Race Recap

What do a dozen people dressed as reindeer, four wedding couples, a Japanese man wearing traditional  dress including wooden shoes, a lady dressed as a cake, and Darth Vader have in common? They all ran 26.2 miles today!

So I know I haven’t mentioned it lately, but the last four months I’ve been training for the Honolulu Marathon! Thankful for preschool (the most expensive training plan ever! Haha) , an amazing husband, and treadmills when needed, I made it through the entire 20 weeks uninjured and with all toenails intact.

Today was full of logistical craziness (babysitters arrived at 3, had to find a backway to the parking garage, walk a mile to the start line, and then fight the selfie takers to actually make it over the mat – more on that in a minute) but it was worth it and now that it’s over I need to research the races next year.

To start with, it was wet. Drizzly constant damp dreariness. To be fair, it felt pretty good (at first). When we got to the 20+ mph winds later and downpouring rain it wasn’t as much fun. After ditching the trash bag that kept me mostly dry on the walk to the start line, I joined in the selfie taking fun.


Finally the fireworks went off. They say the race starts at 5, and I’m sure for the front runners it does, but no one moves till the fireworks are over, and even then you fight crowds the whole way.


Who knew we were at a race start and not a rock concert with all the phones and cameras out?


From there, it wasn’t until about mile 13 that there was actually enough room on the road to maneuver easily. There were just so.many.people. It definitely would be hard to Boston qualify with the multitudes of people.

The race went pretty well from there, though. The sun came out and warmed us up every now and then (between downspurts), and around mile 17 I even found a yellow submarine. How can you not stop for a picture with a submarine?


And in true Hawaii fashion, we were graced with a rainbow!


From there it was just back up and over Diamondhead and on to the finish. I was actually on target for the time I wanted until mile 22. Someone in front of me collapsed and so I stayed to help until EMS arrived. Thankfully she should be just fine. Once I got up my muscles were not happy about having to get moving again, and it took a little while to get back into it. She kept telling me to go finish the race, and I promised her I would finish for her. This one is for you, Wanda!



And I found Darth Vader! Can you imagine running even 1 mile in a helmet?


Well, that’s all for now. I am eating all the food and researching races for next year. You know that’s when it’s bad is when you want to do another even while you can barely wiggle your toes without cringing 🙂

Things you’d think I would know by now

After 2 years of having multiples + an older brother, there are some things you’d think I’d know by now. Apparently not.

1) Always check the coffee cup before you refill it. Otherwise you’ll have beautiful glorious coffee with cereal floating in it. Then you have to make the choice of which is more important : the time it would take to brew more, or the possibility of your cereal tasting like peanut butter Puffins.

2) When you find a giant ball of yarn with a 1/10th finished blanket still on the needles, tying it off and giving the 1 foot wide blanket strip to your middle triplet is not smart. She will love it. And the other two will wonder where theirs is. Leading to you now knitting a second blanket (and more than likely a third so they all look the same).

3) It’s not worth the fight with boy triplet over whether or not boys wear bows in their hair. Inside the house, whatever it takes to keep the screaming to a minimum works. We’ll deal with the rest when we try to leave.

…. to be continued….

The days are long, but the years are short

People always say that. And I never believed it. Even with Aiden I didn’t really believe it. Partially because we were on sea duty with the Navy at the time, and between deployments and 18 hour work days, the years were long as well.

But with triplets+1 on shore duty? Each day lasts forever. I love my children, but I want even just half of their energy. I don’t know how they do it! But all of a sudden, I stand back, and I have three littles who aren’t even babies anymore. Technically, I guess as of Thursday, they’re “toddlers.” I don’t quite understand that term as they don’t toddle any where – they run full speed and jump off it – but none the less, they cannot any longer be called babies (at least not by anyone else. They’ll ALWAYS be my babies).

How in the world did we get here? People always say it must have been so hard as infants. They are wrong. Sure, we were tired. But we still are! And sure, we had no time to ourselves. But we still don’t! Now? They don’t stay where they’re put, they yell and complain about everything, and they already think they know the best way to do something (even though it likely will take twice as long).

Last night Jaina wanted in the high chair at dinner. So she climbed up and in. And then got frustrated it wasn’t where she wanted it. I swear she would have climbed out, fixed it, and climbed back in had we let her.

And Valerie chooses her own shoes now. There is no amount of persuasion capable of convincing her that one pair is better suited for a situation.

And Jacen? He finished his dinner. Went to his sister’s chair (the pink one), finished hers. Went to his other sister’s chair (the purple one), finished that. Went to his brother’s chair, finished that. And asked for more. What word is most important to a 2 year old boy? MORE.

Aiden? He’s realized his babies can play with him now. And he gets them to do everything he’s not supposed to, joins in, and then argues “But the babies are doing it!” Well played.

Now? We’ve got 3 (almost) 2-yr-olds, a 5 year old, and craziness ahead with heading back to the “real” world of Navy submarine life. I’m sure the stories will get more interesting, and the adventures more exciting. This will be an exciting next year! But I may pretend, at least for today, that Thursday isn’t approaching as fast as it is!

Are you kidding me???

So, I’m sure you’ve all heard of or seen it by now, but last year a movie came out that was pure genius on many levels.

First, it had triplets.

Second, they were mischievous. AND they turned into bears. (That should actually be a point in and of itself)

Third, it had a female heroine. I’m all for princesses and white knights on horses coming to their aid, sometimes. But a good story with a female saving the day and rectifying mistakes? Awesome.

If you haven’t figured out what I’m talking about yet, it’s

And I loved it. My kids loved it. Most adults and children alike that I know? Loved it.

She was strong. Courageous. A wicked shot with a bow and arrow. She had attitude, perseverance, and best of all? She looked normal. Children could relate to her. Her hair was frizzy at times. She didn’t wear much makeup (if any). She wore a dress size that is actually made and not a size 0 taken in three inches to suit a 12″ waist.

And guess what? She was recently chosen to be Disney’s 11th Princess. How cool is that??

And then I saw her “make-over.”

Because she wasn’t beautiful enough already, they chose to do this:

Why?? Why, in the world, is that necessary at all?? Firstly, she hated the fancy dress in the movie, so it doesn’t even suit her personality. But secondly, which one would you prefer your young, impressionable daughter to want to imitate? A princess who has a modest dress, bow and arrows at the ready? Or one whose dress is about to fall off a shoulder and is too concerned about her lipgloss to remember to bring her bow with her hunting?

Another site, A Mighty Girl, has launched a petition here.

Sign it. For your daughters. And theirs. And to let Disney know what is really beautiful in the world is a strong, self-sufficient, girl, who might also be a beautiful princess, but is also brave, courageous, and (while strong-willed) is strong in conviction.

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Sneaky little children

When you first get pregnant, every one tells you about what to expect. From night feedings, to first milestones, someone somewhere has advice. Often conflicting advice, but advice none-the-less.

Then as your baby starts to crawl, you are educated on the dangers of baby-proofing the house. They warn you about marbles, small legos, delicate objects placed precariously on a counter just in arms reach… They warn you about doors and stairs and wobbly old chairs.

And then your child gets older. They warn you about the “terrible twos” and the “trying threes” and tantrums, time out, 1-2-3 magic, Love and Logic, and a hundred other parenting styles.

What no one EVER tells you about is how sneaky they can be.

So here are some lessons for you:

1) They can climb. And if a window is open, they will start to play with the screen as if plotting an escape.

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2) They like to copy each other. If you have more than one? Good luck.

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3) They look cute an innocent. But really they’re plotting against you. Don’t let the sweet faces (and dresses courtesy of an amazing neighbor) fool you.


4) If there is an object to help them gain a height advantage, they will use it. Not only that, but they will pick it up, carry it halfway across the room, place it in the perfect location, and then retrieve the Wii remote that they’ve wanted all day.


5) If you pin daddy down and get him to hold one child, the other two can then jump in and try to steal the items they wanted. All objects are fair game. A chair leg. A daddy leg. A box on the floor. Doesn’t matter. If it adds height, it’s worth the risk.


I’m sure I’ll have an addendum as they learn to coordinate more effectively and become a force to be reckoned with.

Signing off while I’m still in charge and haven’t been overthrown by the horde.

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You have to start somewhere

My husband and I talk about this all the time, but this site reminded me about it today. If you haven’t checked out Tales of an Unlikely Mother, you should.

Imagine this. You’re hungry. And really really really don’t feel like cooking. But you’ve got young children (number here doesn’t matter, just that they’re younger than considered old enough to behave appropriately in public on their own accord). You could (not that I’ve ever ever ever done this) have cereal for dinner. You could order pizza/takeout/delivery. Or you could go to a restaurant.


Sure, it won’t always be perfect. Sometimes you might show up and they only have one or two high chairs. It’s possible to improvise, or be patient, or, yes, you could go somewhere else. But it’s manageable.

Sometimes? You might have to consider asking them to just box the food and take it to-go, because the waiter didn’t realize that when you asked for the kids’ drinks and food ASAP, you didn’t mean 20 minutes later, scalding hot, with no cold plates in sight. Upside? Chugging beer for the first time since college.


Sometimes? You might get through the meal, the waiter is taking too long to bring the check, and one parent takes the kids out to the car and gets them buckled while the other patiently waits.

Sure, you might have to put a little more than your usual 20% tip for good service because while the service wasn’t the best you’ve ever had, your children’s food all over the floor and mashed in between seats calls for a little extra.

Note: I am not saying you have to, but I always try to pick up at least a little bit (or until someone sees me and tells me to stop). It’s just the nice thing to do especially on the messiest of days.

And sometimes? They will astound you. Dinner the other night, we sat down at a nice table. They played quietly with their forks. Drank their water without spilling too much. Ate their food. We had polite conversation (albeit a little loud once in a while). And then we walked out of there with brother and sister holding hands like civilized people.

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And you might have to bribe coerce guide them with sweedish fish to get them to follow you back to the car rather than diving off the wharf to swim with the sea lions.

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Some times will be epic failures, but you’ll get better at it. And they will. And it’ll be great! Start early. Start often. They’ll learn quickly (probably quicker than you will) and some day when you’re just not up for cooking the thought of braving public for dinner won’t seem worse than cooking does.

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Video games

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It’s funny the things that we are accustomed to doing, and what we swear we’d never let our kids do, and then we realize, you know what? It’s OK.

We play video games. We use electronics. Honestly, we have way too many in the house. Two computers, two tablets, a laptop (that is rarely used, but might be dragged out more that the kids get older), an iPhone, a Wii, Xbox 360, and various vintage video game consoles that we even have an old analog TV to play them on. This includes an Atari. Seriously. Like I said – TOO MANY.

But that’s getting sidetracked. I always swore that I wouldn’t let my kids be addicted to electronics. How I planned on accomplishing that, in this day and age, I have no idea. I mean, I’m not sure the last time I used a paper address book, touched a phone book, or used a real life map. Actually, I did use a phone book last week. I was on the cell phone talking to someone getting a phone number for a whale watching place online and the power went out. My first thought was, “Yikes! What do I do?!” And then I realized that there was a phone book still sitting on my front porch. I think it was delivered a few weeks ago maybe? Sure enough, you can still find a phone number in that archaic item. Can you believe it?

And I’m not sure that my oldest believes that you can find your way from one place to another using a highlighter, map, a few quick calculations of distances, and maybe a ruler should you want to be more precise than using the guestimate tactic.

But when it comes to video games, they see us play them. Sure, we limit the violent ones to after bedtime (first person shooter games, etc). And we try to limit how much they actually see us on the computer or phone. But it happens. They know it’s there. So we bought Aiden his very first video game.

And it is a MAJOR hit.

At first I was a bit worried about what he would be learning/doing/experiencing. I mean, how could an electronic game that is not designed to be educational really teach him anything?

Boy was I wrong.

So far we’ve learned: How to read a map, how to follow directions, how to problem solve, dexterity, how to listen to instructions, how different characters have different abilities, what the international sign for a hospital is, and that sharks live in the ocean. We’ve also learned how to use a ray gun, change the color of a sign, blow up buildings with dynamite, and all the other good things that a Lego game can teach us. We pretty much refer to it as grand theft auto for kids, as you can drive a car around and run over pretty much anyone and anything.

But in the end? He does twice as many chores in the house to earn time playing. We have imaginary play pretending to be superheroes and cops and space men. I can get laundry done without him getting excessively bored. We can read long books to him without him getting fidgety, and he actually pays attention.

So yeah. I take back any snide comments I ever made pre-kids about “those” parents that let their kids play video games. Now, a game boy at the restaurant table is pushing it over the line. And letting your kid play 10 hours a day where they get obese because they don’t play outside is too much. But a little bit every day? Where I can drink my coffee in peace? And maybe even have a good excuse to play the Wii while he’s awake without him getting upset he doesn’t know how? Totally worth it.

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Real life

I want to live in the Facebook-Pinterest-Blogging world. Forever.

Because, you know those days where you wake up, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the children are well behaved, you go to a play date and look like super mom with it all under control, and come home happy and well rested from a few moments of adult conversation? Yeah, neither do I.

Seriously. Only online does the world look that way. Smiling faces, tidy playrooms, neat home-made decorations for every.single.holiday. Parenting choices are always made with the best of intentions and they are made with the best of results.

In the real world? Totally not so.

We post the pictures like this:


Instead of the ones where a child is hitting the other over the head with the puzzle because THEY HAD IT FIRST.

Or the ones like this:


Instead of the one where big brother attempts to splash little sister with the hose, little sister attempts to dump cup of water over other sister’s head, and the younger brother tries to drown himself in the water blowing bubbles (not so successfully).

Because, let’s face it – we want to pretend we’re the perfect parent. We have our lives in order, our children walk calmly in a line following us like baby ducklings. And life is perfect.

No wonder we all feel like giant failures on a daily basis!

So from now on, just know that I, like many other parents, are right there with you. Sure, I’m a mom of triplets, but don’t let that fool you – I don’t have my act together any better than the rest of you. I just know when to fight it and when to let life happen. Because wearing the same pair of pajamas for the second day in a row (without clean daytime clothes in between) won’t kill anyone. And that peanut butter cracker dropped on the ground? Yeah, it’s still probably cleaner than the mulch they tried to eat 5 minutes ago. Oh, and that fun happy lunch play date? Yeah – I might try that again in two months. Right around the time I forget how much I wanted to drink and hide in the bathroom upon coming home.


Thank God only one of them knows enough to figure that out yet. And the other three will just think they haven’t figured out the door knob 100%, not that mommy locked them out.

Because, you know what? Us multiples moms don’t have it put together more than the rest of you. Nor are we just that much better parents that we can do it where you can’t. We just learn to let the little things slide more, take photos of only the good stuff, and drink the rest away. Cheers!

Nursing in Public

I am not nearly this eloquent. Nor do I have the time to look up the photos, the links, and then write all of it.

But I have to share this link.

She makes a very valid point.


I don’t have any photos, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t be sharing. But that’s not the point. When they are this tiny and cute, how can anyone ever be rude about how you choose to feed them?!

You’d think in today’s day and age of acceptance, tolerance, freedom of choice, sexuality, relationship statuses, and everything else, how a mother chooses to feed her children would be the least of anyone’s concerns. Or not a concern of theirs at all. I’ve never once seen a mother who is a fan of nursing ask a mother who is bottle feeding to “take them to the bathroom, that is indecent to do in public.” I have, however, heard that comment to a nursing mother at a restaurant. Thankfully, not directed at me, because I’m pretty sure I’d have gone mama bear on their ass. But none-the-less, people need to get over it. Babies are cute and adorable. That’s all that really matters is that they’re fed, loved, and taken care of. And wouldn’t you prefer a quietly feeding baby (bottle or breast) to one screaming bloody murder in the booth next to you at a restaurant? Or movie? Or store? I know I sure would!

Midnight journal entry of Darth Hulk

Editor’s note: This entry comes courtesy of Darth Hulk, otherwise known as Jacen, after his latest escapade to the living room well after bedtime hour has passed. I just realized, however, I’ve never explained Darth Hulk’s nickname, and will have to rectify that in the near future.

So tonight, I just didn’t feel like sleeping. Mommy tried to put us to bed early because of something known as a time change. Doesn’t she understand that what really happens is now we have an excuse to stay up late AND get up early for at least a week?

Anyhoo, so there I am playing in my bed and the pink one decides to wake up and start crying. Sweet! That means that mommy and daddy will coming running because she NEVER cries. I might as well join in on this fun! When mommy came in, she looked around the room, and I sprang to the edge of the cage they keep me in (they think it’s humane to call it a crib, but the only difference is they haven’t put a top on it. Little do they know they’ll need that soon) to say hi. With some tears down my face (and a giant grin that she came), she picked me up. This, of course, meant that the pink one got upset and was released as well. And the other sister was awoken by the commotion. Mommy is nicer than daddy. He would have left us all there. Mommy? She’s a sucker. She picked up all 70+ pounds of us and carried us to the couch.


I don’t really get why the pink one was so sad at this point. I mean, really, daddy had a camera and mommy was holding us. What could be better?

Anyhoo, so there we are, and daddy sits down with us. He offers his lap. The purple one was still sleepy and not quite realizing the opportunity, and the pink one was upset. So I jumped at the chance. Literally. I tried to jump over my sisters. They didn’t like that too much. And then I got happy play time in daddy’s lap! He tickled me, and I made mommy laugh so much she cried! Then I realized that sissy (the pink one, not the purple one) was RIGHT there. I mean, like a centimeter away. So I started inching my leg towards her. Laughing. Daddy started a running commentary that was pretty accurate. “I’m not touching you! I’m not touching you! Hehehe, I’m kicking you, hehehe” She didn’t appreciate it too much. So he dragged me away. Then I tried to hit her with the remote. She didn’t like that either. Then I tried to head butt her. But not complete – just ALMOST touching her, not actually. I’m not too sure why I got in trouble for that one, I didn’t actually touch her! SO, I figured at that point since I was in trouble anyways, I might as well.

Then she farted at me. Daddy said she was imagining Monty Python as she did it, thinking,

Only mommy said it should be lingonberries instead of elderberries since we had Ikea earlier today. Daddy said that wasn’t accurate from the movie. I don’t really get what it is they’re talking about. They don’t show us the good movies yet.

At that point they decided I was laughing too much and it was time for bed.

Clearly I should work on holding back the humor just a bit next time, so I can get at least 10 minutes of respite from that cage crib… Till next time!

Darth Hulk  Jacen