On Child Rage

It was recess time, and a child can be heard raging out just outside the classroom door. Moments later, the school librarian walks in, looking for any distraction. He apologizes for the screaming and explains that the child outside is classified as special needs; the rage is a common occurrence. 4 out of 4 times, he has successfully calmed down the kid by providing some sort of distraction, but this time, the child’s teacher insists that the child works through his emotions on his own. A few minutes later, R’s teacher returns to the classroom and explains that she had been away supporting the raging student’s teacher. The child sometimes rages to the point where his teacher needs to clear the classroom out of fear that a tossed chair might hurt a classmate. It’s a lot of big emotions for one teacher to handle, especially when there are 29 other students to care for. What’s clear is that everyone feels for the child. And for the teacher.

There really are only two courses of action when a child loses control of their emotions. Two options, that won’t damage the psyche, that is. One is to distract and divert attention. The other is to provide a safe space for the child to work out his/her emotions. All sorts of factors come into play when determining which tactic to take. At the end of the day, everyone just takes their best guess and hopes for the best.

The librarian lamented over the lack of available resources to helping with special needs kids at the school. I don’t know how the situation was exactly resolved, but the child seemed to have quieted down by the time I left. Maybe the waiting tactic worked. I don’t know. Raising littles is hard because no child follows a standard playbook, and we’ll always be short on resources in one way or another. What we do have is each other. Sometimes, you’re right. Sometimes, I’ll be right. Or maybe we’re both right. Regardless, we’re all in it together.

I truly appreciate the school instructors for banding together. Every weekday, we entrust them to not only teach academics, but to nurture them. And that’s what they do, day in and day out, whether we see it or not. I couldn’t do what they do. I’m grateful that they can.

Empathy

A snippet of morning conversation:

M: When I wasn’t sleeping, I was thinking about the firemen with no beds. They are so pitiful (previously said the same thing about nap time.)

I had shown them pictures of firemen sleeping on the sidewalks with rocks as pillows and the of firemen in sleeping bags at the park. The fire has been part of the regular conversation this past week. They ask daily for status updates.

M: I feel bad for the people without homes, all burned down by the fire. (pauses to think). I know what to do! God can use his magic to very quickly rebuild their homes! Mom, tonight when we pray, let’s ask God to do his magic to help those people! That way they can go home really quickly.”

M really cares about what is happening to people as a result of the ongoing fires in Northern California. So have the other two, but in different, less considered ways. I hope that M is not losing sleep thinking about what is going on. She speaks her concerns completely matter-of-factly, so it doesn’t look like she’s distraught, but it still makes me worry if the burden of knowledge is too much. M has set aside money and drawn pictures for the firefighters, collected funds for the people who have lost their homes, and made bracelets for the triplets who are currently homeless. We will certainly supplement her contributions and donate to the relevant organizations, but what should I, as a parent, do with these drawings and gifts? Is it self-serving to actually send them to their intended recipients? Should I just squirrel them away and hope she forgets? Advice?

 

 

Benevolence

Ever since Ridley kindly offered Maddox the coveted middle seat in the van, Maddox has taken measures to maintain her claim of the coveted spot. She intentionally leaves a pair of shoes right under the seat in order to save time the next morning. It’s no holds barred when pushing past her siblings to get to the seat as soon as the door opens. The siblings haven’t put up much of a fight until this morning. Ridley had already mentioned a couple of times about wanting to sit in the middle again. He made the power move this morning by getting to it first. Maddox sat and bawled.

Me to R: Ridley, you can’t take the seat unless your sister gives it to you. Remember, you gave her the seat. She can have it till she gives it up. It’s the same rule that we have with toys.

Me to M: Maddox, you’ve had the middle seat for quite sometime now. Ridley really wants it. Can you share?

Q: I never get the chance to sit in the middle seat. (She walks away with a pout. Unlike her siblings, she never pouts. Or get into power struggles.)

M (after some consideration): I will sit in the middle seat this morning. Ridley can sit in the middle seat after school.

Me: And Quinlin? Can she sit in the middle seat tomorrow morning?

M: Yes. And then I can sit. And then Ridley can sit. It’s like the Raccoon. When you share with others, others will share with you.

Everyone happily gets in the van. I rejoice.

It’s a mystery how our munchkins have turned so reasonable. Who knows how long this new routine will last. Still. I really am proud of how they’re growing into pretty decent human beings. Thank God.

Well Played

Maddox needed to go to the dentist this morning for a couple fillings. I waited to till breakfast to tell her because…well..there’s no good reason to give three year-olds advanced notices on anything. She immediately looked worried.

M: I don’t want to go to the dentist. I will be scared.

Me: I understand that you will be scared, but you have holes in your teeth…

M and I talk for a bit more about why she has cavities and what not. She remains unconvinced. Then the siblings join in the conversation.

Q: Sister, I will protect you! I will help you get your pink blanket!

R: You can ride in the middle! (M has been coveting that carseat spot for weeks now. R has vehemently rejected her each time.)

M: Okay! Let’s go!

M runs to the garage door. On the way there, she sees R’s lizard toy. Each child had their own lizard toy at one point, but Maddox had broken an arm off of hers on Saturday. She was crestfallen when she realized that I couldn’t just sew or glue it back on. Seeing her sister’s tears, Q offered to lend M her lizard. M loved it. And then she lost it that same day.

M: Can I bring the lizard?

Me: It’s your brother’s. You have to ask him.

M to R: Can I borrow your lizard?

R: Yes!

And that’s how M ended up with both the coveted carseat and toy. Everyone happily gets into the van, and we’re off to the dentist.

The siblings are suckers.

She’s got it all worked out

Me: Who is your best friend?

M: Cake. With strawberries on top.

Me: Who is Ridley’s best friend?

M: Quinlin.

Me: Who is Quinlin’s best friend?

M: Dad.

Me: Who is Dad’s best friend?

M: Quinlin.

Me. Who is my best friend?

M: Maddox!

 

Everyday is Awesome

   

Why is he so wet?!

Then it dawns on me. We put R to bed without diapers. Between the free-flowing snot (theirs and mine), nuclear tantrums, various stages of of potty training, and the closest we’ve ever come to a nap-free day (M’s was so short, even she proclaimed upon waking, “I did not sleep”), we had long since run out of good parenting skills. It seems fitting as I carefully peeled off pee-soaked underwear that solid matter should also tumble out. As visually represented by R’s present, we’ve had a sh_tty weekend.

That said, the kids never fail to offer endearing moments that make this parenting thing so worth it.

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Ridley
“Mom, can you come to my room to play with me?” (spoken Sunday morning while leading me by the hand after a rough evening where Jay and I had gone to bed at the same time as the kids since we were so spent)

Quinlin
During dinner on Friday, I noticed Q looking askance at me then making small physical adjustments to her seated position. I asked if she was copying me. She smiled. She tried it again during lunch yesterday. Imagine an uncoordinated toddler trying to sit with legs crossed. There will come a time when such behavior will signify mockery, but for now, it’s heartwarming.

Maddox
M: Mom, why do you have no voice?
Me: Because I am sick.
M: Let me hug you. Then you won’t be sick.

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I sure wish kids never stop being cute.

A Little Faith

“I hate the sight of kids with pacifiers.”
“They’re too old for pacifiers. It’s embarrassing!”
“The kids need to be off pacifiers by the time they turn three.”

Ever since the kids reached their second birthday, it is as though a countdown has been set to remind us of when we must get rid of one of our biggest crutch for preserving sanity. The longer the kids keep them, the worse we are as caretakers. No parent ever sets out to create little addicts. We introduced pacifiers to two of our lot out of desperation. Even then, we made sure to limit usage to the crib and car, partially to contain the addiction, but really, to reduce the exposure to judging eyes.

As the kids are quickly nearing their third birthday, the pressure is on to rid ourselves of the paci’s. Plenty of moms recommend going cold turkey and that the kids will be fine after three days. But what about the other moms who aren’t speaking up? Are they still traumatized from the ordeal? And even for those who succeed, what happens exactly during those three days?

After much discussion and hemming and hawing, the husband and I decide that now’s as good of a time as it ever will be. The kids are healthy. We don’t have any major events scheduled in the near future. Since the two paci users show no interest in potty training at the moment, we might as well tackle this hurdle now instead of having to deal with two things at once during some future date.

The children already know that pacifiers are not forever, but they refuse to give them up on their own. We’ve tried. Yet, I want them to be the ones to make the decision.  It’s a big step to give up something that has provided so much comfort for so long. Even though plenty of people suggest sabotaging the pacifier (think ginger juice, chili sauce, etc.), for whatever reason, I can’t get over how cruel that sounds. In the end, we decide to snip off the tips and observe.

DAY 1

The kids immediately notice that the car paci’s are broken when I pick them up from day care. I tell them that it’s because they’re old. They ask to throw them away. Once home, M and R both realize that the paci’s at home are also broken. We give them new animal pillows as comfort items to soften the blow. That night, the kids whine for about an hour before falling asleep. M wakes up a couple times throughout the evening and has a hard time falling back asleep. R awakes 1.5 hours early the next morning and cries inconsolably till I go in to comfort him. It’s not the sh_t show that we were expecting, but it was still a rough night.

DAY 2

The kids realize that the paci’s at the day care are also broken. M sleeps with her broken paci. The whining and waking are about the same. R appears to be angry at me the next morning.

DAY 3

M tells me, “All of the paci’s are broken. They are too old. I will have to use the broken paci’s then.” I start thinking that we may have to stealthily trim down the paci’s every few days till she gets the message. M continues to have a hard time falling back asleep, and R continues to wake up early and unhappy.

DAY 4

I ask the kids if they want to throw away their broken paci’s, and they do so with great pomp and circumstance. We brace ourselves for the evening. Miraculously, both kids fall asleep without any paci’s in peace. M continues having a hard time falling back asleep in the middle of the night, but R wakes up at his normal time and resumes his morning serenades.

The battle is not over, but honestly, we expected much, much worse. Not once did the kids demand new pacifiers. They simply accepted the fact that their pacifiers are broken, and they’re with it. And that’s the thing. The husband and I always expect the worst, but the kids continue to step up and respond with more maturity than we credit them. Like the time when we stopped giving them evening bottles. Or when we took down the prison walls. And even when we converted the cribs into toddler beds. We worried, planned contingencies, and prayed. God was merciful each time.

Now if only potty training were that easy. But that’s a tale for another day.

Our First Family Vacation

Ever since the kids were born, I’ve dreamed about the day when we will finally be able to go on vacation as a family. The husband and I did manage one overnight trip on our own back when the kids were around 7 months old, but other than that, it has been one long, dry spell. Plenty of triplets have gone on exotic adventures at a much younger age, but the husband and I tend to be cautious parents. We generally avoid going to anywhere with the kids without having a good picture of what we may be getting ourselves into. Spontaneity? No thank you. The kids provide enough daily surprises on their own.

So why now? At 32-months, the kids have achieved a certain level of independence. They’re always game to going to some place new. And we have family (aka. help) visiting. Yosemite seemed like a good place to start because 1. it’s a drivable distance,  2. we’re familiar with what the place has to offer and 3. both the husband and I love it there.

When we first booked the trip, I envisioned little feet dipping into the riverbed and afternoons by the pool, so it was a bit of a shock to see thunderstorms and snow in the forecast three days before departure. Fortunately, I already had winter apparel in storage, but it was still a mad scramble to source footwear suitable for cold and wet weather. The whole packing process was maddeningly complicated. I may or may not have lost it a couple times, but with the help of the husband and a checklist, we were ready for our first great family adventure.

DAY 1: Yosemite or bust!

9:00am: We kept with the usual morning schedule and still managed to get on the road ahead of schedule (yay!).

On the road with Aunty Janice

10:30am: The kids started getting a little antsy, so we stopped off at a gas station to fill up and allow them to stretch their legs. They got a kick out of watching the car eat his meal.

12:30pm: We arrive at Evergreen Lodge. Since it’s too early to check-in, we eat a super yummy lunch at the restaurant patio (my all-time favorite black bean quinoa burger) and scope out the facilities. The family recreation center is impressively stocked with toys for a variety of ages. R does not want to leave.

I don’t think we ever taught him how to actually play the game

The rec center is stocked with puzzles, books, a slide, and all sorts games for the little ones. M wished that she was old enough for the foosball and pool tables.

2:00pm: We head down to Yosemite Valley and get out at the Swinging Bridge. Jay attempts to teach the kids how to skip stones in the water. We then attempt our first hike and…well…don’t get very far.

4:00pm: Time to head back to the lodge to check-in and settle into our evening accommodations. R scouts out our 2 bedroom/1 bath lodge like a boss. The kids call dibs to their cots without violence.

6:00pm: Dinnertime at the lodge. Since we were all still full from out late lunch, ended up delving into our food crate for a light dinner.

8:00pm: Bedtime routine and lights out. R sings his sisters to sleep while he himself remains wide awake. Can’t win them all.

Wish we can say that the kids had a peaceful night’s sleep after such an action-packed day. Q slept like a champ. M had the hardest time adjusting to the cot and woke up throughout the night, even managing to bust her lip at one point. R, accustomed to sleeping in his own room, woke up every time M wailed and wondered why there were disco lights. Nevertheless, the kids awoke in chipper spirits, ready to skip more stones.

The disco light

DAY 2: 

10:00am: We set out to Glacier Point for our first hike with the plan to have the kids nap during the extended drive back into Yosemite Valley afterwards. Bad move. All three complained about achy butts, and when we arrived, the weather was too cold for any extended hike.

1:00pm: We find a clearing that’s buffeted from the wind for a quick picnic lunch. The kids’ moods improve immediately. Guess we should have watched the time a little more carefully. With a full belly, the kids (and a couple adults) nap during the drive back to Yosemite Valley.

3:00pm: After a quick stop at the convenience store (and apparently for souvenirs), we take the much-anticipated bus to lower Yosemite Falls. The kids have wanted to ride one for ages, so we figured that the free Yosemite shuttle would be a suitable initiation. They could have stayed on for the full hour loop if we had let them, but we had a schedule to follow.

Father couldn’t resist.

waiting for the bus

3:30pm: We hike the lower Yosemite Falls trail. No water, but the kids entertained themselves between singing and picking up sticks.

“Can we throw stones?”

5:30pm: Back at the lodge for dinner at the lodge. Once again, R gobbles up the mac ‘n cheese.

8:00pm: Bedtime routine and lights out. Silence. We are hopeful for a good night’s rest.

4:00 to 6:00am: Q coughs and vomits 4 times. First, in her cot. Then the floor. After that, our bed. And for the finale, back in her cot. We eventually fall asleep together on the sofa, hoping that the elevated position will have reduce the coughing.

DAY 3:

7:00am: R serenades all into wakefulness. The kids play at the rec center while the adults pack.

10:30am: With a sad heart, we say good-bye to one of my favorite vacation spots. ’till next time, Yosemite Lodge! Your loyal customers miss you.

PS. M started crying as soon as she realized we were on our way home. Guess I’m not the only one with the travel bug.

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(The following is just some nitty gritty detail for future reference or for people who are just curious as to what it takes to get triplets out of the house.)

WHAT WE PACKED

Clothing (and yes, we needed practically everything):

• 9 sets of clothing (long sleeve shirt, fleece pullover, fleece/sweat pants, thick socks), labeled by child and day
• 6 fleece pjs
• 6 tank tops to wear under pjs or daytime clothing
• 3 winter jackets, rated to handle snow
• 6 pairs of leggings, in case we needed something to layer under the pants. I secretly hoped to see R in a pair.
• 3 pairs of water-resistant pants, in case of rain or snow
• 3 pairs of spare socks
• 3 pairs of rain boots
• 3 pairs of sturdy sneakers
• 3 sets of fleece mittens
• 3 bear caps

Bedding:

• 3 Regalo sleep cots
• 3 plush blankets for cushioning
• 3 crib sheets
• 3 fleece blankets
• 3 Angel Dear animals for comfort
• 1 bear night light (aka. the disco light)

Food (because the kids don’t reliably eat restaurant food):

• Avocados
• Hummus & crackers
• Eggs
• Grapes
• Apples
• String cheese
• Granola bars
• Instant oatmeal
• Instant noodle (for the adults)
• shelf-stable milk
• Trail mix
• Mighty 4 pouches
• Miscellaneous assortment of snack items

Entertainment (only needed while in our room. the rec center provided plenty of entertainment):

• Megablocks
• New box of crayons and 3 notebooks
• 5 story books for bedtime reading
• 4 soft books

Reasons why my children can’t sleep

Q: My shirt sleeve is wet.

M: My bear needs a hair cut.

On Tantrums

When she’s happy, there really is nothing cuter. When she’s melting down, however, all I want to do is throw her into a room, close the door, then walk away. And this girl tantrums way more often than her siblings. In the earlier months, we practiced the Supernanny method of putting her on time outs. It worked in the sense that the threat quieted her down, but what we were left with was a super sensitive toddler, ready to to go off again at any provocation. She may look happy, but three meltdowns in 10 minutes obviously meant that things were not okay.

Not long ago, I read some internet article that claimed to have the solution to toddler tantrums. It touted the loss of connection as the reason behind the rage and that the way to end an episode is to re-establish and reaffirm the parent/child connection. In other words, parents should shower love even as nerves fry and patience thins. Easy. Right.

Skeptical as I was (how can any adult know for certain what a 2-year-old is feeling?), I filed this piece of advice in my parenting toolbox because, as any parent knows, you never really know what will or will not work. And it works for M’s brand of tantrums. These days, when M starts growing agitated with an unreasonable demand, I still explain why she can’t have what she wants, but I don’t devote too much energy to it. Instead, I let her vent for a bit, using that time to take care of the needs of the other two, then come back to her and quietly hold her until she calms down. If she resists, I give her a little more time to work through the anger, but I sit with her. Ever so often, I will calmly propose something else that she might like to do. A time will come when she will want to be held. Her body relaxes, and after a few minutes, she’s ready to move on. She won’t even ask for whatever it is that sparked the tantrum in the first place. The key is to allow time for her emotions to run their course. Without it, there’s a high likelihood for more tantrums in quick succession. Holding her keeps her from going full Hulk (full body rigidity, inability to stop crying, vomiting, etc.); even though her behavior is pushing me away, what she needs is attention. In the last two weeks, I’ve used this technique when she refused to brush her teeth, when she wanted more waffles, and when she coveted her siblings’ toys. So far, so good.

And good thing tantrums aren’t contagious. Yet.