The Trifecta Hunts For Eggs

Today we attended a delightful Easter egg hunt sponsored by our church.  The Trifecta still hasn't figured out that they are supposed to uncover as many eggs as possible.  I asked Elizabeth how many eggs she wanted to find and she replied, “Just one, please.”

We did the best we could do.  Hendley had a meltdown when her shoes got wet.  Mary Ellis opened an egg that contained a package of Skittles and called it a day.

I believe we collected about twelve eggs in all.  We divided them up among The Trifecta and I snapped photos while they opened their eggs, each one a gift containing a delicious candy treasure; Skittles, jelly beans, Hershey kisses, Starburst fruit chews. 

I should have been watching them more closely.  I should have monitored the candy consumption.  But, I didn’t. Three rounds of explosive diarrhea later and I decided the time had come to think of egg stuffing candy alternatives for Easter Sunday.  Explosions in their new, pink, smocked Easter dresses will not be tolerated.

I took a field trip to World Market, Barnes & Noble, Party City, and Target.  Here’s what I came up with:

1) Bandaids.  The Trifecta loves Bandaids.  There is an amazing assortment of decorated bandages to choose from.

2) Jelly bracelets - Party City sells them in packs of 20.  Silly Bandz too!

3) Bubbles - Both Party City and Target sell teeny tiny bubbles that fit inside most plastic eggs.

4) Temporary Tattoos and/or stickers

5) Pennies, nickles, dimes

6) Fuzzy Chicks - I found these at World Market.  Some people refer to these as, "Crap I will eventually find in my vacuum cleaner or under the couch."  I thought we could use them for counting, sorting, or a future art activity.

7) Rings - I found these at Party City.  If you step on one of the little pink bad boys you will, literally, puncture your foot.

8) Legos

9) Tiny stamps - I found these at Barnes and Noble.  Most teacher supply stores carry them too.

10) Magnets - I found these at Barnes and Noble.  So fancy!  That's 26 stuffed eggs!

Don't get me wrong, I'm not anti-candy.  But I do think it's nice to have alternatives.  That way, I can enjoy taking pictures of thirty tiny toes hunting for eggs on Easter Sunday...without fear of, well, you know.

Tiny Bouncing Toes

The person who took the concept of an insanely large warehouse space filled with inflatables the size of starter homes is brilliant. A genius.  I’m jealous I didn’t think of it first.

Today I joined a group of mothers at Bounce U.  The girls frequented an inflatable land in Georgia with the help of my Mother or Amy (our Mommy-Helper).  It didn’t dawn on me until the four of us walked through the doors of Bounce U that I had never braved inflatable land alone. 

They spread like peanut butter.  Elizabeth ran to a race car video game. Hendley sprinted to a table of treasures. Mary Ellis dashed to the claw-grab a stuffed animal-steal your money device.

I took a deep breath.  I signed the contract that states you won’t sue them if your child breaks a limb. I paid them $36 for fun.

“LET’S GO JUMP!” I coaxed/begged. 

Mary Ellis immediately ran to the tallest, most deadly inflatable slide.  She started up the climbing wall ladder.  She moved at the speed of light.  I perspired...a lot. 

  Hendley needed a little more encouragement.  

Mary Ellis and Elizabeth have no fear.

 

Take a close look at the face of fun.

Twenty tiny toes bouncing.

 

 

  

  My precious Hendley Grace takes a break from bouncing.

 

 We survived.

Loss

I didn’t realize until today that I have (at least) four things in common with Michelle Duggar.

1)      We have both declared Christ as our Savior.

2)      We both cherish the lives of our children.

3)      We both write when we don’t know how to pray.

4)      We have both experienced the incredible and indescribable loss of a child.

I should have been concentrating on folding laundry today, but I turned on the television.  “19 Kids and Counting” projected on the television screen.  Michelle and Jim Bob were anxiously and excitedly waiting for the ultra sound technician to determine the sex of their unborn child.  The baby’s heart no longer beat inside Michelle. She wept.  She prayed.

I could relate.

Most people know that Chris and I walked the difficult road of infertility.  Many people do not know that two years before the girls were born, we lost a child.  Just like Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar, Chris and I anxiously and excitedly waited as my OBGYN conducted the ultrasound.  When he could not find a heartbeat he sent us to an office with a stronger, state of the art piece of equipment.  It didn’t find a heartbeat either.  Almost six years and a set of triplets later, Chris and I still haven’t recovered from that loss.

I was not as gracious and forgiving as Michelle Duggar.  She recited Job 1:21. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.”  I cursed God. I didn’t speak to Him for several days.  I felt angrier than I had ever felt in my whole life.

We sought guidance and support from our church. Rev. Suzanne Smitherman counseled us.  She planned and facilitated a small memorial service for our baby.  And, she wept with us. 

I still didn’t feel better.                                                                                

I found myself sitting on the bed today, crying as Michelle Duggar recounted the events of her loss.  “It never leaves you,” I said out loud, though I know she couldn’t hear me.  I still think of our baby all the time. Sometimes I am driving in the car.  Sometimes I see a child that is about the same age she would have been and I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. Sometimes one of the girls will laugh, or smile a certain way and I wonder what her laugh or smile would sound like or look like. She left me on August 4, one day before my 31^st birthday.  That day hurts. Her due date was February 28^th. That day hurts too.

I was shocked to learn that 19% of the adult population has experienced the loss of a child (from miscarriage through adult-age children).   Statistics vary from source to source, but approximately 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage.

I didn’t discover this resource until Chris and I began the adoption process, but I would like to share this on the blog today for anyone who is struggling with infertility or pregnancy loss.  I still subscribe to the publication.

http://step.bethany.org/

Michelle Duggar has 19 other children.  I have a Tiny Toe Trifecta. I know we are both grateful and blessed beyond anything we deserve.  But we both feel a terrible sense of loss.

Fairy Hunting

The girls discovered a Fairy Land at Campus School.

They immediately began constructing a bedroom for the fairies.

Fairy Hunter, Hendley Grace, began picking grass for their beds.

Elizabeth constructed a bed perfect for fairies.

Mary Ellis designed a fairy-size bedroom.

Fairy Hunters love to run.

 

Mary Ellis used dandelions for fairy pillows.

 There is nothing better in this world than spending an afternoon with my fairy hunters.

How do you handle sharing with strangers?  By strangers, I mean children that you have never met before. Children who run up to you and say, “I want to play with that (fill in the blank).”

My policy is simple:  Could the parent of said child harm me physically?

For example, last week the girls and I went to a local playground.  We took their buckets and shovels to the “sandbox” (otherwise known as the volleyball court). The girls removed their shoes and spread their toes in the sand.  We filled the buckets.  We patted the sand down into the buckets and practiced turning them over to make castles.

“I WANT THAT BUCKET AND SHOVEL!” a tiny fairy of a girl shouted at my daughters.  Hendley’s eyes were as big as saucers.  I scoped the area.  The fairy’s mother stood 5 feet 2 inches.  She weighed approximately 80 pounds.  Unless she was hiding a shiv in her pocket, I would survive a physical altercation.

“Sweet heart,” I cooed, “My girls are playing with the buckets and shovels at this time.  You cannot take them right now.  When we are finished, we will be happy to share with you.”  The fairy ran to the other side of the “sandbox” and Hendley spent the next 20 minutes hoarding the buckets and shovels and watching the fairy like a hawk.   

How does one develop such an intelligent philosophy when it comes to child rearing?  My Dad, the most precious and adorable man on the face of the planet, taught me to constantly ask myself, “What could go wrong in this situation?” 

Last year we went “camping” at Amicalola Falls State Park.  The drive out of park consists of a long, winding, somewhat steep road.  “QUICK!” he shouted, “THE BREAKS IN YOUR CAR HAVE JUST FAILED!  WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?” I started to sweat, “Is this pretend?” I questioned.  “You have to anticipate,” he answered, “You have to ask yourself, ‘What could go wrong with this situation.’  What would you do if your breaks stopped working right now?” I panicked, “I don’t know!” Daddy was calm and patient.  “First, you pull up your park break to slow down your vehicle.  Then, once you have reached a safe speed and find a safe landscape, you pull off the road so that you may come to a safe stop.”

Therefore, my sharing philosophy is based on the assumption that the worst thing that could go wrong when a child is refused a material object is some kind of physical confrontation.

We went to the Discovery Center today.  The lovely and talented Mrs. Joy taught a fabulous lesson on exercise.  She had various hula hoops, jump ropes, and balls out for the children to enjoy.  Mary Ellis had just ripped the jump rope from Hendley’s hands when a little girl ran up to her and stated, “I think you should share that jump rope with me.”  Mary Ellis’ expression said it all, “Absolutely not.” I looked at the little girls’ mother.  She was an estimated 10 feet tall and her physique suggested that she had recently competed in an Olympic level body building competition. “Let’s share with her, Mimi,” I said meekly.  
The little girl took the jump rope.  Mary Ellis’ face turned ten shades of crimson and her red hair actually looked redder. “That was not really nice,” she said, “She was not making really good choices.”  

I felt AWFUL.

Mary Ellis spent the rest of the day recounting the episode.  It was the first thing she told Grandfather when we met him for lunch. 

Grandfather, who knows best, taught Mary Ellis a new technique. “Make your meanest face,” he coached, “Then, use your meanest voice to say, ‘NO!’”  They had several practice together before Mary Ellis perfected her technique.

Perhaps my philosophy is in need of revision. 

Watch the video below for Mimi's perspective.

Dear Every Parent of Every Child I Ever Taught,

I am sorry…because I did not have a clue about a lot of things. 

For example:

“Don’t cross the invisible line Mom,” the teacher instructed me.  Elizabeth was crying on our way into her class today.  She didn’t want to leave me. 

Granny crossed the invisible line a few weeks ago.  I believe her reply, just to summarize, went something like, “How lovely that you have a line that I did not know about and cannot see, which symbolizes that a parent must leave his or her child.  You must not have met me before, because I am THE GRANDMOTHER.  Your invisible line not only does not apply to me, it angers me.  Bless your heart for inventing such a ridiculous management technique.”

But I am not The Grandmother.  And I like to follow the rules, most of the time. “Okay,” I replied.  The teacher scooped Elizabeth into her arms and they walked into class.  I started to sweat.  My body temperature spiked to approximately one hundred and ten degrees.  I sat down and pretended to read a book.  But I couldn’t see the words on the page through the dime size tears in my eyes. 

Did I ever do this to a parent in my classroom?  Because I remember invisibly rolling my eyes at parents who walked children to class each day because I was twenty six and knew everything about how to parent a first grader.  “Where is your need to foster independence?” I internally asked my too small to see brain.  So, to every parent I ever invisibly eye rolled, I am truly sorry.  I had no idea.

But today, my little girl was whimpering, “I want you to go with me, Mommy.”  And she wanted me to walk her to class because, for some reason, she felt something that made her cry.  But there was an invisible line that I was not allowed to cross. 

There is probably a good reason for the invisible line.  Just like there was probably a good reason some of my first grade parents needed to walk their son or daughter to class.

So, if I feel the need to walk Elizabeth across the stage on the day of her high school graduation, I need someone to please say, “Don’t cross the invisible line Mom!”

My Libby Lou

Being Brave

Hendley Grace is cautious.  But today, she was adventurous.  We went to the waterfall on the Greenway today.  Her sisters wore their Keens.  She wore her tennis shoes.  She doesn’t like to get her feet wet. 

“Pick me up, Mommy,” she said.  Her sisters were in the river.  She needed to observe for a minute.  I held her.  We were quiet.  “Take my shoes off, Mommy,” she said.  I took her shoes off.  “Put my feet in the water, Mommy” she whispered. I dipped her feet in the water.  She smiled. “I want my Keens, Mommy,” she requested. I sprinted to the stroller where her Keens were waiting for her.  I put them on her feet.

 

She took my hand.  She led me to the water. 

She climbed out onto the rocks. 

 “You are brave,” I told her, “You are courageous.” I was sweating…because I didn’t want to slip on the slimy rocks. 

 But I was also excited because my Hendley Grace was confident and delighted with herself.

"You can go through life and make new friends every year - every month practically - but there was never any substitute for those friendships of childhood that survive into adult years. Those are the ones in which we are bound to one another with hoops of steel.”
― Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency

My oldest best friend is staying at my house…with her two sons (one of whom is my Godson) and her husband.  It is my special version of heaven.  Our other bestest is getting married tomorrow.  We are happy.

I met Cari and Amanda when I was in eighth grade.  My family had just moved to Austin, Texas from Bloomington, Illinois.  They thought I was a boy in Bloomington, so I pretty much knew that things would improve in Texas.  I don’t know what it is about each of us that drew us together as friends.  But it was wonderful. 

Tomorrow Amanda is getting married. 

Did I mention how happy I am?

Tadpole Hunting

I did something heinous to my back.  “Stop picking up the girls.  Try to lie in bed with a pillow between your legs,” instructed Dr. Hopkins.  We smiled at eat other as he finished his directions.  It was a smile that said, “We both know that you are going to continue to pick them up and there is no chance you will get to rest in bed.”

So, when I woke up this morning I secretly hoped that the Tiny Toes Trifecta had forgotten about the tadpoles.  I held my breath as I opened the door to their room.  “Good morning, Mommy,” said Hendley, “Is it time to get our tadpoles today?”  I’m putty in her hands.  “ABSOLUTELY,” I reply, “After breakfast.  And we’ll have to go to Wal Mart to get a container to keep them in.”  “HOORAY!” they exclaimed in unison.

Tadpole hunting did not go as planned.  As soon as we arrived at the pond Hendley had a change of heart. “I don’t want to get the tadpoles anymore,” she stated forcefully.  I decided to set out our picnic and hoped she would warm-up to the idea.

Mary Ellis began hunting immediately.  According to her there were tadpoles the size of sharks in that pond and she was going to get them all.

Elizabeth followed.  “I got one Mommy!” she yelled.  The net was empty.  “Great,” I replied, “Now put it in the aquarium.”

Mary Ellis and Elizabeth fished for approximately 57 seconds. Hendley ate lunch. I caught the tadpoles.

I’m not going to lie to you.  I envisioned at least 30 minutes of tadpole hunting with The Trifecta. I imagined us sharing observations about the plants with one another, asking thoughtful questions, and exploring the tadpole habitat.  (There was also a point in my fantasy where one of them said, “Thank you for this enriched learning experience, Mommy.  Perhaps I should write about our adventure on my Vanderbilt application essay?”)

Scholar and academic Jennifer Aniston once said, “I always say don't make plans, make options.” Thank goodness I remembered to pack food.

From Tadpole to Frog

I picked Mary Ellis up out of her crib this morning, cuddled her close to me, kissed her sweet face, and said, “Good morning, My Love.” “I want to go to the playground,” she replied, “I want to go RIGHT NOW.”  “Okay,” I answered, “Let’s eat some breakfast first.” “I want to eat outside,” she informed me.

Message received.  My girls like to play…outside…as much as possible.  Today I decided to live on the edge and take them to a school playground.  It’s one of their favorites.  There is a slide that is approximately 500 feet tall.  They enjoy crowding and pushing one another on the 500 steps as they race to the top and I have a panic attack.  But I read somewhere that you aren’t supposed to project fear so I smile and say things like, “I really like how carefully you are climbing.”

There is also a man-made pond where the students are raising tadpoles.  The Tiny Toe Trifecta can stare at them for hours (ok, it’s more like 10 to 15 minutes, but in three year old time, it’s like hours).  “Can we take them home, Mommy?” Hendley asks.  I don’t know the first thing about raising tadpoles.  The teacher in me can’t resist.  “We’ll come back tomorrow with our nets and try to catch some,” I answer. This satisfies them.  We leave the pond and move to the greenhouse where there is a dead spider trapped in glass. 

So, while the girls were napping today (and they did nap today), I did a little research.  For me, extensive research involves typing a question into Google.  I perused several websites and found one that I felt answered most of my questions.  

http://allaboutfrogs.org/info/tadpoles/index.html

So, tomorrow we are going to return to the little pond with some nets and, hopefully, catch some tadpoles!  Do any of you have experience raising tadpoles?  If so, I would love to hear about it. 

I’m attempting to write my first blog post.  But, I’m distracted.  There are thirty tiny toes that are supposed to be napping upstairs.  Instead, they have jumped out of their cribs and are running around their bedroom.  Screams and giggles accompany the pitter patters across the floor. Now they are fighting about whether or not to sing, “Jingle Bells.” 

My Tiny Toe Trifecta, all girls, turned three in March.  My husband, a saint of man, and I have been married for almost twelve years.  He’s at work.  I just sent him the following text, “No nap today. I’m exhausted.”    

This is one of those moments that make me crazy.  What do I do?  I have already been up to their room four times in the last hour.  They have slept in the same room since we brought them home from the NICU.  Hendley and Elizabeth came home first after ten days.  Eleven days later our teeny tiny, Mary Ellis, joined them.  “Get back in your cribs.  Rest your bodies.  Rest your eyes.  Rest your mouths.  Or you won’t get ice cream after we go to the playground.”  That’s right; I just threatened them with ice cream withdrawal.  I’m that desperate.  And yes, they are still sleeping in cribs.  Because in my mind they are trapped in those things and I will get to sleep more. 

Motherhood is by far the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. Jen, the author of the blog, “People I Want to Punch in the Throat,” would probably add me to her list for saying such things (I love her blog by the way), but it’s true.  Before the girls were born I taught school for ten years.  I truly loved working in education, but I was always itching inside.  It’s a feeling of dissatisfaction I just can’t describe.  It had nothing to do with teaching, or my school, or the people with whom I worked, it had to do with me.  I don’t feel that way anymore.  Now I feel confused, overwhelmed, clueless, exhausted, and completely content.

Writing about my life with The Tiny Toe Trifecta makes me happy.  Stuff happens to us that I couldn’t make up if I tried.  I hope sharing these stories will make people laugh.  I hope that I can ask questions about parenting and I hope that readers will offer comments and suggestions.  I hope nothing I write will make people, especially Jen, want to punch me in the throat.