Dtek Industries

We are in the world of transition now. Feats, large and small, evolutions, revolutions, continental shifts, and alien invasions, fingers, thumbs, stiff chubby legs, the spring semester starting for me, Suzy restarting her pursuit of an MA on Monday nights--these are all common to us now, hardly even registering. If something didn't change, or so it seems to me--that would be what stood out.


But Suzy and I aren't fretting. You mustn't imagine that we are awash and crying in despair, hoping we might regain the bank of our former lives. No, we're having a ball. Wonderful surprises each way we look, new realities like proofs of becoming, and some of the loudest infant farts you have ever heard. Yes, sometimes I'm surprised I don't see a baby rocket across the room. It seems like daily we catch ourselves laughing more genuinely than we ever had before--usually at one of the boys barking out his first attempts at speech or at Scout kicking her legs and sticking out her tongue. Man, we are lucky, and we know it, falling in love every day with the miraculous--with three little miracles each unfolding on our living room floor.


Now, posting to the blog has been difficult, but not really because it is hard to note anything, nor for the lack of time. We're up tempo, but use to it. Rather, I bought a new computer and have been trying to figure out how to use it. But I think I'm getting it now.


Here is my first foray with iMovie (--fair warning: the following is not for the faint-hearted, or the far-sighted):


It was actually Thursday, not Sunday, and the chief actor is Sara Lew, not Suzy (in case any of you think Suzy changed since last you saw her). Actually, Suzy and Lewie's fiance Chris were the ones filming.


And thanks Mochi for showing me the ropes with iMovie.


Hopefully, this will be the first of many future projects.

Well, not to be outdone, Kiefer rolled over the day after I wrote the last post. He said, "You guys get excited about the simplest stuff. You want a roll? There! There's a roll for you." He turned askance, "Now, maybe we can concentrate on the big stuff again." By "big stuff" I think he was referring to the fact that he is still our biggest--almost a pound heavier than Charlie, almost three pounds heavier than Scout, and taller than both also. In the charts, adjusted for his early birth, he is in the 50th percentile, while the other two are struggling to be counted at all. Yes, an accomplishment indeed. Sorry for taking my eye off the ball, Kiefer (--translation: Please don't beat me up when you are full grown.)
So, yea, this means we have been to the doctor again for measurements and for the next round of shots--OUCH! Great story here: We're still in the "golden age," so the babes are smiling a lot--both the boys smiling despite being deprived a nap for the doctor's appointment--Scout not quite so happy. Well, I had Charlie and Kiefer on the table and was talking to them, while Suzy pacified the princess. We knew what the three little people were in for, and we knew they weren't going to like it. Nevertheless, I told the boys it was good for them, like climbing mountains--Nietzsche's "What does not kill me..." running through my head. Of course, it was not the meaning I was trying to impart--just the truth of it--that is, my tone, I realized, could be both encouraging and honest. My mini-lecture was whittled down to a simple repetition of the word yes. Yes, I said, yes, from my mouth to your ear, from eye to eye, level and true, yes. Then, for the first time ever, the two of them started giggling together--laughing with each other more than at me. Man, it was great--our first moment of contagious laughter. And then, the nurse came in. Suzy brought the sleepy Scout to the table, and placed her on the other side of Kiefer: the shots would simply go down the line, starting with Charlie on the right. The oral vaccine was first, strange but saccharine. Suzy blew in Charlie's face to trigger his swallow. And then, stab: holy hell burst into his left thigh, once, and twice, and then a third and final shot leapt into his right thigh. Ohhhhh! He sceamed. Suzy melted. I stood beyond. Then, right there, it happened. Only a few minutes after sharing their first laugh, there, at the tip of a syringe, Kiefer joined Charlie in their first sympathy cry. Ohhhh, Kiefer wailed also, and was, though untouched, chock-full of his brother's pain. Amazed, I stepped to Kiefer to comfort him, and then, just for good measure, Scout starting crying too. It was terrible, and it was wonderful--beautiful. I smiled. What did I ever know of empathy? What connection have I experienced such as these three have and will always have between them? Four months old and already revealing the world to me...Kiefer got his shot, and Scout hers, each welling up and red with more pain than the face can contain, blaring. Their cry lasted less than a minute though. Charlie, who had turned pale with either shock or exhaustion, still cried in my arms. But his pain passed too. We fed, got some lactation advice, went home, took tylenol and slept heavily for an hour or two. And then, it was right back to smiling, big bright smiles that opened the world again. I am convinced that our natural, most instinctual mental state is joyful--joyfully grateful--joyfully gratefully perfectly alive. Yes! Yes, indeed. Scout and Charlie had subsequent fevers, but slept through the night once down, and Kiefer woke early (5:00 AM), but was able to hold out until the first feeding. Presently (9:00 PM, the following night), they are back on schedule, sleeping soundly, about to be given their "dream feed," and each as healthy as can be.Happy new year to all of you, from the five of us. Congratulations, especially, to Chuck and Sheryl (engaged), Chris and Sara (engaged), Sarah and Mike (pregnant), K and Hiedi (pregnant), and, of course, to Jonny D and Jamie (also pregnant). Life advances yet, strong as ever. Bring on 2010. Oh, and keep an eye open for new videos of the babies here. I have the means to produce them now. Hooray!

Well, the first large-person accomplishment is also the reason I haven't written for a while: I finished the fall semester. Yep, I am officially on winter break. The babes are rounding their fourth month of life, our volunteer system has run its course (--great thanks to all our volunteers for helping us make the initial adjustment) and Suzy's wearing her old jeans (--into which she must tuck a wonderful deposit of wrinkly belly skin). But bigger still, is the fact that Suzy has successfully breastfed triplets all the way up to this point. We are now just beginning to supplement with formula--two ounces mixed with three to four more ounces of breastmilk for the baby on the bottle. Suzy still pumps after each feeding, in addtion to waking at 3:00 AM every night to pump some more, but the demand exceeds the output and has exhausted our frozen milk surplus. Four months. With triplets. Incredible. Well done, Suzy. All in all, what a great start these three thumbsuckers have had. But let's get to the fun stuff: the small-person accomplishments. All three are pooping-peeing-sleeping happy people. Both Charlie and Scout have rolled over from front to back (--Charlie has rolled right and left). Kiefer, not so much so.

"Yea, precocious this," says Kiefer (--note the left hand).Both Charlie and Kiefer have also laughed, and no one can make them laugh like Grandma Martha--she's so funny--looking. Well, Charlie also thinks the guy in the mirror is hilarious. (We have videos of them laughing which I plan to post once I have the means to do it.) Let's see, what else? They are just so alert and observant. Under the play-gym, lying next to each other, grabbing at each other's ears, or taking a tour of their bedroom, looking at each of the monsters on their wall, these three are amused by everything. Charlie has even shown me a thing or two in Scrabble.But make no mistake about it, these three are not in competition. No, they're in cahoots. I think their plotting something...

More coming soon. Happy Holidays to you all. Hope Santa treats you right. Hope you have a ball with your loved ones. Oh, and a special shout out to our friends abroad, especially Fang Fang. Yours is the best encouragement I know for this blog. Thanks.

We're rounding our third month and the kids are doing wonderfully. In fact, we are headed into what one of our baby-bibles calls "the golden age." This doesn't mean that Suzy and I are, on account of having to care for triplets, basically 80 years old and retired already--aging like dogs--in space. No, the fourth month of life, according to What to Expect: The First Year, begins "a period of several enchanted months when good humor reigns during the day, more sleep is happening at night, and independent mobility has yet to be achieved"--yea, you know, the period right before what Dante calls "the 9th circle of Hell." Well, caring for the babies doesn't always seem to go by the book, but with a long view, that's pretty much exactly what's happening, and this "golden age" is a case in point--and we're loving every minute of it. Man, the kids are smiling, cooing, almost talking (--Charlie had a three or four minute one-sided jibber-jabber converstation with our friend Chris last night--I tried to get Charlie to duplicate the performance today, talking to him like a baby does, and he looked at me like, "What kind of language is that?"). And yes, they're sleeping well (five nights in a row, anyway), and the only mischief they have gotten into involves inadequate diapers (--Luvs and Pampers are our favorite--Huggies, not so much). I know I said the little people are pass the cute stage in my last post, but, boy, they are proving me wrong with a vengeance. Check out the pics. With direction from Charlie's PT (--he has torticollis), we're doing a lot of tummy time now by propping them up on a boppie, or on one of their siblings, in Keifer's case (the big brute).








Cute is an understatement, I think you will agree. (Oh, and those hand-woven sweaters were made by Molly Shea's mother, who coincidentally was one of our at-risk OB-GYN nurses.)





Now, sleeping as well as they are, we are not feeding them as frequently as we once were, which made Suzy a bit concerned whether or not they were eating enough. Bound and determined to get them weighed before our next appointment, she and her mother, who both don't own a quality scale, took the kids to the grocery store, where they attempted to weigh each in the fruit and vegetable scales. That had to be hilarious. Not totally satisfied, however, Suzy and Carla (one of our morning volunteers) took the thumbsuckers the next day into Kaiser and had them weighed properly. Good news for us all: the grocery store scales are pretty accurate--though they tried to charge us as much for Scout as they did Kiefer--those thieves. Anyway, as of last week: Kiefer was 11 lbs, 3 on; Charlie was 10 lbs, 10 on; and Scout was 9 lbs. The verdict: they're growing fine. I was not concerened, myself, mainly because of the poops and pees. Scout's last diaper almost knocked me out, actually--she's digesting something in there!Lest I seem all euphemism and embellishment, let me report: yes, we have had a few bumps along the way, and, yes, Suzy has battled fatigue once and again, and, sure, microscopically, her nipples must both look like Jean Claude Van Daam's face at the end of Bloodsport. But it's really not as bad as anyone might imagine. Yea, some people come in and ask, "Are you surviving?", only to listen incredulously to our answer. But if you are truly wondering, up to this point, at least, we are just having a ball, thriving--thrilled--feeling like we're doing well by our three new additions. I'm not saying Suzy isn't amazing. She is--there's no question. But it's her almost impregnable positivity more than any show of heroic suffering that convinces you. What a spirit--what health of mind and body. Amazing!Regardless, one thing is for certain: Suzy and I could not have any "golden" age or instant or glimmer of a sense of one but for your love and support. Unsure of tomorrow, we are just loving our today, and are only frustrated to think how poor we are in thanks. I hope you know that there, where we fall short in gratitude, we overrun with belief in the goodness of this world: it's as wonderful, as golden as our children--this world--equal to all three in every way, and you, family, friends, and strangers, are our proof to that. For all it could be worth, thanks.