snow angels

i know i am

leaving

the

snow.


i am leaving 50

fingers, 50

toes,

5

smiles.



i am leaving

what comes out of

small

mouths. 



the way their heads

turn

when i walk

in.


the way their eyes

are.

their hands,

their

hands.



the things i will suddenly

remember in the

night,

when i can't

sleep or the snow falls

up north,

alone, without me there

to

catch

it.




the kind of things i would

write to them 

in the

snow.



if i

could.

the Easter garage

abby and the kids and i (eli was sick) went to my parents' house today to have a little pre-Easter celebration. and guess what the hit of the day was?

no, not the Easter egg hunt (though they loved it).

no, not the Easter cookies and treats (though they loved them).

no, not the pbj sandwiches which grandma and grandpa made them - instead of some kind of fussy, uptight glazed ham.

no, what they loved the most was.......(wait for it).......

grandma and grandpa's garage. their garage!



first of all, my parents' garage, with a door to the inside and a door to the outside, creates an irresistable circular running course. you can either run from the garage to the outside, through the garden, into the condo, and back into the garage OR you can really mix it up and run from the garage into the inside, out through the garden, and around into the garage again. either way, this is more fun than should be legal. (and, with the shrieking volume what it was, it's probably wasn't.)

the other thing is, these children have never seen a garage this clean. this airy. with this much room to move. only my parents would have a garage that looks like all it needs is a comforter and it could be a 4th bedroom. (which, sidebar here, my mom told me that she and my dad asked their cleaning lady if she would be willing to clean their garage - for extra pay, of course. and the cleaning lady said, sure, she's never had anyone ask her if she would clean their garage before but, what the heck, sure.....i'll clean it. and i said to my mom, i said, "mom, what on EARTH is there to clean in your garage? we could have a WEDDING in that garage!" and my mom said, well, i know.......but it's not perfect. and i said, mom, no wonder i'm screwed up. i have a mom who wants a perfect garage. and she said, just imagine how much more screwed up you'd be if you DIDN'T have a mom who wants a perfect garage. and.......i gotta admit......i had to stop and think about that one.)

but, anyway......the kids loved the garage. and every now and then, i'd hear my mom saying to my dad, "i hope there's nothing out in that garage that can hurt them," and my dad would say, "nah. just a circular saw or two." and my mom would say, "well, as long as they're clean."

:) 

gearing up

i will be taking care of the triplets this weekend. the whole weekend. by. my. self. it's like the night before you have to catch a plane in the morning - you can't sleep cuz you're worried you'll sleep. you keep going over and over in your mind all the things you have to do to get there on time.

i have rehearsed this weekend in my mind so many times that truthfully, i think we can skip it. i've already done it. abby and eli? you don't need to go to chicago after all. 

the twins will be spending the weekend with a babysitter, so that leaves me with "just" the triplets which, truthfully, really is "just." those babies are so mild-mannered and so laid back and generally so happy that it's pretty much cake taking care of them. 

but even a good baker needs to practice.

and so, in preparation for this weekend, i have been "working out." going through drills. putting myself through the paces.  mental paces, i mean, not  physical ones.

oh, damn! turn the car around, we have to go back. i forgot the physical paces!

"i'm not gonna."

i asked abby the other day whether or not she had given any thought to how she was gonna do toilet training with the triplets, and she said yeah. and i said what. and she said, "i'm not gonna."

and i said......."what?" and she said, "i'm not gonna."

and, what happened next is why abby thinks i'm a good mom......i listened.

and, what happened after that is why i think abby's a good mom.....she made sense.

she said that toilet training with the twins, as i full well knew, had hardly been the proverbial stroll through the park. and she said that in thinking of repeating any of that with the triplets was more than she - or eli - could bear. so......they were leaning towards a laissez-faire approach this time around.

she went on to explain that, when the time came, she and eli would put the potty chair out and then they'd tell jack and luke and wendy what it's for and they'd see the rest of the famly using the toilet and  beyond that, they wouldn't do too much more than diddly squat. which is kind of a pun. 

she said that they aren't gonna engage in a contest of wills. no sticker charts, no stupid "poopy parties" which some frazzled but horribly misguided parents do. no taking them to the bathroom every however many minutes just so they can "try." none of that. none of the conventional - and even not-so-conventional -  stuff. they're just gonna let it ride.

at first, i was skeptical. taken aback. eager to argue. (me? eager to argue?) but then, it made sense. it made perfect sense. "it'll happen when it happens. no sense gettin' the whole family all upset over it."

besides, i used to always tell david, back when we were "training " abby and he was more eager to get the show on the road than i was.....i used to say, "relax. how many kids do you know who go to school in diapers? somewhere along the way, that behavior drops out of their repertoire."

and david used to say, "yeah, well. why do you think it drops out in the first place? huh?"

well.........david? abby's about to show you why.

:)

please give abby a trophy

blah, blah, blah, twins and triplets are such a blessing and yes, they are. they are also some of the hardest, most relentless work you will ever do.

eli can get away from it. he goes to work. not that eli's work isn't hard and not that i even totally understand what eli's work is, but whatever it is, it isn't as hard as abby's. sorry, eli, it's just not.


last night, we all went out to dinner in celebration of my dad's 85th birthday (God love his little sweet soul) and truth be told, i don't think abby enjoyed a single second of it. it was just work, work, work for her. not that eli didn't help - he did - but, well, the moms always end up with the lion's share of it. they just do. (not that i think there's anything wrong with that, by the way. i think that's the way it should be. don't get me started.)


so, anyway, abby works hard. she works harder than i do, she works harder than eli does, and unless you are the stay-at-home mother of 3-and a half-year old twins and 10-month old triplets, she works harder than you do, too.


so i want to give her a trophy. 


but a trophy will either get broken by the kids or it'll collect dust.


so, i think i have a better idea......


abby? eli? i'm gonna save my money to send you somewhere special. abby gets to pick. it can be paris, it can be frisco, it can be timbuktu. obviously, the more extravagant the trip, the longer it's gonna take me to save, but it's abby's choice. if you pick tokyo, tell me NOW, cuz i'll make boiled water for my lunch.  :)


i will take care of the kids while you're gone. it will be my problem to figure out how. i can be resourceful when i have to be. i'll drum up support. i'll find help. i can make it work.


now, shoo! 

the unbearable sweetness of 3-year olds

the twins are at a wonderful age. 3-and-a-half sure beats 16-and-a-half any day.

they truly are almost unbearably adorable. everything they think, everything they say, and even most of everything they do is worth cataloging.

i am told on almost a non-stop basis that i am loved, and they don't always use their eyes when they say it. sometimes - a lot of times - they use their words.

speaking of words (that's funny - speaking of words), these are the two that i hear the most from olivia: "watch me!" 

"watch me!" is almost always followed by some sort of acrobatic or dance gyration that almost always includes me seeing her underwear. 


charlie's two favorite words when i'm around are, "hey, gam....." and he says it kinda like how beaver cleaver used to say it to wally......."hey, waaaaally......"


charlie's a boy and olivia's a girl. no, i mean, seriously. you don't have to pull down their pants to know. charlie is all zoom, zoom, zoom and olivia is all, well, olivia is all "watch me!" as she twirls and spins in ballerina dresses and everything pink.


but charlie's a little bit girl, too. like when he puts his arms around my neck and nuzzles me. if he's just eaten peanut butter, it's even better.


and olivia? well, i guess she's a little bit boy. last night she told me that when she and charlie grow up and charlie's a farmer (his newest craze) that she's gonna be a tractor. so there ya go.

but don't go too fast. don't let it zoom, zoom, zoom past me in a blue-pink blur.


well, too late. it already is.

how they just do it

everyone, including me, wants to know how abby and eli manage 2 sets of multiples aged 3 and under. 

beats me.

i watch them do it and i still don't know the answer to the question how.

they make it sound like it's no big deal. if you ask them how they do it, they'll shrug and vaguely toss around words like "organization." usually what they say is, "we just do."

but the thing about "we just do" is that they say it like they don't have any other choice when, in reality, they do.  they could neglect these kids. or at least some of them. they could. but they choose not to. they choose to "just do it" as opposed to "just don't do it."

"just do it" is basically what Christ was trying to say. just do the other-centered thing, not the me-centered thing.

(when nike says it, they don't mean it quite the same way.)

dinner for 12 in a space that can barely accomodate it

extremely fun times last night, but wow......do we ever create a commotion wherever we go. and by we, i mean abby, eli, charlie, olivia, jack, luke, wendy, mom, dad, my niece, lauren, her boyrfriend, jason, and me. and the triple stroller. and the diaper bag.

lauren and jason were in town from chicago, visiting my parents, and the whole motley crew of us got together last night for dinner at a restaurant about a half-block from my place. because there was no room at my place for a mob like that. nor, really, was there room at the restaurant for a mob like that. 


(there is no restaurant on the face of the earth for a mob like that.)


but the "columbus brewing company" was especially tricky. not that i didn't know it - i mean, come on, the restaurant is a half-block from my house. i've been there a million times. but never with a motley crew.


first of all, CBC, as it is more commonly known, has zero waiting room. zero.  zee-roe. so, picture that.


second, CBC is a small restaurant. not tiny, but small.


third, the tables at CBC are pretty smushed together. maybe someone ought to call the fire marshall.


fourth.......well........isn't three enough?


so, there we were, on top of everyone's laps, breathing down everyone's entrees, and schlepping ourselves to the back of the restaurant (and then, at the end, back up to the front) and several remarkable things happened. actually, one remarkable thing happened:


no one complained.


the other patrons were, if not doting (and many of them were), at least cordial. and accomodating. i have never seen so much scooting of chairs in my life.


abby and eli were their usual "ha ha, this is how we roll, ain't it fun" selves.


lauren and jason, who live independent, childless, upwardly mobile lives in chicago, jumped into the fray like it was their job. which, actually, it was.....we pawned the kids off on them so the rest of us could eat.  :)


mom and dad were their usual "do we have the best daughter and grand kids and son-in-law and granddaughter's boyfriend and great-grandchildren in the whole wide world or what" selves.


and i sorta looked around and thought.....


yes, mom and dad. yes.


we do.

the mother of mothers

abby amazes me. 

if you were the mother of 3-year old twins and 7-month old triplets, would you spend their blessed nap times going through all of their outgrown clothing, toys, equipment, etc., organize it all into separate bins, label each item for sale, haul the whole shebang downtown to vets memorial for the annual "mother of twins club" sale, schlep it all from the van into the building, set it all up, go home and feed your kids, come back to the sale a few hours later, with your husband in tow, whose job it is to work the sale while you now shop it - without benefit of shopping cart or anything else (how you carry all of this stuff is your problem) - then go home late at night and collapse - and then come back the next day and tear it all down? and haul back home whatever didn't sell?  

and then say, "that was pretty easy."


neither would i.

what the heck is so wrong about the word "foreign?"

good grief.


the word "foreign" is on the no-fly list which, right there, is ab-surd because how can you visit a foreign country if you can't fly to it?

the reason the word "foreign" is no longer A-O.K. is the same reason that everything is no longer A-O.K...........somebody got "offended."

the reason somebody got offended is because a.) somebody has too much time on his hands and b.) somebody doesn't understand the definition of the word "foreign."

the word "foreign" means another country other than the one under consideration. in other words, back before the world lost its mind, if you were an american and you needed a "foreign" language credit to get into college, you took french. well, now you have to take "the language of the country, france, which is other than the one under consideration, i.e. the united states." because if you don't, somebody's gonna get offended.


and it might be the germans. because why are you, little miss prissy from the high and mighty united states, taking the language of the country, france, which is other than the one under consideration, i.e. the united states, instead of taking the language of the country, germany, which would also be other than the one under consideration, i.e. the united states? because france gets all the glory, that's why.


but anyway. i was reminded of the ban on the word "foreign" when i had lunch yesterday at a turkish restaurant and everyone in there, except for abby, eli, my parents, the twins, the triplets, and me was, ahem, "foreign."


the table behind us was some sort of asian which, i know, how insensitive of me to refer to them as "some sort of asian."


the table behind us on the other side was some sort of scandinavian. i know, i know.


a coupla tables away were some folks who appeared to be and sounded to be mexican.


and our waitress was russian.


and would. you. be.- lieve.........not a single one of them........not a one!.........remarked about all the kids we were schlepping around with us. everyone..........no matter where we go........oohs and ahhs over the triplets and then when they find out that these two right here are twins, they just about pass out. but none of these folks did. none of these folks from countries other than the one under consideration even batted an eye. they were all so wrapped up in their own little conversations in their own little languages other than the one under consideration that they couldn't even bother to say hello.


or hola.


or whatever the hell it is that foreigners say.

do YOU have a nose for news?

schlepping triplets around town sure does draw attention. and then, when they realize that those two over there - that boy and that girl - when they realize that they're twins.......well........the paparazzi is everywhere.

actually, the paparazzi isn't anywhere. even when it's there it's not there.

take a couple of weeks ago, for instance.

a couple of weeks ago, abby and i took the twins and the triplets to lunch at a restaurant in the mall. seated next to us was the local anchorman for the evening news on one of the major networks. next to him was his wife.

his wife kept glancing our way and smiling and we kept glancing their way and smiling.....abby, is that cabot rea from channel 4? i don't think so/i think so/i don't think so/i think  so/who knows.

pretty soon, over to our table comes cabot rea's wife.

"are they triplets?" she asked.

"is it cabot rea?" i asked.

"yes," said abby.

"yes," said mrs. rea.

"they're beautiful!" breathed mrs. rea.

"he's thinner than he looks on t.v." i said. (ok.....so i didn't say it. but it sounds funnier if i said i did.)

"and those two right there.....ohmygosh, they're darling! how old are they?"

"they're 3," one of us said.

"both of them are 3?"

"yep. both of 'em. they're twins."

"OHMYGOSH! cabot! they have triplets and twins!"


so, cabot strolls over and smiles and oohs and aahs and does all the things we've come to expect of people when they find out that we have triplets and twins.

but he didn't  do any of the things we would expect a news anchor to do. he didn't see news when he saw it.

he didn't say, wait a minute, this would make a wonderful human interest story. would you guys mind?

he didn't say, my camera crew is right across the street, lemme call 'em.

he didn't say, our ratings are slipping lately and we need something that could go viral. you mind?


nope. he didn't do any of that. what he did was, he did what most husbands do when their wives are oohing and aahing over babies. he oohed and aahed, too, to keep peace in the house, and then he took his wife's arm and ushered her out of the restaurant. which totally ticked me off.

i hope mrs. rea made him hold her purse while she tried on every pair of shoes in the mall.

my underwear

sorry, men, it's not that kind of post.


last week, while i was helping abby with the kids, olivia came into the bathroom as i was, um, going. (olivia often does this. olivia is very curious about all things potty, including whether or not i have a penis. practically every single time i go to the bathroom, olivia wants to know if i have a penis. i always tell her no (refraining from saying, "thank God!) and she, in reply, always says, "you have a 'gina?" and i always reassure her that, yes, my girl parts are still there.)

freud would love olivia.


anyway, olivia came into the bathroom just as i was zipping up my jeans and she noticed that my underwear were white. plain white.

this just wouldn't do.

olivia's underwear have ballerinas on them (brings a touch of class to the whole subject) and butterflies on them and hearts and stars and dora the explorer. personally, i think there should be a limit to what dora tries to explore.

anyway.......

so, olivia comes into the bathroom just as i am zipping up my jeans and she notices that my underwear are white and she asks me, simply, "why?"

"well," i said, "i guess i don't know. most of my underwear is white."

"i have ballerinas on my underwear," she boasted.

"i know you do, sweetie. and i love your underwear. but grammy just wears plain old white underwear."

you should have seen her face. it was some kind of combination of sadness and bewilderment. not to mention a boatload of disapproval.

"well, gram," she said, "you wanna wear some of my underwear?" she offered.

"oh, liv, that's very nice of you, sweetie......but i don't think your underwear would fit gram."

she eyed my bum and said,

"no. i guess you're right."



anyway......today i am helping out with the kids again and i am wearing an old pair of pink and blue flowered panties that i found in the back of my drawer, so i think olivia will approve.


now. if she'll just please not ask me that penis question.

happy new year, eli's mom

eli's mom, debbie, and i co-babysat the twins and the triplets last night. i hope we get to do it again next year - and many years after that - because it was the perfect way to spend that one night of the year that nobody is quite sure how to spend.

for those of you who don't know debbie, let me say this: picture einstein morphed into kathy griffin morphed into the dali lama morphed into mother teresa morphed into roseanne morphed into mother-of-the-year . that's more or less debbie.

i'm not sure which of those personas she was last night - definitely not einstein - when the babies started crying and i suggested that we feed them.

"do they eat?" she asked. perfectly seriously.


after we picked our hysterically cracking up selves up off the floor, we fed them.


(those poor babies........thank God they hadn't a clue.)

:)

Christmas - and everything - with 5 grandchildren

50 fingers and 50

toes

who knows

who does such wondrous things but


God?

how they do it

since abby and eli don't seem to be writing the book, i guess i will. well, the blog - i'll write the blog:

those two, as i have said before, are amazing. once you see them in action with twins and triplets, you need never again doubt the existence of God. if His hand isn't in the middle of all this, i don't know whose is.

examples:

• they turn down the covers for the twins prior to nap and prior to bedtime. they light a little light and close the curtains/blinds so that when the twins walk into their rooms, it is a cozy oasis just begging for someone to snuggle into and fall asleep. if you can walk into those rooms and stay awake, there's something wrong with you. and melatonin's probably not gonna fix it.
• everything is laid out where it's supposed to be. not where it's not supposed to be.......where it's supposed to be.
• the house is lovingly and beautifully decorated for Christmas.
• the twins' playroom has switched over from thanksgiving to Christmas and the books and play materials reflect that.
• charlie had an accident the other day - the bad kind - and his dad helped him clean up. nothing too surprising about that, but dad also sang a boisterous, funny, making-it-up-as-he-went-along song about "never gonna have a b.m. in my pants again, old chum!"
• each day, there is another Christmas surprise tucked somewhere in the house for the twins to find. a couple of days ago, it was a box of tiny candy canes, hidden in their play kitchen. no sense waiting for Christmas Day to have a glow in your eyes!
• abby and eli keep track of the results of every diaper change and every feeding in a notebook especially for that purpose. it's good info to have in case somebody ends up not feeling well or to tell the pediatrician. not to mention it helps mom and dad remember who had how much on which feeding.
• despite having two and a half month-old triplets, today is the birthday party for the twins, who will turn 3 on the 12th. everyone's piling into the van to go to "the little gym at polaris" for some frolicking good times. does it matter that they will have to lug food and cake and diaper bags and more diaper bags and more diaper bags? no, it does not. what matters is, it's the twins' birthday party, for pete's sake, and why should anything stand in the way of that?

and that, right there, is pretty much the secret, i think, of how abby and eli manage this zoo of theirs with such aplomb......why should anything stand in the way of it?

nothing does.

and nothing ever will.

because something stands in the middle of it.

well, someone.


i'll let you figure out who.

the thanksgiving book

granted, abby is trained as an early childhood educator, but still. it kills me what a great mother she is.

yesterday, when i dropped off the laundry, i noticed that the playroom had a book about thanksgiving displayed in an artful and accessible way. when i was a young mom, i displayed abby's thanksgiving book(s) in an artful and accessible way, too. they were thrown on the floor.

but, no. abby had the book on the toy shelf, above the section of the toy shelf where the rest of the books go. in other words, kind of like how they display books at the library. only this wasn't the library. this was their home. the home with 2 toddler twins and 2-month old triplets in it, don't forget.

the rest of the play area was organized and "theme-friendly." that's my term, not hers, but suffice it to say that the whole thing coordinated. the theme is thanksgiving and the play materials reflect that.

when i was a young mom, my "theme" was thanksgiving, too, and abby's play materials reflected that - she had mashed potatoes on her dollies and stuffing on her stuffed animals. (come to think of it, having stuffing on her stuffed animals is theme-friendly!)

as i walked from the playroom to the family room, i saw the triplets on their backs, on their "play mats," and they were developmentally appropriately swatting at the little toys that dangled over their heads. they were dressed in coordinating outfits and all was right with the world.

well, not really. they weren't dressed like pilgrims. and the toys they swatted at weren't turkeys.

bad mother, abby. baaaaaad mother.

if you're lucky, this will happen to you.

(my son-in-law, eli bowman, wrote this. about himself. about all of us....... if we're lucky.)


Here's the truth about your health. It can be taken away from you before you even know it. You can be doing all kinds of things right and all kinds of things wrong, but somewhere down the line you are likely to get some kind of curveball. That curveball may vary in severity, but it catches you off guard just the same. I got a curveball today, AND an MRI. 3 bulging discs pressing on nerves and 2 degenerative discs to go along with arthritis in my spine. I can't pick up my babies on my own, my already exhausted wife is working twice as hard now while I'm home to make up for some of the things I can't do and won't be able to do for awhile, and I can't play around with the twins the same way as before. There are lots of things I just "can't" do anymore. I ultimately have two options. The first would be to feel sorry for myself and to bring that self-pity into my physical therapy sessions where it would lessen the effectiveness of the treatment. Then I could go home and bring that depression into my home and burden my family with it. This would make the next several months terrible for anyone I loved and cared about. They would have to watch me suffer through painful therapy while defeated emotionally because I'm thinking that my youth has just left the building. I could do that to them and myself. I could choose to be a shell of a man for 7-12 months...or I could take option two, which is to put on the armor, apply the war paint, yell for someone to beat the drum, and march head on into this thing while looking it straight in the face and yelling "You and I both know that I am going to beat you!". So I choose to be the one who gains the upper hand. I choose to take my health seriously, and forsake the habits that only lead to less years with my grandchildren. I choose to listen to all the doctors and do EXACTLY as they say, to the letter, without shortcuts, even if alone. I choose to wear my back brace at work, because it means that I care more about being around for my family than I do about what Jane Doe in Underwriting thinks about the way it looks. I choose to play with my kids, even if it means standing up or sitting down in a chair instead of rolling around on the floor. I choose to be as helpful as possible to my sweet wife, even if that means she has to hand me a baby while I'm standing by the changing table so I can change a diaper JUST to hand them back to Mommy so she can lay them to bed. I choose to have a healthy back again. So let's draw out our war plans, Docs, and rally the troops. Tell them it will be a painful battle that will last for months or possibly even years. Tell them that they're fighting for the greatest cause one can fight for...love. Give them the war paint...now give it to me...and let's go win my back...back!

turns out, i DO have a chest and the reason i know is that i have some things to get off it.

i saw a pro-life poster this week with the picture of an unborn baby and the words, "pretend i'm a tree and save me." i don't know how the hell you can't hear the wake-up call in that one.


you would not know that abby and eli have 2-year old twins and newborn triplets in their house. you just plain wouldn't know it. everything that everybody worried and fretted about just plain hasn't happened. to my knowledge, all 5 have never screamed at the same time. the triplets are on a schedule and have been since day one. you walk in the house and it is organized. there are significant periods of quiet and calm, but not so much  that it's unnatural. in between those quiet and calm times, things are lively and loud! when the twins aren't home, abby and eli usually have a candle or two going and the house smells wonderful. who ever would have thought that, of all things, abby and eli would have time to light candles - but they do.

the bottles and all the rest of the feeding paraphernalia are lined up neatly on the kitchen counter. extra bottles - full of breast milk or formula - are always available. i have never once not had a bottle just ready to go. i remember when abby was a baby and, try as i might, i was always a bottle or two short when feeding time rolled around, and i had to hold a crying baby in the crook of my neck and try to assemble a bottle with one hand. i have never seen anyone do that at abby and eli's.

they keep those blanket thingies for swaddling in the crib, along with a blanket, a burp pad, a pacifier, and a cuddly stuffed animal for each baby, and those things are always there. they are always there and they are always laid out neatly and in order, 1-2-3, all in a cute little row. all you have to do is snuggle each baby into his or her own little papoose and away you go.

the beds are made.

the toys, during playtime, are all over the place and yet, not all over the place. the twins have learned (ok, are learning) where the playroom is and they are being taught to keep their toys there. which isn't to say that they don't have toys in their bedrooms because of course, they do. but they know which toys belong in which room and they can play with wild abandon within those respective rooms. but. once playtime is over, it's time to clean up. do they like this? no, they do not. do abby and eli have to keep coaching and teaching them, over and over, how to do it? yes, they do. do abby and eli just give up, sigh, and just go ahead and clean it up themselves because it's easier that way and besides, they have their hands full feeding 3 babies? no. they do not. despite what's going on - and there is always a lot going on - they insist that the twins clean up their messes. it's nothing short of admirable, really, because i am here to tell you right now......i know that if i were in their situation, i would not have this kind of perseverance. i just wouldn't. trust me. i know myself very well.

their lives have not stopped. so far, they have taken the entire brood to the mall, to the zoo, to the pumpkin farm, to the park for family photos, and to church. i'm still waiting for abby to get a little bit older before i schlep her to the zoo!

in short, they've got it together. they are making this work. and they are happy doing it. you should hear eli when he talks to the kids......he's just so funny and goofy and entertaining! those kids practically have robin williams as patch adams for their dad.

and their mom?

priceless.


so, yeah. pretend they're trees.

and save them.

there's such a thing as a good lump

during "breast cancer awareness month," you might not think so, but there is.


lumps in your breast? not good.

lumps in your mashed potatoes? not good.

lumps (of coal) in your stocking? not good.


but lumps in your throat because your daughter, who turns 29-years old today, says to the world, "ok, world, hit me with your best shot".......and the world hits her with the divorce of her parents and the death of her dad at the precise same time that her first 2 babies are born and the loss of her husband's job on the day they were supposed to close on their house and the loss of her husband's father 6 months after that and guess what - you're pregnant with triplets - .........

and she gets back up - each time - with style and grace. with determination and smiling. with belief in the eternal goodness and rightness of everything.....because that's how God planned it.......

a lump in your throat because of that?


yeah. that's a good lump.

no, SERIOUSLY

the triplets don't wake abby and eli up in the night - abby and eli wake them up.

the entire family was at easton town center exactly one week to the day after the tripilittles were born. the twins played in the fountains, everyone out of diapers ate chipotle, and everyone whose taste buds could tolerate it ate frozen yogurt at yagoot. (blech - yagoot! boo! hiss!)

the entire easton town center field trip lasted about 4 hours. lemme see you try that with 2-year old twins and newborn triplets.

and everyone was happy. yes, happy.

the trips go down for the night at the same time the twins do - 7:00 p.m.  - which gives abby and eli a nice, quiet evening together. nice, quiet evening??? are you kidding me???

no, ma'm, i am not.

the beds are made, the toys are picked up twice a day, the twins are robust and happy and healthy, the triplets are defying all the odds, and abby and eli are smiling.

are they nuts?

are they high?


well, if by "high" you mean in love with God and a purpose-driven life.......

yes.