Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Triplet Haiku, vol. 2

Pizza falls face down.
What a mess - and bad word slips.
"Sit" chants Charlie. "Sit."

Uh oh...

Friday, April 24, 2009

Da Da ???

The boys LOVE looking at pictures of themselves and people they know on the computer.

This morning, I pulled up a photo of Granddad running. The photo was one of those "official snapshots" from a 10K that my dad and I ran last weekend. Zach immediately recognized granddad... "dand dad, dand dad," he chanted. Cooper immediately recognized the gentleman (wearing number 2636) running a few paces behind my father: http://www.backprint.com/view_user_event.asp?PID=bp%18sDz&EVENTID=51764&PWD=&BIB=3308. Cooper pointed at the gentleman and excitedly chanted "Da da Da da Da da."

It's not the first time that our children have misidentified daddy. Our boys have also mistaken Brian for a 6'5" bald African-American basketball player pictured in sports section. Easy mistake to make though. I get confused sometimes too. http://homepage.mac.com/kaaawa/iblog/C394583283/E20051101121807/Media/Fester.jpg

Ha ha - just kidding Brian. I love you!! Happy 5th anniversary!

Monday, April 20, 2009

Charlie's Bag

Charlie has a purse.

I first noticed Charlie's interest in handbags about a week ago, when he started dragging my purse out the door whenever I told the boys we were going bye-bye.

Then he started carrying his long-handled pink-and-yellow easter basket over his shoulder. At first I thought he was doing it because, well, just because. Now I'm pretty sure Charlie thinks it's his purse.* He picks the basket up, slings it over his shoulder (with a bit of gusto), looks at us, kisses his hand (his attempt at blowing kisses), and saunters off to the mudroom, chanting "bye bye, bye bye." Wonder where he thinks he is going... off to the Teeter for more free cookies, perhaps?

*Brian has requested that in the future we refer to the basket as Charlie's "briefcase." Not his purse.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009


Does this sound strange to you? Dr. Spock doesn't mention it...

Cooper plays possum. He acts dead to get our attention.

It started about a week after the trach came out. It goes like this: Cooper gets mad at something (usually involving Charlie, because Charlie is the bain of Cooper's existence these days). He screams for about 5 seconds, then falls to the ground, buries his face in the carpet or hardwood, and lies perfectly still. He got me the first time. I saw him lying still and rushed over to check on him. I leaned over and he turned his head up and smiled. GOTCHA. Silly me, I just thought you might have a plug in your trach and stopped breathing. Oh wait, the trach is gone...

Two days later, Brian watched the boys while I went to the Teeter. When I walked in the door, the first thing I heard was "have you seen Cooper play possum?"

Stinker. Got Daddy too. Clever little rascal...

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Life sans trach

Life without the trach rocks. The trach’s been gone 3 weeks, and this is my second week with the boys on my own - sans nurses, sans equipment. Just me and the boys during the day 'til daddy gets home. I was a little nervous about the transition at first -- after all, we’ve had nurses in our house for 18 hours a day since Cooper came home from the NICU. The nerves vanished the day we moved Cooper into his brothers’ bedroom. Can you believe that March 28 was the first night since Cooper was born that he slept without being hooked up to a machine of some sort?? No pulse-oximeter, no trach mist machine, and no nurse to monitor him and all of the dandy machines that came with the trach. So anyway, the nerves are gone, and I feel like a different person. No offense to any nurses reading this blog, but I love having my house, my privacy, and my baby back. There are so many things I can do now: dance with the boys like no one’s watching, walk around without pants (OK, so I don‘t actually walk around without pants on, but I could now if I wanted), go to bed at the same time as my husband (one of us always had to stay up and wait for the night nurse), and most importantly, I can just throw all the boys in the minivan whenever I want. And GO. Without equipment and without nurses (to make sure Cooper doesn't suddenly get a plug in his trach). And I can sing at the top of my lungs in the car. And despite the 3 little people constantly wrapped around my legs, I feel free for the first time since the boys were born. I am so unbelievably blessed to have 3 happy, healthy, beautiful little boys. It still makes me tear up to think of how crazy blessed we are.

But enough about me… naked-neck Cooper is a different child. About 4 days after the trach came out, he decided he was d-o-n-e with crawling. He chases Zach and Charlie now, laughs all the time, and many fewer melt-downs. He seems to feel better and have tons more energy. He looks great, too. The blow hole is slowly shrinking. We hope it will be closed up in a few months. For now, though, we still have to be careful in the bathtub and keep it covered all day, but that’s cake comparatively.

A couple of lessons learned lately (some the hard way) and a warning if you come to visit:

  • 3 toddlers in 1 grocery cart (even if it looks like a fun space ship) will last in the Harris Teeter about as long as it takes them to devour their free cookies. Just pretend you don’t notice the “1 cookie per customer please” sign.
  • Before you get to your minivan with all of the groceries you’ve purchased (which will be very few if you forego the free cookies), make sure none of your children are hiding packages of cheese between their legs. I had to make Charlie apologize to the store manager for smuggling Kraft singles.
  • It just isn’t possible to train 3 18-month-olds for their first Easter Egg hunt, even if you simulate the real thing in your backyard. Charlie actually got the whole pick-up-the-egg-and-put-it-in-your-basket thing. Zach seemed terribly offended at the thought of any eggs in his nice clean basket (and proceeded to throw out every egg we put in there). Cooper thought his basket was a hat.
  • Just because your kids are at the neighborhood Easter Egg hunt extravaganza, it doesn‘t mean it is OK for them to eat 2 (or was it 3???) cupcakes for dinner (each). And if they do, don’t be surprised by the volume or color of poop to follow.
  • And lastly, if you come to visit the Kahn household and your bare feet step on something squishy and cold, don’t worry. It’s just fruit cocktail. We still haven’t found all of it.