed to develop his sharing and negotiating skills. It can only be good in the long run.

With the warmer weather upon us, we have been practicing getting out and about without extra adults. Meeting Patrick at his bus stop has become a 30 minute daily adventure. Jocelyn, Michael, William and I walk the block and half to the bus stop and then wait for 5-10 minutes for the bus to arrive. We are developing games to play safely at the street corner and sometimes enjoy a snack. I bring Patrick's helmet and scooter. When Patrick meets us, we go and get the mail. Our mail box is as far away from our house as Patrick's bus stop but on the opposite side of the house. We have a several block loop that Patrick scoots and the others run and walk with me. We have to practice crossing the street safely and waiting for the others to catch up. It doesn't always work smoothly, but it does always work out. It is good to get the outdoor time every day and I am building the confidence I need to start taking all of the kids on bigger walks by myself.

Patrick's skill on the scooter is improving fast. The next challenge is teaching the little ones to use their scooters safely. It's going to be a whole new adventure when we can take all the kids out on their scooters together.

After Overhearing Other Parents's Conversations

I don't have a lot of conversations with other parents at school pick-up and drop off these days. I am generally too busy trying to keep track of three two-year olds playing in an area that is not separated from the parking lot. But, I overhear the other parents talking. Today, the conversation was about plans for next year and which of the kids would be at the school in the fall. It is a small private nursery school and kindergarten. Some of the kids leave at 4 to go to junior kindergarten (J.K.), while others stay until they go to other schools for grade 1.

I heard one mother say, "He'll be in J.K. next year at the same school as his older brother. It'll be so nice just to have one place to drop them both." There was a collective audible but nonverbal response of agreement that it would be a relief. I found myself wondering if I will ever drop all my kids off at one school. Assuming that we stay where we are and things progress as expected, I will get one year with that convenience.

Next year, Patrick will be in grade 2 at his current school and Jocelyn, William and Michael will start the Casa program at a local private Montessori school. The following year, everybody will stay at the same schools unless we can't afford another year of Montessori, in which case the three little ones will do public kindergarten at our local school, which isn't where Patrick goes.

When Patrick hits grade 4, he is expected to go to a third school in our local public district for the congregated gifted program, while his siblings finish the Casa program, assuming the money is there.

When Patrick gets to grade 5, Jocelyn, William, and Michael will start at Patrick's current school, where they will presumably stay until grade 4.

When Michael, Jocelyn and William hit grade 4, I expect they will follow Patrick to the congregated gifted program, where Patrick will be doing his final year before moving on to high school and for one year, they will be together: the oldest and youngest kids in the program.

Patrick will finish high school the spring before his siblings start.

Of course, if not all the kids get into the gifted program, I won't even get that one year with all the kids in one school. I know this has more to do with the age gap between my kids than the number of them. It just strikes me as another way in which the family I dreamed of would have been easier than the family I ended up with. But, such is life.

Moments of Method, Moments of Madness

The intensity of toddlerhood is magnified with multiples. If things are working, they are wonderful. But the meltdowns are spectacular.

William, Michael and Jocelyn have been developing the ability to play independently, together and with Patrick, in ways that require me to engage infrequently. This is a wonderful development. Of course, fights and disagreements arise and I have to help them sort things out. But, often, I can do something else that needs to be done while listening for screams and attending to the needs of those who seek me out for attention.

We have reached a new level of being able to take turns and play structured games together. In January, my parents and I introduced the triplets to board games, starting with Candyland. The first time we played, each child had an adult to help them, and this eased the learning process. Now, as long as I am highly engaged, we can play with just one adult. I need to lead with a heavy hand, telling everybody whose turn it is, reminding them where to put their cards, helping them take their turns and move their pieces, keeping track of whose turn it is as they wander away from the board and come back, etc. But it works, and they keep asking to play it again. Recently, I introduced them to a memory game involving turning over cards to find pairs. Once again, by leading firmly, I was able to manage the game with all four children in such a way that they had fun.

Reading a book together has become a wonderful family bonding experience. When I sit on the sofa with a book to read and the four children gather around to listen, there is usually some jostling into position before things get started, but then I often read three or four books in a row before people get restless.

If only one person wants a story and the others are off doing their own things, it is a different experience all together. Yesterday, for instance, I had one tired child who wanted to snuggle and read a story. He found a book and climbed into my lap with his blankie to cuddle and I started reading. I had to interrupt what could have been a 5-7 minute long story for 2 trips to the washroom, including cleaning up one potty accident; one fall; one tussle over toys; and a spilled drink. By the time I finished reading the story, all four children had cried, shouted, or been disciplined and I was mentally scattered.

When the weather is warm, I am now able to walk with Michael, William and Jocelyn to the bus stop to meet Patrick after school. This is a new development and I am still wary of taking them very far for a walk. When things go well, it feels quite easy, but it only takes one child who doesn't want to follow the plan for it to become dangerous. With one toddler, I could just pick him up and carry him when he became unwilling to behave safely. With three, it just isn't possible.

Living with the daily chaos, I don't always notice how much the kids are growing up. But, we are not the same as we were in the fall. I still feel overwhelmed by how much the little ones cannot yet do for themselves, but they are able to do more all the time. Each self-care skill the kids acquire makes it easier for me to enjoy these wonderful children rather than be overwhelmed by how much work I have to do.

Why the Break in Blog Posts

It has been months since I found time to articulate my thoughts enough to post an update. I apologize to those of you who want updates and don't get them any other way.

December was busy getting ready for the holidays, which pounced on me with less warning than usual, or at least it seemed that way. I was in rehearsal for a play that would be in performance in late January. Dangerous Obsession is a three person cast, and I was onstage for the whole show, so there was no sitting around the theatre during rehearsal to learn my lines or do anything other than rehearse.

Shortly before Christmas, a beloved aunt of mine was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had surgery, which put an emotional strain on the whole family. By the end of January, it was clear that she was deteriorating rapidly and would not survive for long. The family came together as often as possible, rallying around her and each other to celebrate her life and ease her death to the extent we could. When she died, I personally experienced that awful mix of emotions that include devastation at her loss and relief that her suffering was over.

Parenting through grief is challenging. Patrick knew and loved Karen and understood what was happening. The triplets were oblivious. The energy of young children who were thrilled to be visiting their grandparents often, as we did during February, distracted the adults somewhat from our grief, which was a welcome relief. However, alone with the children at home, I have found it a struggle to by buoyed up by their enthusiasm and not weighted down with the challenges of providing a warm home for 4 children who need me so fully all the time.

At the same time, Andy is in rehearsal for a play – a much needed and much deserved project for him – and is extremely busy at work. He has been a tremendous support through my loss, but he needs support through his busy time, now.

The last few months have been a time where my self care needs have required a lot of retreating into myself. And, this internal retreat is the main reason for my lack of updates.