I started the babies on oatmeal yesterday. My mother’s intuition was telling me that it was time based on the babies’ hunger levels and the fact that while I was eating with Preston sitting on my lap he took his little arm and flung it with all of his might at my plate and knocked it over. It was obvious to me that he wanted a little bit of ravioli with marinara sauce. The boy is ready for something a little more exciting than breastmilk and formula.
Chris is back from his trip down in Southern California. He was gone from Monday to Wednesday and so big momma was holding down the Woolsey Possie fort for a few days, begrudgingly on my own. The first night my dad came to help. From 4pm to bedtime at 6:30 or 7 is so chaotic in our house. I mean really busy. The babies don’t really sleep during this time and they are extra hungry for some reason. It is a long few hours. Well, we had some fussy babies Monday night so I took Elsa upstairs to change her and get her ready for bed. While I was doing this Violet and Preston were screaming downstairs. I felt badly for my dad stuck with two screaming babies. When I came downstairs he had a screaming baby in each arm walking them around the house. It just made me laugh. I thought, I bet my dad never thought he would find himself in this particular situation holding a screaming baby in each arm. We ended up with happy babies shortly as I fed them and my dad rocked them to sleep. It worked well.
The second night my sister came and we tag teamed and entertained babies from 2pm to 7pm with hardly a nap. I thought my poor sister was going to go into labor right then and there. She is 8 months pregnant and according to her doctor she has an extra large fetus in there with a huge head. She wants him out now. I told her she should spend a little more time at the Woolsey house carrying around triplets, lifting triplets, walking triplets up and down the stairs 40- times a day and she will surely go into labor.
I love to compare the triplets. I read all these books before I delivered the babies and most of them said that we shouldn’t compare the triplets against one another. I don’t even remember why I just remember I am not supposed to do that but I do it every day. I love comparing them. That is part of the fun of having higher order multiples is to be able to cherish their similarities and differences. So today I asked Nanny Laura who she thinks is the easiest baby overall. She thought for a couple of seconds and decided upon Violet. Violet was my pick also. She is the greatest sleeper ever. Easy to put down and wakes up with a huge smile on her face always when she sees you. She doesn’t get angry when her food doesn’t arrive immediately. She is happy and friendly and likes to laugh at the world around her. She entertains herself well. She is not very fussy. She doesn’t generally spit up. She is an easy baby.
Then we rated Elsa as second easiest baby. She is so darn cute and sweet and loves to talk and burst out in quick laughter. She is loving and cuddly and eats her bottle well. She plays well by herself for a while. The thing that landed Elsa second place instead of first is how she goes absolutely agro when she is hungry. If that bottle takes more than 1 minute to get to her mouth when she decides she is hungry all hell breaks loose. She is also a little whiny, which is really cute now. And she take sa little more effort to get to sleep.
My sweet sensitive boy Preston is last but not least on the easy baby triplet scale, although he has had moments in time where he has been the easiest. Preston is so adorable and looks at everyone with such love in his eyes. He has this giggle that just makes you giggle right along. He is an excellent eater. What placed him last on the list is his high maintenance temperment of late. He loves to be held all the time and is hard to get to sleep. When he isn’t puking all over us he is sucking on our arm, drool running down like a river all day. The poor boy must be teething. Even though he came in last place for the easy baby contest, he is still a fantastic baby. He is momma’s boy.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.
Woolsey Family Chronicles 