We may not be doing everything right, but I am pretty sure we are doing some things right.

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What do you see when you look at this photo?

I see a mom (me) who had a long and stressful day at work yesterday and was too tired to cook.

I see three kids I would call (though I shouldn’t, because I know you’re not supposed to label your kids) “extremely picky eaters.” Especially if I tipped the bag and revealed the two barely eaten burgers because…well, I don’t actually have any clue why, but apparently last night’s Shake Shack burgers were in some teeny, tiny, infinitesimal and unidentifiable way, “different.”
I see a mom (again, me) who lets her kids eat French Fries for dinner sometimes. A mom who didn’t even order a third source of protein because she knew Miss S wouldn’t eat it. And a mom who didn’t even try to convince any of her children to add a vegetable.
I see a parent (or two) for whom nutritious eating is unfortunately ranked pretty low on her list of priorities.
I see a fast food chain (@Shake Shack) that follows good food allergy practices and is a place we feel safe eating out with our highly nut-allergic child.
I see the rotten bananas I haven’t thrown away because we keep thinking we’ll make banana bread, and then we don’t.
I see our messy apartment that I swear was clean yesterday, or five minutes ago. It’s all the same. It will be messy again in no time, so why bother keeping track?
In case you ARE keeping track, you might have realized that I see, in that picture, several ways in which I am falling short of my parenting goals.
And I see, in that paper bag, all the guilt and shame and frustration I feel due to what I have deemed my greatest failing as a parent: the fact that our children do not have a healthy and well-rounded diet because we do not prioritize one.

But that’s not all I see. Because this bag tells two stories: the more blatant, obvious, surface-level one that I fed my children Shake Shack last night and all that entails (including, perhaps, the assumption that I feed them Shake Shack often…which is not exactly untrue even if there’s hardly enough evidence here to support that conclusion) and another, far less obvious one about who these kids we are raising really are.

Spoiler Alert: they aren’t what they eat.

Because this bag also tells the story of my three kids who, as we were leaving the restaurant, said, “Mom, can we buy a burger for the homeless man outside and then give it to him?”

So you see, this bag is simultaneously a source of my greatest self-criticism and my greatest pride as a parent.

It’s true, we need to work on their nutrition. And please know that I do am not pretending that what they put in their bodies is trivial. But their hearts? That’s what really matters to me. And these hearts? These not-yet-six-year-old hearts are very full. So full of love and kindness that it’s overflowing. And they are looking for a place to send that love, and they are not only willing, but eagerto send it out into the world for strangers.

And that’s why I pick my battles. I cave about food ALL. THE. TIME. But the messages about love and kindness and generosity? I don’t ever get tired of teaching them that. And it never ceases to amaze me how much we grownups have to learn from them.

The homeless man had moved on by the time we got outside with his burger. But wouldn’t you know that this trio was ready to wander around the UES looking for the next person in need. It didn’t matter that it was nearly their bedtime. It didn’t matter that they’d put in a full (I’m talking ten hour) day at school and after school programs. It didn’t matter that it was freezing, and they were tired, and we’d missed the bus so we’d already walked a mile to get where we were. And you know what else didn’t matter? For those few minutes while my children led with love? How tired and stressed and sick this mama felt.

She was fairly easy to find. One of our three has been keeping a catalogue of the men and women in our neighborhood as we pass them on our way to and from school each day. We knew exactly where to look because our kids, our quiet, don’t-look-you-in-the-eye kids, may not say much, but they see everything. And everyone.
Anyone who has ever met our kids knows they don’t like talking to strangers. In fact, they’re often not too keen on talking to people they recognize. But they didn’t need to speak to this woman last night to let her know they cared.
It’s true what they say, you know: actions speak louder than words. Their actions spoke loudly last night. And I couldn’t have been more proud of the message they were delivering.

So this greasy paper bag on our messy kitchen counter? It’s a reminder that we may not be doing everything right, but I am pretty sure we are doing some things right. And I am pretty sure you are too.

Making Memories Part Two

 

IMG_1396Jack’s Christmas present from me was a trip to the Big Apple Circus. Just the two of us. I was nervous about how this might go…Jack has never exactly said, “You know what I REALLY want to do? Go to the circus!” But as luck would have it, one of the first things we saw after making our way across town on the bus was a cat. A real, live cat. Just hanging out on the sidewalk. With his owner. And a litter box. Only in New York, people. We hadn’t even made it to lunch yet when we happened upon this “moonieeeees!” as Jack affectionately called the cat. This was not the cat’s name. This is just what Jack has come to call all felines at this point. It would be very hard to explain via blog why or how Jack refers to them this way, but if you’ve spent any time with him over the past five years, you will know Jack loves cats (all species!) something fierce, and he can hardly contain his excitement when we find one in a book, let alone real life. You will also know that although he knows the word, “cat,” and he understands which animal “cat” refers to, he has never referred to them as such, and his strange pseudonym for the feline family is derived from the name of our former pet cat, Milo.

Enough about cats. I don’t even have a picture of this cat. I do know, however, that if you ask Jack about his favorite part of the circus, you will undoubtedly hear about the cat on the sidewalk before you hear about the trapeze artists or trampolinists.

After the random cat interaction on the sidewalk, we found a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria. Another NYC specialty.

I know it isn’t very glamorous, but one-on-one lunches are their own rare treat in this family, and everyone likes pizza, so pizza it is. Or was.

Once we got to the circus, we secured popcorn, a light-up souvenir, and our seats.

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How cool that the ringmaster is a woman, right?

First up were the horses.

IMG_1370I used to go to the Big Apple Circus almost every year as a child. A lot has changed since then, but I was just as mesmerized by the incredible feats of human strength and courage today as I was back then. From the trapeze artists to the trampolinists to the couple who literally balance on each other’s heads, the circus performers were pretty incredible to watch. There was a free standing ladder act, horizontal juggling, and a dog driving a car. I was partial to the acrobatics (particularly the aerial straps). Jack was a fan of the trampolines, the horizontal juggling, and the popcorn. And the sidewalk cat, of course.  Oh, and the the dog driving the car. Because honestly, who ISN’T a fan of that?

This is the husband-and-wife team known as “Duo Fusion” whose skill is called “Acro Balance” for obvious reasons. This woman is wearing HEELS while her husband balances on her back like that.

The team of trampoliners were a big hit. They use that wall in between to jump off of and onto, to walk up and over, and to flip onto.

It was hard to capture just how cool this was on camera because they were constantly in motion. But this was the only act about which Jack said, “I wonder if I could do that one day. That would be cool.”

And finally, the dog driving a car. It’s probably easier to teach a dog how to drive a motorized toy car than to learn how to fly through the air from one trapeze to another, but Jack was right, this was pretty great.

For me, the best part of these outings is getting to spend time with my favorite little people one-on-one. From the walk to the bus stop to the ride across the park to lunch at a pizza shop and an afternoon at the circus…all of those little moments add up to one really special afternoon that I know I will cherish for a long time. Long after we’ve forgotten what our favorite act was. Long after the souvenir has been broken or lost. I’ll remember how Jack ran around me in circles at the bus stop on the way home. How he laughed so hard while he ran that he suddenly had to pee. AGAIN. How we played the animal game on the bus ride (to distract him from his bladder) and how we both got stuck on the letter “n.” (Narwhal, duh). How he wouldn’t stop talking about that cat on the sidewalk. (And how I tried to explain the situation of the woman who appeared to be living there with him). How he couldn’t wait to tell Henry and Sophie what he’d seen. I’ll remember how we got to sit and eat pizza without anyone interrupting to tell “their version” of the story or to fill in the details they thought we’d forgotten. And how I held Jack’s hand as we walked without having to worry (or being reminded LOUDLY) that someone else was feeling left out. Life with triplets is pretty amazing. But an afternoon with just one of my kids? That’s priceless.

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It Wasn’t Perfect, But It Was Pretty Darn Cute.

The negotiations started weeks ago. One of our children needed ZERO encouragement to don a pretty outfit and perform in front of family and friends (I’ll let you decide which one). One of our children was pretty adamant about NOT participating in the wedding festivities. And one of our children fell somewhere in the middle: willing to fulfill his duties as flower boy, sort of excited about the outfit, but not quite as enthusiastic as the first.

Two participatory flower children would be a step up from the last family wedding they played a part in, but really, we were aiming for three. Their traditional Vietnamese wedding outfits (ao dais) has been custom made, and considering the flower child holdout was the godchild of the groom, getting him (or her) down the aisle felt like a high priority.

The negotiation went something like this:

Me: What if I gave you some Hershey kisses if you do your job at the wedding?

Child: 500 Hershey kisses!

Me: That’s too many.

Child: 100!

Me: How about 20?

Child: Woah. Ok! Twenty’s a lot!”

The math teacher in me cringed a bit at her offspring’s poor number sense, but the mother in me was thrilled to be emerging victorious (if bribing your child with twenty Hershey kisses can be considered a victory) from this negotiation.

The rehearsal did not go very well. Despite the promise of a score of Hershey kisses, two-thirds of our crew followed through with their flower child obligations, and one barely made it down the aisle with a lot of (literal) hand-holding from Mom. This was not the plan.

Considerations for alternative scenarios commenced immediately, and we spent the next twenty-two hours preparing ourselves for Plan B: three flower children and one Mom or Plan C: two flower children.

And then, at 1:30pm yesterday, without any mention of Hershey kisses, our holdout asked to suit up. Nevermind that it was a little too early to get dressed. Nevermind that there was a pretty big chance the ao dai would get wrinkled or stained before the ceremony. This kid wanted to get in his wedding outfit, and we were not going to stop him.

Two and a half hours later, they did what they had been asked to do. Quite literally. They threw the petals on the walkway (our efforts to distinguish between “throwing” and “sprinkling” came a bit late in the game) and went (RAN) to find Daddy at the end of the aisle. And while there may have been some Hershey kisses involved (only five!), those were really just a reward for a job well done.

I am so proud of my three little people for being so brave and for doing their job so well (which included sitting quietly–if not inconspicuously–throughout the ceremony). It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty darn cute.

And what a special, special day it was celebrating Uncle Andrew and Aunt Evelynn. We are so glad they got to be a part of it.

Smash Cakes

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Last Saturday, we celebrated the trips’ first birthday.

Jack was pretty excited about the prospect of a party.

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Sophie could barely contain her excitement.

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Even Henry cracked a smile.

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Just kidding, Henry! We know you smile all the time. Especially when Dad is around!

We had fifteen adults, four one-year-olds (okay, 75% of those were ours, but still…), one two-and-a-half-year-old, and one three-month-old in our apartment. Scratch that. In our living room/kitchen. It was packed!

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See?

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Of course Sophie wanted to make sure she didn’t miss out on any of the action.

Question: How many people can you fit in our baby jail?

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Answer: A LOT!

Of course we took advantage of having so many family members in one place, and with Henry, Jack, and Sophie dressed up in their birthday best, we had to try for some family photos!

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Nonno, Grammie, and the trio!

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Cousins! And Emi 🙂

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Sophie Ann and Lily Ann meet face-to-face for the first time. I have no doubt that these little ladies will hold their own up against the boys!

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I guess it’s a lot to ask to have all FIVE of us looking at the camera!2015-04-04 12.47.19

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SMASH CAKES!

If you’re new to first birthday bashes (or if it’s been a while since you celebrated one), you may not know about the “smash cake” tradition. I’m not sure where or when it started, but the idea is that your little bumpkin gets a cake of his or her own to explore, eat, play with…SMASH!

It is probably no surprise to any of you who know us, but it is now confirmed. Henry, Jack, AND Sophie like sugar.

     All in all, it was a smashing success! Pun intended.

The Choo Choo Wagon in action…watch out, world!