DeStefanos

Santa Visit

2011-12-15T18:19:00.000-08:00

Yep, we did it--we took the kids to see the big man himself. We met Grandma Martha in JC Penny's west parking lot, and with her help, escorted the kids to the North Pole in the center of Park Meadows mall. We waited for about an hour, took in the ambiance of that good ol' Ameri-terialistism, and then, at last, found ourselves in a slow-moving line to see Santa Claus.

Now, I have been preparing the kids for X-mas, really since Thanksgiving: "Who's this?" "Santa!" "What's he say?" "Ho ho ho." I now even have Scout saying, "Merry Tistmas." And all three of them are just crazy about lights.

But, of course, I stepped it up today. Right when I got home, I tried to get them acclimated to the whole idea of Jolly Ol' St. Nicholas. "On whose lap are you going to sit?" "Santa's." "When he asks you what you want for Christmas, what are you going to say?" Kiefer's answer: "Big Count." Charlie's: "No-man" (that's "Snowman" to the lay person). And Scout's answer: "Purple"--that's right, Scout wants an adjective.

Anyway, the hope was that with enough practice, visualization, and genuine ebullience, we might actually have an enjoyable encounter (or at least Scout might--possibly?...).

The result?

Score: Daddy: 0/ Nature: 3.

Kiefer was the first to sit on Santa's lap, and was actually amenable to it--at first. Scout approached for a second, then turned and clasped Mommy's leg. And Charlie--well, he wouldn't even go into the room. By the time I swept Charlie up, Kiefer had exploded, and Suzy was saying, "Hurry, Joe!" I quickly deposited Charlie on Santa's right leg, and then grabbed Scout to put her in the middle. Santa, no doubt tired after a long long day, quietly stammered, "W-w-wait--not all three--you're not putting a-all three on me..." Before he knew it, though, he had latched his fingers around Scout's waist, and it was "Look-at-the-photographer-shaking-a-tambourine" time. Yea, go back up to the picture, and check out Santa's face again. That's not a smile. He's mortified--afraid he might drop one or all of the babies--and Scout (look at her arms)--she is doing everything in her power to make sure he does...

...Oh man, it was hilarious!

Now, I know you haven't heard from us in a while.

Well...we're baa-aack!

As you might guess, the tempo just keeps increasing, or we're putting more pots on more fires. In any case, it's getting expensive...

Here's a quick update for you (baseball-card style):

Scout

Nickname: Scouty

Age: Two

Weight: 21 lbs

Height: 2' 8''

Speech: Can't pronounce the "K" sound.

Interests: Writing, Coloring, Reading, Talking, Tissing (--she tisses everything, like cardboard cutouts of Elephants at the grocery store), Dancing, Dressing herself, Bossing Daddy around, and putting herself into time-out (actually, it's the returning suddenly chipper that she loves--think we need to stop celebrating it so much)

Dislikes: Washing hair, Washing face, Being dressed (by anyone), Peas, Ice, and Santa.

Favorite Food: Everything (other than peas), especially if it involves dipping.

Favorite Animal: Zebra

Favorite Song: "The Wheels on the Bus"

Favorite Book: The Napping House (--reminds us all of Granny DeStefano, in fact)

M.O.: Doing for herself (dressing, getting into her car-seat, scooping her own food onto her fork--"No," she says, "My do it.")

Kiefer

Nickname: Doo

Age: Three (according to him anyway)

Weight: 26 lbs

Height: 2' 9''

Speech: Has something of a lisp, but is the most syntactically adept (just recently taking over Scout's long-held top rank there)

Interests: Throwing (anything), Footballs, Talking, Jumping, Being Naughty, Trucks (backhoes, especially), Sculpting Play-Doh (and mixing the colors), Making Charlie laugh, and, bestest of all, Mommy

Dislikes: Yogurt, Snow, Ice, Halloween, Diaper rash, Sharing, and Santa

Best Joke: Hitting himself in the head, or flopping on the ground.

Favorite Food: Raisins

Favorite Animal: Hippo

Favorite Book: My First Trucks Picture Book

Favorite Song: "Twinkle Twinkle"

M.O.: Throwing footballs up into the sky.

Charlie

Nickname: Bird

Age: Two (and he can almost show you with his fingers)

Weight: 25 lbs

Height: 2' 8''

Speech: Can't pronounce the "S" sound (hence, the "No-man")

Interests: Laughing (usually at Kiefer), Catching, Shooting basketballs, Shooting soccer balls, Dancing (the famed "move"), Stacking, Organizing, Kissing with fish-lips, Helping people up the front step, and Cuddling (with Mommy, of course)

Dislikes: The moon, (s)no(w), Ice, Wind, Halloween, and (you guessed it) Santa

Best Joke: Scrunching his nose and/or throwing his voice

Favorite Food: Pasta

Favorite Animal: Giraffe

Favorite Book: Go Dog Go

Favorite Song: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (just joking)--probably "Rudolph" right now (--might have something to do with Mikey, whom they all love)

M.O.: Getting kisses on injured body parts

Suzy & Joe

Nicknames: Mommy and Daddy

M.O.: Loving parenthood. Just loving it! And, of course, grateful as can be (for your loves, as much as for anything else).

Thanks for keeping up with us.

With all our hearts: Happy Holidays to you.

Or as Scout might say, "Merry Tistmas to all, and to all a night night."

Press the Reset Button

2011-06-29T19:26:00.000-07:00

I suppose we're coming to terms with life

...again.

We were initially flabbergasted, totally unsure what was coming our way and whether or not we could handle it. That sense never really diminished from that first ultra-sound through the first few weeks of their lives; though, of course, we also became more and more enthusiastic (--and not merely because we had to--no, Suz and I, even before we met each other, thrilled at the idea of parenthood; and the moment you meet your own child, I am sure you all know, is the same moment you can't have the world without her). But eventually, wondrously, the tempo normalized and, all in all, the truth of raising triplets seemed so much less fearful than its prospect. (Funny to think, amid the sleep training, and breast feeding, and the squeezed hours--the squeezed space, sick nights, shots, and sloshing through Suzy's blood on delivery day--funny to think that none of that registers much anymore. I guess you can't be daunted looking back.)

And we grew proud. The method, together with nature and chance, bore its fruit, and triplets, even triplets, seemed not just manageable, but relatively easy. We were grateful for all your help, but also proud of ourselves and of our happy infants. And we resisted all the more actively the impulse of down-trodden spirits who sought, and who seek, to connect only through commiseration, and, privately, we gloried in how well the honest truth bore that resistance.

Ha. Vanity.

Well, now, more than 22 months into this experience, Suzy and I are looking for the reset button. To our expectations. Boundaries are being tested, and Mommy-clinginess is threatening to swallow Suzy whole. Yep. We're growing up. Readjusting. Remembering how foolish it is to assume, one, that expectations hold, and two, that what we expect is goodness defined.

Reset: when we didn't know what to expect, we were prepared for anything, and goodness revealed more of itself at every turn. We were infants ourselves, and life was amazing only. Reset. Renew. Chances cycle. Confidence must yield to however much integrity we have. What did we--what do we ever have any right to expect? Reset. Be ready. Remember. Yea, remember--I mean, we're still 11 years from the challenges of triplet teenagers...

So, it's timeouts, and counting to three, and open defiance, egged on by siblings, and tantrums. New power craves direction. No, Kiefer, you can only throw balls from now on, not books, nor blocks, nor forks and food and sippies. No biting. No hitting. Yes, I know Charlie laughs to see you do it, but it will eventually hurt, if it doesn't already. Charlie, get off your brother, and get off the kitchen table, and take that straw out of your nose, and that raisin, and that piece of grilled cheese. Scout, put your leg down, please (--the other day, after a nap, I went in to find Scout silently straddling the rim of her crib...)

The little people are growing up, plain and simple, and, to be sure, they are as miraculous and lovable in each of their new abilities as they were at birth. They are born every day into greater recognition of their own will, and Suzy and I smile almost constantly to see it, though we do not much relish the sense of becoming wardens. "No." That's easily the most common pronouncement these days. Are they imitating us? "No," sometimes, "No!" with a finger jabbing in a sibling's or cousin's direction. Who teaches them that? Whole conversations, in fact, of "no."

No, no, no, no, no.

And then, there is the whining. Whining triplets, contrary to what I have said before, are definitely whining singletons times three, and then some. Once one stops, another picks up. And almost always for poor Suzy. Kiefer and Charlie were tag-teaming her, in fact, at the zoo just three days ago. It was exhausting just to watch, especially with the menace of a whole year or two or eight of it propping its pitch...

Yes, it's hard raising triplets, but for every tribulation, there is cause for exultation too--for unexpected delight. I have laughed before at the kids, trying to catch up to their cuteness. But until recently I haven't laughed just because they were funny--as though I were in a comedy club crying for mercy. And not just at the kids. The other night, I fell out of my seat at a dinner party, and Suzy and I were in tears about it--unable to even maintain a conversation with our companions. "Excess of joy weeps," writes William Blake.

Yea, attitude isn't enough, not in the moment, nor even in the ultimate truth of it, of course. We cannot maintain the writer's assurance, his patience, the alien aspect of his reflectiveness when a babe is howling all the way home from Grandma's, or when you prove yourself to be less than the parent you wish you were. We cannot maintain such equanimity, nor should we.

But tribulation is a bit of growth too, of course, and summer's verdure is purchased of winter's rain, and last night, breaking the silence on the monitor at about 8:15, presumably when he realized he was surely falling asleep, Kiefer's voice, or was it Charlie's?, came forth: "Ba-bye ball. Ba-bye book. Ba-bye." Yea, see you tomorrow, buddy... They're all learning at a terrific pace...

Life moves. Chances cycle. And we're looking for the reset button.

And Charlie and Kiefer have also learned to say "Thank you," and it's hard to imagine it could be said more purely. "Thank you, Mommy." "Thank you, Daddy." "Thank you, Ball." I told Charlie when I first heard him say it, "That's good, boy. Those words are basically the religion of this household." Thank you earth, and green grass, and rolly-pollies under rocks. Thank you trees, in any season, and squirrels, and birds, and p-p-p-planes. Thank you sky, and moon, and sun, and all things seen and unseen in the universe. Thank you music of thought fused with care. Thank you challenge. And thank you hardship. Thank you life, and grace of love. Oh, what beauty could compliance to our little hopes and plans ever afford? You teach me that, sweet boys. You, yourself, dear Scout, remind me of what we all once never doubted.

Reset. Remember. Renew.

Thank you, toddling miracles. Thank you.

Impulse

And when he came to offer life,

but only on condition of much suffering

and second guessing,

even he was surprised

by the alacrity of your response:

you took it,

and did not take the time to say so.

All right, already!

2011-06-05T13:26:00.000-07:00

I'm hearing you:

#1: too long since the last update.

#2: too many words and not enough pictures.

#3: Shave! --The whole body (--hey, now, let's not get personal).

Well, let me take care of the first two complaints anyway.

I have been busy, and so has Suzy (--would you believe it, in addition to the normal end-of-the-school-year stresses, she has finished her Masters, and is about two weeks away from doing her second triathlon since the babies were born--yea, she's a slacker, no question). Nevertheless, we have been collecting both pictures and videos, and the kids, somehow, keep getting cuter. Every day, literally every day, something new comes out of one of them--some new physical or verbal feat.

Longest sentence so far belongs to Scout: "Ba-bye big poopie." Actually, if you're talking about length in terms of time, she still has the longest sentence: "Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig Poopie." She also hums "Twinkle twinkle," and loves scribbling on paper.

Now, Kiefer knows Scout's name, and he calls Charlie "Bird" (--his clip of "Charlie Bird"), and, he is already something of an athlete: good throw and a good kick--plants his non-kicking foot actually, and when he runs his whole being bubbles with excitement, knees, elbows, wrists--every joint as buoyant as his smile--yippee!

What Charlie lacks in throwing accuracy, on the other hand, he makes up for in effort. His whole body somehow winds up, and when he releases, after a couple of sideways shuffles, the ball might go five feet or five inches in any direction, even behind him. Sometimes it doesn't even leave his hand--a pump fake, so good, that it even fakes him out. But Charlie excels his siblings (and probably all living beings) in two important ways: best dancer, best walking armswing--his left arm--he is either marching--there's a kind of aggressiveness to it, or he is trying to offset the weight of an imaginary ghetto-blaster on his steady right shoulder--serious soul in that kid--or, at least, in his left side. The dance step is even more impressive--and now commonly imitated. He busted it out in Target a week ago. He walks a couple of steps, then drops his hands to the ground, as though he were either starting a round-off, or setting up for a breakdance move, but then he lifts his right leg and holds it in the air, as though to say, "Psyche!"

Yea, he's cool.

(Okay, I get it, close to exceeding the acceptable amount of words...)

Last tidbit for you. When these guys wake up from either their nap or night of sleep, they more often than not are bouncing in their cribs, and guffawing (Katy Williams-like). Their best joke, developed and perfected after 9 months, is an intentional whack on the head proceeded by a over-dramatic"Owwww!" It's a sure thing--no audience can resist laughing. There is a new "Peeee-yuuuu" with fingers pinching the nose that's pretty funny now too (--especially when you are woken up to it in the morning), but the physical comedy is still winning the day. Just yesterday, in fact, after their nap, I took them out of their cribs only to hear them cry to be put back in. I put them in (the boys anyway) and watched about fifteen minutes of ridiculous hilarity...

Oh, and one more note: Favorite activity: Nakedness!!! Freedom--run around and dance Party--unmitigated Joy--that's what nakedness means--that, and maybe a little help with the dishes.

Totally worth a pee spot or two, I'm telling you.

Oops, sorry, one more thing: congratulate Mo Moore on her twins (born three days ago), Mandy and Drew (getting hitched tomorrow), Chuck and Sharyl (little girl due by the end of the month), and Katie D for completing her second masters and getting a new job up in Casper, Wyoming (--if you haven't figured it out yet, Katie is the standout of my family). Oh, and Sam and Shaleen have one in the oven, which will put the DeStefanos up by one on the Kiefers. Go fertility.

Love to everyone,

Joe, Suzy, Larry, Moe, and Curly.

Barfo-rama, Triplet Style...

2011-03-16T17:42:00.000-07:00

(The above picture is of our twin neighbors pushing the stroller about a year ago. They are not, unfortunately, also our children, nor are they Suzy and me--though, it would be a big improvement for me, of course. Just wanted to give you an idea of what people see on our walks.)

The comment we most often get when people pass all of us in the park is: "Boy, you got your hands full." Our usual response is: "Yes, full of joy." And the exchange ends there.

But here it is again, translated, extrapolated:

They say, "I can't imagine three babies at once! Seems impossible."

We say, "Actually, it is not half so tough as we imagined it would be. It's not one baby times three--that, from what I have seen and heard from other parents, would indeed be impossible. But this is three babies at once. The whole approach is different, mentally and in all other ways. Kind of like this stroller: it's bigger and a bit more unwieldy, but it's not three strollers at once.

"I mean, sure, it's three times the food and diapers and cost and laundry and teeth--right, sixty of them suckers coming in...but still, like one baby, it is what it is. Adjustments are made, a balance found, and, in short, however incredible it may seem, Suzy and I, and the babies, are getting on fine--thriving, in fact. Thank you...

"Actually, there are even some advantages to having triplets--mainly, two establish a norm and make us less doubtful than if we were just trying to figure out the other one, who for infinite reasons may have been off in some way for some moment. And, of course, they have their own peer group, which allows Suzy and I some freedom to read or do chores, etc., while they play with each other.

"Interestingly, it is almost as hard for Suzy and I to imagine one baby at a time as it must be for you to imagine three, and our sympathies, both ways, are thus limited. The trick is to not judge one another by each other's standards--that's always the trick, though--in all things, it seems..."

They respond, "You don't have much of a chance to talk to people, do you? Ooo, look at the time, gotta go. Good luck with all that."

Yea, the quick conversation is better...

Anyway, this "three at once" logic generally holds up, except...when we are sick. You may remember the last time we were all sick. 5 and a half weeks later, right when we were starting to think our luck had finally and completely turned to ill, things all got better. And the babes are so happy generally, it's hard to even remember that trial.

Well, and then we get a reminder of what precipice we are all ambling along. Here's what happened last weekend:

Scout had come down with something early Saturday morning, vomited twice, had two wardrobe and bed sheet changes, but still managed to fall asleep. We let her sleep in a bit longer that morning. She was tired all day, and we simplified her meals, but by dinner that evening, she seemed fine--went down at 6:00 as usual and slept straight through the night. Whew! I felt some tinges of nausea, but it passed. My main concern was for the boys, but they seemed fine also.

And then Sunday lived up to its name. Hannah and Mochi came over--they were visiting from out of town, and we all spent some time outside (more on that later). Then evening and an early dinner at the Foas (--celebrating Paige's birthday). Babes didn't eat much, so we came home and fed them at their normal time, frozen blueberries among other things. We put them down a little past 6:00--oh, and Scout spit up a little at dinner, but we figured (--more hoped) it wasn't anything worrisome. Babies down, Suzy and I worked a bit downstairs, as usual, but Suzy was feeling a little rocky, so she went up to bed early.Then 9:15 struck...

Charlie had puked and was crying in his crib. By the time I had come upstairs, Suzy was already holding the little guy in the living room. Quietly as possible, I changed the sheets in his crib--vomit was pink and soupy. Blood?!! No, blueberries. Scout turned over in her crib, but remained quiet, whether or not she was up. Kiefer snoozed away. Charlie had calmed down, and Suzy and I managed to get his clothes changed, before I took him so Suzy could change her shirt (--keep track of the changes here). She did that, and Charlie was practically asleep already in my arms. So I put him down, and Suzy, feeling worse, went back to bed.

Then some time later (time became a total blur eventually), Charlie exploded again. Suzy grabbed him, while I finished rinsing off the soiled clothes and sheets downstairs. I came up and changed Charlie's sheets again. Scout was awake, but quiet, sitting up and watching me back and forth. Kiefer: ZZzzzzZZZzzz. I took Charlie, stripped him out of his pajamas, and Suzy went to change her shirt again. She returned and took the little guy again, and then, would you believe it, Kiefer erupted in the babies' room. I grabbed him while he was still puking and took him into the living room. I sat across from Suzy and she was looking a bit pale herself, not wanting to talk, afraid verbal confirmation of her feelings would make them a done deal.

...Oh, we're just getting started...

I managed to strip Kiefer, and handed him to Suzy. Then I took off my shirt, threw it in the pile at the kitchen door, and went to change Kiefer's bed as well. Scout had started to cry now, and was standing at the end of her crib. I came back out and then Suzy finally said, "I am not feeling good at all." We managed to dress the boys again, and I put Charlie back to bed, then Kiefer. Scout was still crying and watching, but eventually tried to go back to sleep. Suzy started a new load of wash and then went back to bed herself, feeling awful. I went downstairs to the computer to put in my absence for school the next day.

Then it was Charlie again. Suzy to the couch, Charlie to her arms, and I went to strip the bed again, but didn't need to--Charlie had nothing left inside him. Oh, that's good, I suppose. But right then Kiefer started up. I turned to grab him, and he puked the rest of his blueberry-dyed dinner right down the front of my shirtless furriness. I went into the living room, Scout was crying again, and Charlie was dry-heaving on Suzy, and then Suzy looked up to me with desperate urgency and said, "I have to puke." She gave me Charlie and rushed to the bathroom.

Scout started coughing in her crib, and I thought she might have puked as well. I looked into the darkness as though into a mirror, Kiefer on my right knee, Charlie on my left, pink soupy bile dribbling down and into my stomach rolls. When Suzy came back out, I told her about Scout. "Are you f-ing kidding me?" She checked on the sweet hysterical, and, thankfully, it was a false alarm. Suzy had to muster the strength to come back in and ask, "What are we going to do?" I said, "Give me the phone."

It was 12:00-something. I had to call twice before Suzy's mom Martha picked up. Suzy was standing miserably in the door way. "Hello," Martha sounded impossibly alert. "Martha," I said, and then, Kiefer started puking again, in the crook of my arm with the phone in it. Suzy, somehow, like a JuJitsu Master, took the phone, handed me a bowl for Kiefer to puke in, and finished the conversation with her mother, and probably did a cartwheel kick press or something, before I knew what was happening. "She's on her way," Suzy managed before dashing off to the bathroom. Kiefer, fortunately, was all out of ammunition too. Charlie was nestled into my side. Scout--well, she was probably talking things over with her pet mouse Doey.

By the time Martha arrived, the show was all but over. Suzy spent more than time in the bathroom, came out, put Charlie to bed, then went back to spend more in the bathroom. I saw Martha's headlights outside and told Suzy she had arrived. Suzy, wordlessly, more or less crawled into bed, feeling helpless, and worse, unable to help--which is Hell on earth for a mother, as I am sure you all know. Martha walked in and I gave her the skinny, then I gave her chunk--Kiefer, that is, and I went downstairs to finally wipe off my chest and belly, and change the new load over to the dryer (--we might need those clothes and sheets again, I thought). Then I came back upstairs and took Kiefer and put him in bed and then told Martha the plan:

"You sleep downstairs. I'll sleep on the couch up here, so that if one of the babes starts up again, I can get him or her without disturbing Suz, who hopefully can sleep this sickness off. If two start up again, I'll call you up to help."

Sure enough, around 3:00ish, Kiefer dry-heaved again. I grabbed him before he started wailing and took him to the couch with me, where he and I slept for the rest of the night (--that was my favorite part). Martha came up at about 4:00 and went on her way, figuring everything was over, which it was. (I think she even went into work the next day--without so much as a wink of sleep--that fold out in the basement is not especially comfortable.) And that was that.

Suzy and I took Monday off together. I ended up taking Tuesday as well, when one of the boys spit up a bit that morning. By Wednesday, we were all back on track, though. It was crazy. The worst part was actually Tuesday morning, when both boys, completely depleted of calories--they did not drink any Pedialite or Gatorade all day Monday and ate nothing more than crackers--they were both just languishing--their limbs limp, their eyes exhausted and listless. Ahh, if I never saw them in that state again, it would still be too soon.

All sick at once--that was a new one for us. I was wondering if I preferred it to the 5 and 1/2 week sickness-rollercoaster; and was wondering how it all came to pass the way it did. Then Hannah and Mochi forwarded these pictures from their visit on Sunday to our email accounts:

Huh, I don't remember that...

In any case, now when someone says, "Boy, you got your hands full." I think Suzy and I might say, "Yes, sometimes too full."

I wonder which answer they prefer.

All well that ends well, though. Love to everyone. And know that I am always working in some way on the next post, however infrequently they appear...

"Our Story" + Update

2011-02-09T12:51:00.000-08:00

As many of you already know, Suzy and I were asked to write "Our Story" for the STORM newsletter. STORM is the appropriate acronym for Super Twins of the Rocky Mountains, a group set up as a resource for parents of triplets or more--yea, more. There's always someone who has it tougher than you, the adage goes. But, no, "tough" is far from the first word that comes to mind when I think of our situation... Anyway, the newsletter features a new family every month, and, well, here is what we wrote:

Two Feet In, I Guess

About six years ago, I went on my first and only blind date. Joey took me to Pasquini’s. We shared a calzone and the slime-ball “forgot” his wallet. I ended up paying. Yeah, it was pretty much love at first sight. Seven months later, we were on our way to Busan, South Korea to teach English for a year. That’s a normal decision to make after dating someone for less than a year, don’t you think? Living abroad was simply something we had both dreamt of doing one day. When one of us mentioned it, we both made inquiries, and voila!, we were on our way and figured it would either make or break the relationship. In any case, it would be a terrific adventure. Two feet in, I guess.

Well, it was fantastic. We “taught” for 9 months and then spent our earnings travelling all over Far East Asia. We even got down to Australia. Terrific.

About three and a half years later, we finally tied the knot. That’s when the real fun started. Here’s a little timeline for you for 2008: married during spring break (we both teach); bought a cute little 2 bedroom house in May; honeymooned for a month in Tanzania in the summer; came back and waited for the malaria pills to run their course; pregnant by winter. Two feet in, again.

And, of course, we weren’t just pregnant...

We both are the last to have children in our respective families. Every niece and nephew was born a singleton, so we had no inkling that twins, let alone triplets, were even possible. My mother had twins on her side, but that didn’t occur to us, or even to her, after seven grandchildren already. Eight weeks into the pregnancy, after some hilarious emotional breakdowns, like when Joey found me sobbing all over some pitiful movie on the Hallmark Channel, we went to our first ultrasound.

We didn’t have a clue what we were looking at: little box, black screen, triangular frame. Lori, the PA we had just met, began the ultrasound and was surprisingly quiet. The silence was long enough for Joey and I to look at each other and nod, thinking, “Oh well, we’ll try again.” Then Lori spoke, “There’s one...” Joey and I looked at each other with exultation: Yes, we are pregnant! But then Lori surprisingly continued her sentence, “... and there’s two...” Joey and I looked at each other again, this time with amazement. I think one or maybe even both of us actually said, “Twins? We’re having twins?” But Lori, transfixed to the screen, and still stuck inside her wondrous sentence, remained silent… Our heads were going back and forth, from the screen to Lori, to each other, then back to the screen, and then the verdict finally came (drum role, please) “...and there’s three.” Joey likes to tell the story that my reaction started in my toes, rifled through my entire body like lightning, and then exploded from my mouth: “Are you sh*^ing me?!” Joey, pale as a sheet already, turned askance, and very quietly said, with all the fake composure you could ever want, “We’re going to need a new house.” Two feet in, indeed!

Then Lori proceeded to say, “Is that a fourth?”

Yes, Joey and I were in quite a bit of shock, as was Lori—this was new for her too. (To this day, Joey claims that Lori actually put two more in there through some technological glitch). I don’t really remember much about that day after that. We did meet my OB, because she needed to verify what Lori saw. She also believed there were “only” three, but she sent us downstairs for a better sonogram just to rule out the possibility of a furtive fourth.

Word had somehow already spread everywhere, no doubt starting with Lori. On our way down to the examination room, people were pointing at us and saying things like “There they are,” “That’s them,” “That’s the couple who just found out they’re having triplets.” Some people were excited, others judgmental. We weren’t available to either reaction, blown like leaves in the whirlwind.

Yep, “only” three. Over the next weeks and months, our shock gave way more and more to preparations. Thankfully I was able to finish out my school year and veg for the rest of the summer. Yeah, I began to look more and more like an equilateral triangle, as my husband so nicely puts it. But, even at the height of my discomfort, I knew I was lucky to have the pregnancy I did.

Deciding we had had enough surprises, we chose to learn the sexes: two boys and a girl. The names we had chosen since we first saw that faded pink line on the pee stick were now used up (Charlie and Scout), but we debated over the other little guy all summer. Not until our doctor actually pulled him out and gave him to the NICU nurses who put him under the heating lamp did Joey walk over and look into his tiny precious face, and confirm what we had been leaning toward: “Yep, he’s a Kiefer.” The OB halted whatever she was doing to me, looked over the curtain, and asked, “Did he just say, ‘It’s a keeper?’” Everyone, all 632 people in the delivery room, got a good chuckle out of that one.

That’s right, Scout, Charlie, and Kiefer, each officially born a minute apart, and all three of them most definitely keepers.

Our great fortune continued past that day as well. All five of us came home five days later. They tried to send us home earlier, but as we were smartly advised to do, we kept the great 24-hour nurse/doctor expertise and help around us as long as possible. After that fifth day, however, they did kick us out.

That first night home was unsettling, to say the least, replete with anxious, almost angry sighs. We felt utterly alone. But the moment passed and the plans we had made soon took full effect. A whole army of volunteers, mostly retired colleagues and friends’ parents, all led by my mother, stepped in the day Joey had to go back to work.

It was a great first year, all in all, thanks to the health of the babies, Joey being a fantastic dad, who, although he was teaching, woke up every 3 hours and fed the babies with me (—I still have no idea how he did it), my being able to take a year off, and all the loving and continual support we received. We are now only 16 months into this crazy adventure, and it is, and still promises to be as miraculous as anything could ever be.

Just as you all know, having triplets is a wild and rare experience, two feet right into the full surge of life, every aspect of it swirling about your heads, quicker sometimes than you can grasp, but beautiful, endlessly beautiful.

But that's old news. What can I offer by way of an update?

Well, the people are all walking now, interacting more and more--civil...most of the time. We have just successfully transitioned from two naps to one, thanks to Kori, Martha, and, of course, Hannah. They're eating too well, despite their squat stature--yea, it's hard to keep up with them. "Mommy" and "Daddy" have both entered the vocabulary, though "Mommy" seems to mean "Give me, Give me," and "Daddy" has something to do with poop. There are a few other words, like "Please," which sounds like "p-SSS," and "Ball," which sounds like "Baw." "Nanna" is also in there, their word for Hannah, our nanny. It's funny, I have always been amazed by how parents decipher what their children garble, but I am starting to understand how it happens. Speaking of "baw," Kiefer has one hell of an arm--I've been pegged several times by things not especially soft--in fact, had to put the golf balls away, and the throwing knives... Oh, and they listen to instruction pretty well, like "Sit down, please," and "Take that to Mommy," and "Scout, let go of his penis." Anyway, we've taken some good spills--like Scout head first down Mike and Drea's wooden staircase (--Mike pushed her). Man, she had a pretty good bump on her head for a while. Reminded me of Romeo & Juliet: "Dost thou fall upon thy face, Jule?..."

I have been working on a dance video, but it's far from publishable yet--mainly because they keep creating better moves. You'll have to stay tuned for that one.

But, the real news of our life these days is actually coming from other sectors: Maureen is pregnant with twins--YEA!; Chuck's Sharyl is also pregnant, a girl, somehow already resembling the great Mrs. S; the Swanzinator is pregnant too; my sister Katie and Doctor Paris found a great home in Casper, Wyoming; Andy Hieb, Hannah V, and Mochi are all planning March visits; and Katy Williams and Co are coming back to Colorado for the summer--yeehaw!

Much love and two or three extra layers of warmth this winter to all of you--and, as always, our heartfelt gratitude,

Joe & Suzy (Scout, Charlie, and Kiefer)

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-20T13:02:00.000-08:00

We had a pretty tough go of it since last I posted (relatively speaking, of course). That flu/cold I mentioned in the last post clung to the little people for the next three and half weeks straight (--actually, it was just one virus after another, each cycling through the kids). Nurse said, this is going to be a long year for the trips, but a good and necessary one. And, to tell you the truth, it doesn't feel long to Suzy and me at all.

Anyway, it's almost Thanksgiving now, and we have put the humidifier back in the closet, taken the incline out of their beds, and body and spirit are much revived for all of us. Whew! Our eyes can turn outward again, as is their wont. So I was figuring, what better way to show our gratitude for all of your support this Thanksgiving than to send you another video. I hope you like it.

Updates are coming soon, like one about Scout's daring crib escape, another about all of our new dance moves, and even a nice yarn about Suzy's split pants... Stay tuned.

Almost Unbearable

2010-11-12T12:41:00.000-08:00

They're too cute. I can hardly stand it anymore, and I suspect that you are in the same place. But what can we do?

Yep, here are more photos for you to enjo--endure:

That's the right idea, Scout: cover those mugs up.

Oh, the humanity!

May we never forget that moments such as these were our very own!

From our overfull hearts to yours this X-mas season,

Joe and Suzy

Photos and Updates

2010-10-15T13:30:00.000-07:00

Hey people,

Suzy and I are busy bees these days. School is in full swing,and so are the triplets. I think it was just a couple of nights ago that after putting the omnivores down, I was on my way to the grocery store with a newly composed grocery list when Suzy said, "Didn't we just go shopping...yesterday?" Yes, we had. They're monsters (don't let the pictures fool you, especially that third one of Charlie)--Suzy and I are surprised we still have all our fingers (--helps that they have but 11 teeth between them)........... .

Anyway, Grandma Martha and Suzy took the beasts in for their yearly photos (--yea, as I have just been informed, there is some law about taking photos which apparently maintains the cosmic order or something--thanks to the ladies, all of us on this little Earth are safe as far as the DeStefano duties are concerned). So here are all the best of those photos for your viewing pleasure. The babes are about 13 months old in them..................................

If they seem a little less than exuberant, that is probably because of our having just gotten through a week and some days of illness. In fact, we aren't totally through it yet, and starting to doubt whether normalcy will ever return. Suffice it to say, it has been as tricky a stretch as we have had. Three sick infants are too much for one pair of hands, especially when the three primary caretakers (the third being the nanny) are sick as well. Fortunately, the nausea was staggered for the three adults, and, in the end, we managed. The trickiest night, due simply to depleted energy reserves, was when Scout introduced the whole family to her coincidental first upper tooth (--the new eleventh, as I mentioned above). Apart from that, and the first night of throwing up, the babes still slept through every night--yea, Babywise.

Anyway, Scout only has a runny nose any more, and she doesn't seem upset with it at all...so far.

But all of that stands for nothing compared to the health and fortune we more regularly enjoy. Here are some updates:

Scout has taken a few steps on her own, but prefers crawling, and, to tell the truth, she hasn't walked a step since about a month ago. Charlie is also standing on his own, and, reportedly, he took a step two days ago with the nanny, but, again, crawling seems to be the in-thing these days. Actually, Charlie often straddles his plastic blue walking bike and will go as far as he can go straight. And Scout does often grab your finger, even if your hand is planted on the ground, and tries to stand and walk everywhere. Cute as her stilted stagger is, our favorite part of this transition is that when she does walk, your finger in hand, the boys often dive-bomb her: they crawl straight up to her, and head-butt her in the belly. Yea, they laugh, but she laughs harder, and we all end up cracking up. Sometimes, she even sticks out her belly like bait to lure the two sharks in only to stiff-arm them. Oh, and by the way, Kiefer shows no inclination to walk at all--just our content little stationary guy.

Let's see, favorite food: cold cut turkey. Favorite activity: dancing. Wherever the music comes from, the stereo or a little plastic song book, it is the cue to dance. Charlie rocks and cups his hands. Scout stands at the gate and kicks out a leg. And Kiefer conducts the music. Favorite music: Lady Gaga. Second favorite activity: Reading. They are all, as of three days ago, bringing books to you and then turning to sit in your lap, Scout most frequently. Her favorite book: Goodnight Gorilla. She giggles at every page, especially the way mommy reads it. (Friends, do everything you can to find a second grade teacher to mother your children. It's wonderful.)

Let's see, what else? They wave to you and at each other, share sundry manipulatives, and they climb up stairs. Oh, and they come to the glass door in the morning to watch you leave for work. Either Suzy or I will exit from the front door, walk across the lawn to the car, turn to look back and see all three standing at that door with their hands on the glass. They're not necessarily upset--just straved for entertainment, I guess. Kiefer, for a time there, was even pressing his face up against it so that his lips and nose were smashed flat, and his little tongue would flicker forth for a taste of the cold--he looks like one of those algea-eating fish in a fishtank. Hilarious. And what about talking? Well, Scout does it the most, but none of it resembles English yet, except for two syllables: "Doey." We use to think she was saying my name, but now we think she has a pet mouse that keeps her company when she is supposed to be napping. Seriously, she'll talk for an hour, hour and a half in her crib sometimes. Most mice come for food and water, but Doey comes, we think, for the conversation.

Current nicknames: Chunk, Charlie Cuddle, and Stink Face.

Anyway, I feel like it's been a long time since I gave you guys an update, though, once every couple of months is about the pace I think I will go now. In the interims, dear friends, know that generally our great fortune continues to unfold, and we are, as always, grateful for all of your love and well-wishes, grateful in every way. Thank you. One thing I realized a few years back is that there is no such thing as obliviousness. We are, just as infants, aware of more than we can name.

And so, with all our hearts, thank you.

Okay, wees outta here,

Joe, Suzy and the cannibals

Time to Party!

2010-08-21T21:16:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow (8/22), we celebrate the triplet's first birthday, which is actually on Wednesday (8/25). That's right, the big one year old, times three. We have come a long way since Hannah and Katie D first posted ultrasound pictures to this new blog.

Check out the video, and get a sense of what the peeps are up to now (--of course, their quest and development has been and continues to be mind boggling--I'm telling you, Hercules, himself, pays homage to infants--just incredible, as all you parents know). This one's called "Charlie and Friends"--he and especially his head are the main features...

In addition to what you see there, these three are standing, clapping, waving, and eating like dump trucks. Scout's also scooting along the couch. Oh, and she and Charlie are both climbing--stairs, chairs, tables even. One day, Suzy turned around and Scout was up on the table next to the couch via the piled boppies and a diaper container tuned sideways. I thought baby-proofing simply meant closing doors, covering plugs, vacuuming your floor every other hour, etc. I didn't know it meant you had to redecorate your home in the least practical way possible. We just tell people, it's a habit we formed in S. Korea...

Anyway, Suzy is back to school this year (--had her first couple of days with students last week). It's a difficult transition, of course, for both of us, but we have, thanks to Mike and Drea, a terrific nanny. I've told you a bit about her already, and will only add here, that, so far, it is working out better than we had hoped. The children are big fans of Hannah the nanna, and she is having a great time herself. The sleep and meal routine is holding strong.

Oh, and the wonderful Kory and Foa clan are taking the babes on Mondays, which, though we have only done it once yet, is already like sending the kids to their own versions of heaven. Those cousins are awesome, and Suzy and I have been emulating Kory and Jason since we met them.

And so life goes on: one year down, the rest of eternity straight ahead.

Thank you all for your continued support, well-wishes and everything else. Scout, Charlie, and Kiefer, are each unique reflections of all your love--of this great world's finest embrace. They are, in a word, happy.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Joe and Suzy

Put Up The Gates

2010-07-09T21:56:00.000-07:00

Well, as of July 8th or 9th, Kiefer joined the rank and file in the crawling world. Before, he was kind of inch-worming himself around. Scout, who did a break-dancing twist and roll until Charlie showed her how to crawl correctly, now shoots out like a sassy, hip-wiggling bullet to whatever attracts her attention. And Charlie--well, Charlie loves to climb. When he crawls, it's always like he's crossing a battlefield--slow, deliberate, dramatic (--good for teaching, I guess). But when he gets to his objective, it's climbing time, which is sometimes followed by a pretty good digger and then more drama. But just a month or so ago, things looked a bit different. Take a look:

Man, it has been fun. Watching them develop. They are all determined, and all successful, but success and the route to it are different in each case. I can't wait until they can walk, an adventure on which Scout is already embarking--that is, when she isn't completely focused on talking. I'm telling you, she is garrulous, and ridiculously cute. Often, Suzy and I will go in after a nap and find her either kneeling or standing in the direction of her brothers, holding the railings of the crib and just gabbing away. Bla bla bla... She even once was sitting with her two little legs swinging back and forth out of the crib, and just talking to no one in particular. She seemed frustrated that we interrupted her too.

I can't tell you how much fun Suzy and I are having. Summer has been great. Coincidentally, the babes' nap schedule corresponded perfectly with the World Cup games. I saw more of this World Cup, would you believe it, than I had seen of any other, and that was a great joy for me. The World Cup, actually, is the main reason I have not totally followed through on all my projects this summer, but that was a happy choice to make. We have had some great visits too, Sally and her son David, most recently, and for two nights, two days, we even hosted TL and Steve all the way from Alberta.

Oh, and Sara and Mike's son Abel was born (well done, people), and so was Annika, my friend and colleague's first, and, yea, Andrew Kanagy's Ivan Timothy has made his big entrance (--Andrew and his wife Heidi are the main reason Suzy and I have triplets, if you didn't know it). Welcome to parenthood, my dear friends--it is amazing, fun and endlessly fulfilling...

And, of course, 'tis the season for getting hitched. Just went to Galas's wedding and spent some quality time with the Swanzy--our kids' unofficial official Alaskan pediatric dentist. And we still have three more great weddings to go to yet: yea, Chris and Sarah; yea, Alan and Allie; and yea, my main man Chuck and the wonderful Sharyl. Thanks to the Marvelous One, Suzy's mother Martha, we plan to come and have a once-in-a-lifetime kind of celebration with each of you.

But the biggest event this summer, in terms of distance and trickiness, was Suzy's cousin Maureen's wedding in Omaha. Suzy has a lot of family in the big RED state, and I don't think she has missed a wedding--not one. In addition to the wedding, we stayed with Suzy's dad, whose hospitality and generousness remains unequaled, and we spent time with all the Kiefers, including Tim's family and even Katy's family (--all the way in from Japan, in fact--every moment with them is a special and rare event). Well, the trips were like a traveling road show. Everyone wanted to see the little people, even Sharon's daughter Mallory did, and Charlie, Kiefer and Scout did so well--stayed right on schedule, slept well, ate well, and were generally pleasant as can be. The drive was the toughest part, and all five of us were certainly tired the day or two after our return, but the routine was easy to refortify, and the the trip was well worth the warming and loving embrace of Suzy's Omaha family and friends. Thank you, all.

As for the blog, it's still going strong--in my head, if not always in front of your eyes. I thank you for your patience and your prayers, and your wishes, and your love--and your encouragement. Yes, many of you have said the nicest things about the blog. The only encouragement I'll ever need is right now systematically testing the kitchen and hallway gates for weaknesses--yea, like the velociraptors in that terrible movie, but your encouragement helps a lot. And to those of you just now coming down this wonderful path of family and life, well, yours is the best encouragement of all...

With much love,

Joe And Suzy

Teething, Tears and a New Sit-Com

2010-06-14T17:25:00.000-07:00

Well, folks, they're teething. Each was a little feverish and fussy for a couple of days, but now the boys each have two front teeth--and Scout, well, at least she played the part...

Summer is here and so is the World Cup (--translation: the kids are being ignored more than ever). Yea! But we still had time to put together this promo for a situational comedy. Tell us what you think.

Suzy and I have more to share, including a new installment of The Infant Olympics, but we'll post it separately in a few days. For now, enjoy the promo.

Laughing Matters

2010-05-17T08:28:00.000-07:00

A couple of nights ago, before Suzy and I turned out our bedside lights, we heard a noise come from the babies' room. I quickly whispered, "Suzy, listen." She turned her ear toward the hall. Again, we heard it, and Suzy quietly interjected, "Aaa"--but it was not the typical "Aaa" that you lady folk are so expert in. No, this one was filled with both adoration and marvel. One of the boys was laughing in his sleep...

Man O man, it's been a long time since I posted. You might guess that this is because the babies are ever more demanding, but actually the opposite is true: we have all learned to play this game ever more efficiently and my teeming mind keeps taking up other projects. Funny to think what my former sense of "busy" was. Yea, that's it, my attention is only more diffused. Or have I not posted simply because it's the end of the school year, always a crazy time?

Whatever the case, if time is short, I am only happy it is so full. One thing I can tell you (--I think I have once already), it is utterly thrilling--a parent's thrill, to discover how much greater one's capacity for love is. But what completely levels you is realizing how much your child loves you in return. Man, is it humbling... When I walk in the door, or when Suzy holds one of them close, oh, that smile ripples through your entire being, ripples through all the world besides. Trees and stones perk up in the light of so pure a love.

Yes, I know, troubles and more Victorian times are on their way, around the corner perhaps, but for the moment, it is spring, life is grand and the whole family is madly in love with each other!!! That, and nothing less, is the reason I have not posted. Well, now I have much to share about each of them.
Let's see, we'll take each one up, in turn.

Scout is loud and verbose. Typically, every morning is prefaced by some 30-minute contemplative monologue--loud monologue. What is she contemplating? Without a doubt, mischief. Yes, our goose is cooked. Suzy is being repaid for a childhood of thorough rascality, and I--well, I am collateral damage. Now, Scout hasn't actually done anything to raise such suspicion, but you can see it in her eyes--there, and in the way she sometimes purses her lips and then kind of huff-snorts like an angry bull...................................................... ..............................................When we imitate her, she smiles large. What else? She does a spread eagle while in the stroller, pulls her booties or socks off regularly, will not tolerate being touched on the head by either of her brothers, and, o, she eats half of all her meals only while reading an octopus book. She also was the first to position herself on her hands and knees, not yet crawling, but very close.

Kiefer is still the chubster, and he is also a comedian. He and Charlie were sitting across from each other and he was emitting these guttural barks, which cracked Charlie up. I didn't think they were all that funny, but, man, Charlie was splitting his side. But the biggest news for Kiefer is that a few days ago, he cut his first tooth. It's as though he means to defy his station as the youngest triplet his entire life. Go Kiefer, go: Scout's extra two minutes in this world mean nothing. In truth, Kiefer is the only one that has launched himself forward in the crawling position. Oh, and cutest of all cute things, he purrs--actually more a gurgle, but warm and fuzzy like a cat.

Charlie is at the same time the most excitable and the most cuddly. Just yesterday, he picked up this old-fashioned yarn cube with a little jingle inside it, and, instead of putting it into his mouth, like his siblings would do, or drumming it onto his leg, like he often does, he just pressed it against his own cheek and closed his eyes. I thought I was watching some detergent commercial or something. But definitely excitable also! I don't have the heart to tell Kiefer, but Charlie laughs at everything. Seriously, we don't even have to make faces anymore, let alone sounds and sudden gestures--he just laughs if you're looking at him. And, let's see, he is the best at manipulating his food, and he is also close to crawling, though he seems to prefer making swimming motions while resting on his chest and belly. Oh, and Charlie is still the most likely to pee on you, which goes all the way back to Chris Harris's training. Thanks a lot, Chris...............

Generally, we're all doing well. Flavor of the week: cottage cheese, banana and peas. The trips all sit up to play, and then roll over every which way to go to sleep. All are weaned off the breast (--Scout went 8 months), and as of this morning, I am weaning them off the beard--big beard--9 months long--longer than the kids. I'm actually weaning them off their hobo-father conception gradually over the next three weeks. Hmm. The little people are also interacting with each other, still only grunts and coos and laughs, but definitely back and forth. They prefer it, actually, to bouncing in the bouncer. Sometimes we set them up in a circle and are loath to interrupt them. Today, I am pretty sure the boys are not identical. But yesterday, I was convinced the other way. Tomorrow? Well, check out the pictures and tell me what you think. Oh, and Suzy finished her spring class, registered for two more in the summer, and will only be a fall course away from her MA. She also is going back to work next year. We have found a great person to nanny. Her name is Hannah, but understandably feeling like these kids have one too many Hannahs in their life already, we are going to call her Hanny (the nanny) instead.

But I'll tell you what isn't a laughing matter--I mean, this royally sucks: people aren't making us dinner any more, or cutting our lawn, or offering to shave my beard. What gives, people?! Hello, still have triplets here. Just because they're past the cute stage doesn't mean Suzy and I suddenly know how to cook. We're starving. (--Yea, that's right, you have spoiled us, never mind the kids--and we want the swan that lays golden eggs now!!)

Enough of me, check out these new photos. Jamie's friend came over and shot them on Mother's Day. They're the best pictures we have yet! Enjoy (and thank you earnestly for all your help and warm thoughts).

Suzy's First Attempt

2010-04-08T07:31:00.000-07:00

Alright. It is time. Time for my first attempt at blogging. Joey has been doing a wonderful job with the blog (and everything else, I can't imagine doing any of this without him, and I'm not talking about the blog), so I am by no means going to take over. I did, however, want to add some of the latest pictures. The wee ones have been hard at work and want to show off their new tricks.

Learning to Laugh

2010-03-28T18:44:00.000-07:00

Life moves, and it's hard to keep up. Yesterday, it's Olympic Toe Holding. Today, Kiefer's stuffing his mouth full of toe.

And just look at Charlie's hair. As for Scout--well, Scout is learning, right along with her brothers, one of the most important skills in life--a skill her mother and I are great at. Don't ask, what is it. Let us go and make a visit. Check it out:

Thanks, Marvelous. You're the best.

Oh, and congratulations Jonny and Jamie. Nina is in the world and she is beautiful. (I'm sure it won't be too long before you see her up here.)

And Andrew and Hiedi, we're waiting to hear your news as well.

Take care all. We love you.

All Four Corners of the Texas Divide

2010-03-14T11:27:00.000-07:00

Well, friends, it's been a while, and this post hardly accounts for all the time missed. I have been focused on another project, and I am wary of sharing any mental space with it. Obviously, I am not a good multi-tasker, especially when the multiple tasks all require word-smithery. But I wanted to get something new out there for you guys, just to make sure you know this site is still very active in my mind. This is a video I shot about a month ago, on the eve of the Winter Olympics, and it, as you will see, did not require much editing. I call it Infant Olympics. It should at least give you some idea of how the trips are doing: healthy, six-months old, and still thinking their dad is funny.

(Now, let's not be too rough on the director-commentator here. Yes, it's true, he has a hobbit foot, and sometimes he can't tell left from right, nor ten from twenty, and his hair is out of control. But, at least...--he...--at least he...smells good.)

A New Movie!

2010-01-27T11:38:00.000-08:00

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.

Doctor's Visit #2 (Four Months and Three Days)

2009-12-29T19:33:00.000-08:00

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!

Accomplishments, Large and Small

2009-12-20T21:13:00.000-08:00

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.

The Golden Age (or so they say)

2009-11-22T13:32:00.000-08:00

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.

They grow up so fast these days

2009-11-10T14:38:00.000-08:00

She's crossed over--Scout, I mean--she's beyond our reach anymore. Just look at these pictures--she is full gangsta rap nouveau: Her moniker: "Gilly" or "G to the Y." Her three favorite things to say: "...sorry," "Shi-at, mo fo," (which apparently means: Thanks for wiping my butt, Dad), and, "Pink this, Lady Gaga!!!" And that last one she says while holding up some kind of gang sign with her hands. I know, what can we do? Counseling? At such an early age? I don't know.

For their parts, my two failed bodyguard sons: Kiefer is always just humming along with Van Morrison; and Charlie keeps humming along with Kiefer, but thinks he's at a Stones concert.

I know.

I'm sorry....

I don't know what else to say. They have already passed the cute stage. I'm sorry if you missed it...

Extra! Extra! Read all about it!

2009-11-07T09:28:00.000-08:00

Eating a lot, getting fatter, and pooping all over ourselves...

But I suppose I should tell you about the kids. I mean, you don't come to this blog to hear about Suzy and me.

Man, so much has happened since last I posted, which is the main reason I haven't posted for so long. Let's see, the babies got their first round of shots, and they went through subsequent fevers. Wow, were they crying. I just held the bottle lightly in Kiefer's mouth, and he would wail and wail, take a few tugs, and then wail again. Poor guy. And one day before that, Suzy got a crazy fever herself--was shivering, shaking all over the place: one of the symptoms of mastitis. Yea, it was a rough couple of nights. Thanks to Kory and Martha though, we were able to nip the mastitis in the bud: got antibiotics, and Suzy didn't have much trouble after that (--but now we know that Suzy and not One Hung Low wrote the epic thriller "Broken Bra Strap").

Oh, and the mastitis hit while Suzy was at a shower organized by Carol MacDougal. The shower was wonderful and noteworthy all by itself, and that's without mentioning how the van got stuck in the snow...

That's right, the biggest fall snow storm in Colorado's history suddenly struck that same day while Suzy was en route. But, in the end, the storm was great: the kids got their first real taste of what it means to live here--if, that is, you don't include the suffocating congestion that apparently is a result of our dry climate. Oh, and I also had school cancelled on Thursday, which was nice, my first snowday with my own children--better than all the rest; even though, the nicest part about it was the thought and hope that it might happen many times in the future. The little ones are a bit too young still to enjoy snowday activities--I mean, they didn't seem very amused at all when I rolled them down a hill to see how big a snowball each would make.

Anyway, Carol's shower was scheduled to coincide with the arrival of our favorite mail-in Japanese aunt, Katy Williams. Poor Katy--she pretty much stepped off the plane and got sick herself. She spent most of her lone week here wearing a mask, dealing with jet lag, connecting with family and friends, and collecting some goods to take back to Japan, all while taking care of Leopold, her five-month-old spaghetti-legged happy albino son. (Check out the pictures: Leopold is the hairless Titan threatening to gobble up our three little Olympians--a happy happy Titan, but still...)

Jeeze, what else? Oh yea, the triplets made the paper--the high school paper The Pioneer, to be exact. I have been trying to upload a copy of the article here, but can't figure it out--the title of this post is as far as I got. But I'll keep trying. It was a fun article, put together by two or three of my AP students. In it, the babes were called "the gleesome threesome." I liked that. And yes, they are gleesome. Kiefer (or George) is smiling all the time--even at two in the morning. Charlie successfully peed all over my back while I was giving Scout a bath (--nice aim, Chris). And Scout, well, she's always just chilling out with those baby blues, even while we're ladling her runny stools. Seriously, today I felt like Oliver: "More soup, please?" And just this morning, all three of them started sleeping without being swaddled. Right when you thought they couldn't get any cuter, you walk in and see the boys holding hands. (And they may indeed be identical--seem to be tending in that direction...)

Oh, and the new measurements are in--since the shots, anyway, which were two weeks ago already (--time keeps on slipping slipping slipping...):

Scout was 7 lbs, 15 ons.

Charlie was 9 lbs even.

And Kiefer was 9 lbs, 8 ons.

But here's the thing, Scout was the tallest of the bunch--and she's not tall--off the charts short, in fact, which means Kiefer is almost perfectly round. (The pediatric nurses call our kids the Hollywood triplets, by the way. Kiefer and Scout, I guess, have some connections.) But that was two weeks ago. I wonder how they measure up now, and what they're called.

Anyway, here's my latest insight: we're all infants. I feared Suzy and I were regressing--assimilating infancy for being outnumbered as we are. No, we aren't really pooping on ourselves--yet. But I have caught glimpses (or thought for a moment I should have, if I were in front of a mirror), in which we do something just like one of the babies, stretching, or smirking--as we pass gas--I don't know, just little instances I can't really name. Like once, I looked at Suzy while she was sleeping, and her arms and hands were above her head, and I thought, Hey, that's Scout! I had to kiss her. It's amazing seeing your child in your wife, and not the other way around. These glimpses recurred enough to make me wonder, Am I going to start peeing on my own head soon? And then, today, it hit me: we're all infants, no matter how old we are. I'm not talking about Emerson's "Infancy conforms to nobody; all conform to it; so that one babe commonly makes four or five out of the adults who prattle and play to it." No, at certain moments, like when you sleep, or when you start from a dead sleep, or when you stretch, or how you thrust your tongue forward when you concentrate, or how you embrace or nestle into the embrace of an intimate friend--right there, for a sliver of a moment, you are new born, totally dependent, but trusting, and utterly content--smiling in your sleep beneath a soft, quiet kiss. It's not that Suzy or I, or anyone else, is imitating one of the triplets, like when Grandma D gets lost in "This Is How the Farmer Goes...". No, it's that the triplets give us a means to understand ourselves a bit better.

Ha, that reminds me of a piece I wrote many years ago--in college--I had just completed a night of babysitting for a neighbor:

"God attends to us in our infancy--she rattles the world on a stick and sings unintelligible cosmic patterns; and she sees greater prospect in us than we could ever realize. We depart from her for dignity, and she lets us go--we do our best to stand where our feet find grounds. But still, one glance into an infant's eyes recalls, if only vaguely, what it was to be suspended in her arms, and what it is to be believed in more than any of all of us can believe in anything."

I didn't title it then, but to title it now, I'd call it, "Thanks Ma."

And thanks to you for your patience. Remember, I am always (and apparently have always been) coming back to this. More updates are coming.

Take care, dear friends.

Breaking News

2009-10-25T09:41:00.000-07:00

Charlie found his thumb, Scout has a cone-head, and we have decided to call Kiefer George.

It's all one

2009-10-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

How quickly they change. Or is it, how much they change everything? I don't know, but whichever it is, we cannot stop taking pictures of the three little ones. They're cute, no question. Just look at the pics... (One of the pictures is of our equally beautiful and still constantly changing 9-year-old niece Mag-a-lagga too.)
Before ending their visit one night, our great friends Sara and Chris assured us that they were coming over to visit the two of us also--not just the babies. I laughed. First, I thought, I love that they adore the babies so much that they feared we might interpret their visit as such. But second, and this was fun to realize--enough fun to earn the title of this post: it's all one. You could not visit us and not also visit them--not because we are scared-petrified of leaving them in any hands other than our own. No, actually we enjoy getting away every now and again (--went bowling yesterday, in fact, with Lizzy Sigler). It's because we are their foundation, and they participate in the furthest reach of our own hopes--our hopes for them, and for the world. If you had Suzy and me alone, say, on top of some Colorado fourteener, the kids would be there too, in the creases and corners of our smiles, behind the triumph of exhaustion--their lungs also would drink the purer air of our individual health. And if you aimed a camera at any or all of them to capture again and again the plain majesty of their movements--life's own greatest feats compressed, simple and herculean, you would see us there too and all eternity besides--inside the hinges and the twitching gestures--in the evolving power of their three wills--there, in each chance, all the events of time comingling, and winking--spryly. Yes, it's all one. Amor Fati!

Hope you enjoy the pics.

(Oh, by the way, if there were an award for the cutest gift ever, how could it not be cliamed by Jake and Marin, our northern-most friends (--met them in Korea, actually)? I mean check out those pics: those are hand-woven Inuit children's hats with each of our kids' names on them. Thanks, you two. We've used them several times already.)

And in This Corner...

2009-10-03T08:52:00.000-07:00

...weighing in at 7 lbs and 0 ozs, wearing the pink "Does this diaper make my butt look big?" onsie, and known for letting half her meals pour down her chin, for torpedo pooping her aunt Katie, and for having possibly the cutest puckered-lips picture ever taken--infant or otherwise, it's the oldest and most mature of the three, Scout!
Yea.
... and then there's her brother, weighing in at 7 lbs, 6 ozs, wearing the white and brown monkey-butt onsie with the red trim, known for loving tummy rubs, having the best head of hair, and for taking turns with his brother crying bloody murder in the night, it's the wily, pursed-brow one, Charlie!
Yea.
...and then we have the youngest and somehow most poetic triplet, known for letting his jowles fall over his neck and rest on his collar, for guzzling his meals while still asleep, and for leaving his mark with poop-smears or lazer pees on whomsoever might feed him, wearing the "Woof, Woof" blue pajamas, and weighing in at a solid 7 lbs and 13 ozs, the heavy weight champion of the house, at almost six weeks of age, the one, the only, Kiefer!
Yea...Speech. Speech. Give us a speech.
"Kiefer-Do, Kiefer-Do.
I poop on me,
and I poop on you.
I poop on the clothes
between us too.
I just want to make

sure Mom knew,
I grew,
and that's just what this Kiefer do."
(Well, it's not quite as good as Sly's speech at the end of Rocky IV, but I am sure Russians would like it just the same.)
Uncle Paris is in town. He and his wife, my sister, are pulling a Tim-and-Julie, taking shifts with their own kids in order to take shifts with ours, but flying in from Tulsa instead. Man, o man, these kids are lucky--and we are so lucky, Suzy and I.
Of course, the question of what we are going to do when these three start scooting around still looms, but, right now, all things are working wonderfully well: the sleeping routine is up and running, and Suzy and I are still just on this side of sanity, no doubt due to the love and support and dinners and diapers still coming in (--Annie Rudolph, my own childhood laughing partner, is buying dinner tonight, in fact).
Thank you, everyone--even those of you writing comments and emails or sending secret well-wishes or prayers or crossed-fingers, whatever, strangers or intimate friends. It all helps. All of it. Suzy joined an on-line group called The Triplet Connection, and while it has provided Suzy a great outlet and resource she could not otherwise have, it has also made clear that Suzy and I have unparalleled support. Again and ever again, what a world these three chunkos know! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Little Pieces

2009-09-17T15:34:00.000-07:00

Well, Julie is here, the dinners keep coming, and yet Suzy's belly is somehow contracting (-- mine's expanding, if you're wondering). I'm finishing my second week back to work since the kids arrived and I am pretty consistently tired, though still able to pour it into my students. Suzy and I have been sticking to our schedule and plan, and have had, so far, only one or two unexpectedly rocky nights (--all other nights, of course, are expectedly rocky). We have no illusions about the looming difficulties, but, as is the continually necessary mode of our thinking, each day at a time, bridges as we come to them, love, appreciate, breathe, and presently all things seem and are do-able.

Oh, but the babies are changing so quickly--each moment like a beautiful vista you're driving pass at top speed. Scout must have her arms out of swaddle in order to sleep now, Charlie smiles when you stroke your finger across his hairline, and Kiefer--he pees on his own head--out of spite!

...Oh, blast this memory. I remember regretting how I missed this or that photo op in Africa--remember cursing the camera for it's slow shutter speed. At the very least, I was glad I saw what I saw, and I went to work every night recording it in my journal so I would never forget it. But what's Africa and all its teeming, flying life--what's Europe Asia Australia--what's the whole universe of wonders to see compared to the pace of the flowing miracle of these three miniature joys? Maybe if I were some genius, some Davinci or Shakespeare, I could remember half of all I would love to share with you. But, no, my pen, my mind, my eye, even, often cannot keep up with these three, and now I go to work to wonder how much more of infinity I am missing...
But cest la via. I don't mean to complain. I love my work too, and am terrifically fortunate in that, and I have no constitution for hating necessity; but still I wonder, and wonder, and wonder. And Suzy is just as amazing as the children, a radiant glory--a character as large as any I could find in the masterpieces I read and teach by day--my own Juliet, and so much more. Yes, I wonder after Suzy too. --But why am I telling you this???
The point is, here are some more pictures. I call them little pieces--pieces of a puzzle I won't ever see in its entirety--none of us, not even a Davinci, could ever see it all--but they are also hints to that entirety--hints to the great miracle of which we are all a part--they are reminders of that endless cause for gratitude. At base, we love life--we all must love it--to live is to love, and these three little masters teach me that every day.

Diapers, Tim, and Delirium

2009-09-11T20:15:00.000-07:00

What a world these kids are coming into: kindness and concern abound from every corner. Just look at the pictures, and think whether children have ever more lovingly been received. William Blake could not imagine a greater innocense. Presently, Uncle Tim, Suzy's brother, has flown in to spend time with us, and his wife Julie is coming out a few days later to stay with us the rest of the week. Do you see what I mean? They're taking shifts with their own wonderful children in order to take shifts with ours. What can Suzy and I do but wonder after such support--our thanks is insufficient--only awe could begin to be the appropriate reponse any more.

And then there is what is happening at Heritage High School, my place of work. Thanks mainly to Mike and Andrea, Tony and Shanna (--friends like family and also colleagues), the school has done a "diaper drive" for the DeStefano trio. Yea, incredible--soccer players, students, parents and teachers are all bringing in diapers and wipes to anonymously drop into one of two boxes. I cannot tell you what this gesture means--what it suddenly means to be an Eagle--how my children have already been taken under wing, so to speak. It's amazing. Mike and Andrea brought us a large load of collected diapers and deposited it in our garage before I had returned to school. I thought that was the end of it--the end of an endlessly gracious gesture. But just yesterday, I brought home another load, equally large, collected since last week; and today, I brought home four more packs. One soccer parent even asked Tony Hurt to pass me a 50 dollar bill, regretful he could not find time to buy diapers himself. Tony eventually gave me $13.76 of it the next day--yea, he dropped the change into my hand, said thanks and walked on. I looked into my hand, unaware of what was happening, counted the coins, and said, you're welcome...

Such kindness. The world could turn permanently cold tomorrow: I could be trekking my three across ashy desolation, sticking to McCarthy's road and escaping anthropophagy at every turn, and still these little consciouses would know and always believe in a world of warmth and love; and, for that, again, there are not thanks enough in either or both of us.

Now, that's not to say everything is smooth sailing. No, Suzy and I are most certainly becoming delirious. In Suzy's case, she is almost consumed with worry. She'll hear the babies cry and think, "Oh, they're in trouble;" and then, she'll not hear anything at all and think,"Oh, they're in trouble." For my part, I will wake up in the middle of the night and wander around the bedroom trying to pick up imaginary babies resting precariously on the edge of the bed. One morning, I found myself cradling Suzy's arm, careful neither of us rolled over on it. Sometimes, I'll rouse Suzy and then she'll speak some inanity like, "Joe, I just fed them." I'll say, "Just fed them--alone--without me?" How is that possible? And then we'll look at each other--all contours and shadows, and dumbly try to figure out what planet we're on. More than once I have put my arm across Suzy while she slept, and she would say, very calmly, "Let's put him back in the crib." "Who?" "Isn't there a baby on my chest?"...

I am sure you have all heard about twins speaking pre-literate gibberish to one another. What you probably don't know--what I am now learning myself, is that the parents are the ones who teach them how to do it... Crazy household right now.

But, all in all, things are magnificent, and we have had such fortune of care as to make any and all hardships nigligible by comparison.

Time for their next feeding... Talk to you people later.

The Cutest Ever

2009-09-04T06:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not saying any one of mine is cuter than other babies I have seen or than any other baby imaginable. I mean, with Sophias, Becs, the ol' crooked footed one, and Paully Jowles, and with all Foas or Loyles in the world, how could I?--or if you have ever seen JG's nephew--I mean, come on, that's just plain unfair. And yet, there is something happening here which is beyond parallel--something almost dangerous in its adorableness--something explosive. Of course, I am talking about what can be called the "sychronized dance squad effect." You see, if you were to take any one member of a dance squad and put him on a dance floor to fend for himself with all his practiced moves, you'd hardly be impressed, I bet. You might even show him up with a little running man or roger rabbit, a double-dog breech step or harpoon swing. But you surround that same little man with his bro and his sis--well, watch out!!! Imean, just look at the pictures.

Now, of course, the synchronization is hard to establish, and I can't even start to explain how incredible Suzy is, and we are only yet in the honeymoon period of newborn drowsiness multiplied by a preemie factor. But again, look at the pictures and think about the possibilities--oh, how I can exploit them! Ha ha ha ha... Maggie Foa has even picked their band name already, which I am sure you will all appreciate: "Suzy's Triple Ds" (a title becoming more and more appropriate every day, if I dare say so myself).

Anyway, to the drawing board with all that...

I just wanted to tell you that we are doing fine. Suzy is incredible, the luck and courage she had as preggo translating themselves into motherhood thus far; and the babies are beautiful and soft and precious and happy--their smiles conflate fall nights and summer days, and I am basking in their service, sleepy in their warmth. In truth, I can't stop taking pictures of them...

And then, on top of all that, we have had the greatest welcome into our new reality through the Kaiser nurses and doctors, and, of course, through your help and excitement, your concern and well-wishes--oh, and your dinners (--man, there is little doubt that I will emerge from the first year of their lives much plumper--Fat Daddy D might be my promoter name). Thank you everyone. What did I know of joy and love and of the hard, fulfilling work of peace, and of generosity and hope before ten days ago? I knew a lot about those words, anyone would say, and they would be right: Suzy and I have been embraced by the world throughout our lives. But as much as we knew then, it now seems but prelude to this--this happy happy joy--this being in full function--this dear responsibility and defining challenge of life: the definitions of these words and of all words, including fear and what not, have swollen tenfold.

And so, I guess you have cause to keep checking back with this blog. This spring's a river to fetch a sea. Thanks Hannah and Katie D for starting it. I don't know how frequently I will be able to use this outlet, but you can be sure that in the interim, life and love are surging onward, and are wanting this page...

Thank you again.

Watch the Triplets

2009-08-26T00:11:00.000-07:00

We recommend watching in "full screen" mode - click on the square in the lower right hand corner

Filmed and edited by Molly Cherington (a.k.a. Tia Moche)

The World Welcomes Scout, Charlie and Kiefer

2009-08-25T22:45:00.000-07:00

August 25, 2009-
Suzy and Joey gave birth today at 11:16, 11:17 and 11:18AM Mountain Standard Time to three beautiful, brave and gentle human beings. We welcome to the world, in the order they arrived, Katherine Scout (4 pounds, 9 ounces, "A"), Charlie Nietzsche (4 pounds, 6 ounces, "B") and Kiefer Whitman (4 pounds, 7 ounces, "C").

Suzy and Joey are already incredible parents, learning every little thing about their new family while graciously hosting about thirty-five welcomed visitors to the hospital throughout the day. Scout, Charlie and Kiefer have taken their first sneezes, soiled their first diapers and eaten their first meals. They brought great joy and love to everyone they met on their first day outside of Suzy's belly.

Suzy and Joey have much to share with you all about their day, but here is just a taste in words, pictures and film.

The DeStefano Triplets have arrived.

Photography by Suzy and Joey

Three Babies Eve

2009-08-24T16:22:00.000-07:00

Well, unfortunately for Paris, it looks as though Suzy is going to make it to tomorrow's appointment. 10:30 AM is c-section time at St. Joes--yea, St. Joes of all places. August 25th, 2009. That means they are going to be Virgos. I'm not going to lie, when I thought that they were going to be Leos, I was excited, imagining they would have something of their mother's disposition, which I am obviously taken with. But, no, Virgos, and as far as I can tell, Virgos suck. I would appreciate any evidence to the contrary...

Anyway, Andy has put the challenge to me to keep up this blog after D-day, and I mean to do it. So keep an eye on it.

As I said I would do in my email yesterday, I have posted the meal calendar that our great friends Mike and Drea put together. It is below the "Attack of Fatherhood" post. Check it out: it's definitely one clear example of how wonderful the world is, as evident in our nearest and dearest as it could be anywhere else. Thank you all.

Andrea wanted me to say that if you have any questions about the calendar, you can email her at ahext72@yahoo.com. You may also email us whenever, about whatever, calendar included.

Attack of Fatherhood

2009-08-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

Two days out--no, not even two. Suzy is scheduled for her c-section at 10:30AM on Tuesday, August 25th, and, as of right now, there is no reason to think she won't go marching in all on her own power. She's doing great...

Now, many people (including many of you) have inquired how I initially reacted to the news of triplets; and, I'm guessing, you're equally curious as to how I am doing right now, less than 48 hours from the beginning of fatherhood--fatherhood times a spontaneous three. Well, if you want to know, just watch the video. It ought to give you some idea of how I'm doing.

(Thanks Molly Shea and Sammy D for helping us put this together.)

Food Calendar

2009-08-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

Come on, Suzy!

2009-08-10T14:55:00.001-07:00

More than once this has happened: a perfect stranger is standing on the other side of an aisle when all of a sudden they see this huge belly emerge like a slow sideways sunrise, and they stand amazed until Suzy finally turns the corner. Then they say, remember these are perfect stangers, "Whoa, I just didn't know if that belly was ever going to end."

Actually, one of the coolest things about Suzy's pregnancy is how wonderful people have been--all people--chivalry is not dead, I can tell you. With only rare (and often hilarious) exceptions, like a twelve year old girl at the swimming pool loudly telling her dad, "That woman doesn't know what she's getting into" (--man, I can't wait until I am being admonished by teenage triplets!)--with rare exceptions, as I was saying, people have been as amazing as amazed, pleased--elated even, and deferential--generous or supporting in almost all cases.

Just minutes ago, for one example, Suzy was waiting for me outside the bank, and some hippy guy talked with her, asked if he could touch her belly, and then prayed with his hand on her belly that much love and peace come to our children. Yes, it's incredible, what she elicits--she is the symbol, it seems, of tha which binds all of us; and I can tell you these three babies are coming into a world of great love--of the greatest capacity for love. I know CNN would inform you otherwise, but don't let it drown out these anecdotes. I have seen old guys--grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight--I have seen them step back and open the door so Suzy could, relatively speaking, just skip on through.

In fact, Suzy and I went to a Rockies baseball game a few weeks ago and when we were leaving (--leaving early because we both don't really like baseball), ten thousand heads turned in unison and watched her leave (--probably because no one really likes baseball anyway). It was awesome. It was as though she were some superhero or something--some glowing extraterrestrial--"Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis is leaving the building." I know, that's not necessarily an example of kindness (--baseball fans need distractions)--but for most of those heads, I suspect it was. I felt like Wordsworth coming across a host of golden doffodils: "A poet could not but be gay in such jocund company." What a ride it has already been!

Well, here's the latest pictures of Suzy, including two of her on her back. She's not quite as tall lying down as she is standing up, but she is in all ways beautiful--what sunrise can compare to that?!

Anyway, Suzy's slowing down considerably. She is not on bed rest, but she aint moving that much either. Now and again, I try to give her a little help getting up, pushing or pulling. A week ago, in fact, I almost pushed her over--oops!--I just thought she needed a little extra help. I mean, she asked for it, which she usually doesn't do, and there, always, is that incredible belly--so I pushed--yea, pushed her to a standing position, and apparently almost right on over it, onto the hard wood floor. See? Kindness everywhere--except in those she most depends on...

Well, we keep a pretty tight circle--with an occasional visit to her mom down the way. Two weeks from tomorrow, this whole thing goes down. Keep your fingers crossed for us...

Happy Birthday!

2009-08-05T21:29:00.000-07:00

No, the babies are not yet born. But Suzy is 31. Yep, as many of you know, Suzy turned 31 a couple of days ago. In other words, she is an old lady. Don't believe me? Check out the picture.

Well, you'll have to take my word for it. Unfortunately, that's the longest shot I could take of her anymore. Yes, the belly has grown and is growing still. The house shrinks. I shrink. The world map in the basement gains longitudinal lines. Awesome! There simply isn't a better word: awesome.

And Suzy's swell. Incredibly, she is still moving around as she wishes. She has had some trouble sleeping lately, but, at this point, any trouble only seems to remind us how lucky she has been: so little trouble, so far into her "at risk" pregnancy.

We went to our last appointment with our specialist. All things are looking up. That means we have crossed the threshold before which they would have tried to postpone birth. That's right, if it comes, it comes. Paris, that means August 24th is still in play. In fact, our specialist told us of another triplet mama who had been doing as well as Suzy and who went into labor one day before her scheduled c-section. If that happens, Paris and the triumviri will share their birthdays.

The babies are all over 4 lbs. each, the cervix is the right length, and we are within three weeks of our c-section date. Next appointment is in two days.

Way to go, Old Lady.

Babyies' Room, Belly Grows and Letter of Gratitude

2009-07-29T14:19:00.000-07:00

Hey people, we are two days away from our last appointment with the specialist, but I figured I would give you a picture of Suzy's ever-growing belly (--it's like she's that girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who eats the blueberry gum--minus the blueness). In case you need some scale, here's a picture of three pregos. Are you ready for this? The brunette is 2 weeks less pregnant than Suzy, and the blond is 2 weeks more pregnant than Suzy. Yea, amazing.

And, a bit concerning, these are the monsters that have found their way into the kids' bedroom. Ooo, scary.

Now, Suzy and I have our sights on the future--baby rooms, parenting books and hand-me-downs--a future that is rapidly making itself the present. Our sights are there, as they should be, as I am sure yours are too, but it was my good friend Andy Hieb a few weeks ago who indirectly reminded me to look at the life that is ours now, before this great juncture; and that reminder brought a huge smile to my face. Yes, before The Arrival, there is something I want to do, lest I should fail to find time or energy to do it afterwards: I want to thank you, all of you.

Suzy and I love each other ardently, and the shock of having triplets has matured into a joyous reception of miraculous luck (--though, I think we'll be using four different types of birth control ever after this), but whatever we are, and whatever is ours, we know we owe it in large part to you.

I will refrain from using your specific names and from recalling instances of our companionship (--I mean, one can't spend a whole day blogging), but will you do me a favor? Stop reading this, close your eyes, and imagine just one moment you shared with one or both of us--a moment that contains, somehow in our mutual memory, the entire meaning of our relationship, what it was and what it will be. But leave tomorrow to tomorrow. Recall your own picture here of you and one of us from the past--no babies, unless we were the babies--and insert it here...

Did you do it? Seriously, do it...

Now, you are beginning to understand why there is so much warrant to punctuate this juncture with our gratitude. (Did you think I would miss this moment?) Of course, we all have lots of life ahead of us--yes, I will be thanking many of you for help and friendship and love on behalf of all FIVE of us soon. But in this moment of reflection, propped up by so great a destiny as now beckons Suzy and me, I have become acutely grateful for the spirit of your generosity throughout both of our lives: I speak of your model--your own wonderful mode of appreciating friendship and family, as much as of any clear display or proof of concern for and joy in us. Know that it is your love, always lacking eyes for its own effect, that inspires us now to provide for our future family in such kind.

Whoa! does that make sense? It doesn't need to--we love you, and are grateful for everything you mean to us. That's all. That's everything.

Thank you.

Daa Naa, Daa Naa...

2009-07-24T09:39:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water... We had another ultrasound two days ago, and everything seems to be on course. I don't have a picture of the sonogram, but through a new complicated technology called Crayola, I have tried to duplicate what Suzy and I see at our weekly doctor visits. What do you think?

Here, also is a picture of Suzy's belly. She's all belly, even to me. The other day, I was introducing Suzy to a former student we had run into, and I actually introduced her as her belly. Yea, I said, "This is my wife Suzy," and suddenly realized that I had my hand on her belly and was looking only at it--and smiling proudly. Yea, oops! Apparently, the rest of her is all appendage...

Nothing to report today, except that Suzy is continuing to do extraordinarily well. Doctors are very pleased, though there is always the sense that the three miracles can make their grand entrance at any time. Aside from that, we have also set up the last four appointments (assuming we get that far). Here's the schedule:
July 31st--Last appointment with our specialist. That date signals the end of any attempt to forestall labor if it should come early.
August 7th--normal ultrasound.*
August 11th--normal ultrasound.*
August 19th--normal ultrasound.*
August 25th-- C-section.

*Of course, it's funny to think that any of all this could pass as normal.

Now throw into that schedule a soccer camp and the school year starting, and you can get how quickly August will happen for us. Like lightning. Oh, by the way, I soon will send out emails to announce a meeting to all of you who said you would be willing and able to volunteer to help us get pass our first few months (--it will be at our place around August 15th or so--we're waiting to see what Suzy's mom's schedule will be).
I'll update this again soon. Keep checking back. Joe

We're Taking Over

2009-07-17T15:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a picture of Suzy filling and using her fast growing belly (--seriously, it's already twice as big as this--and this picture was taken yesterday--or a couple of weeks ago).

It's the 17th of July, in the year of Our Ford. Suzy is now 30 weeks and 5 days pregnant with two boys and a girl, as I am sure you all know. Their names will most likely be Golgatha, Hertle, and Jim, and if all goes as planned (and that's a big "if"), they will make their grand entrance on Tuesday, August 25th.

We just went in for our weekly ultrasound this morning, and all news is good. The babies are basically the same weight (about 3 lbs.), and as of today they are practice-breathing (apparently a great sign). For his part, Joe is over-emotional about everything and fluctuating in weight more than Suzy. In fact, we aren't sure Joe isn't pregnant also, though no one has thought to do an ultrasound on him. Nooo, all the attention goes to Suzy and the three night owls--screw Joe...

Anyway, I am sorry for the lack of updates. But just as we are planning to do with the world, we are now taking over the blog--that's our fair warning.

Thank you Hannah and Katie for getting us this far. Suzy and I are both morons when it comes to blogs, but we'll try to figure it out. Thank you all for your support and interest and patience.

The Wieners... ahem... I mean Winners!

2009-04-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

I got a phone call from Suzy and Joey today and they sang me a very lovely song which revealed, in true Destef fashion, the sex of the triplets! Drum roll please...

Two Boys, One Girl

They also found out that each of the triplets is healthy and developing well and that the two most active little buggers are the boys, and the more docile of the three is the girl.

Thank you to everyone who placed their bets on the sex of the triplets. Andy, Tom, Elizabeth, Julie, Sara, Kory, and Moche all guessed correctly, but the winner, drawn from the hat by my colleague Jayson just moments ago, is Sara! Sara Lew will receive 2 cigars and 1 rose for her clairvoyance. Enjoy!

Stay tuned for photos of Suzy's belly, ultrasound images, and more.

Thanks Everyone!

Boys? Girls? Both? Find out Thursday!

2009-04-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

Suzy and Joey find out the sex of the triplets tomorrow! So if you want to wager on the sex of the teeny tiny D-stuffs, do it by 12pm MDT tomorrow, Thurs. April 16th. We'll post the sex online and announce the winner of that category as well.

Thank you to everyone who has so generously donated to the Destefano Triplets fund thus far. Your donations may not win you the affection of the newborns, but you can be proud that you've provided the funds to keep their little bums squeaky clean!

To place a wager or donate, see the post Clairvoyance on the Cooker.

Clairvoyance on the Cooker

2009-02-25T21:30:00.001-08:00

As you all know, Suzy and Joey D. are pregnant. Pregnant times THREE (check out the ultrasound image above!)

Their entire lives are about to multiply in chaos by three. Their monthly expenses are about to increase by three. The amount of body hair in their home is about to grow three times what it is now (pause for collective groan.)

This website is your chance to follow along with and participate in the development of this great new family.

We'll post photos and keep you updated on the progress and growth of the triplets (A, B, and C), Suzy's amazing belly, and Joey's incredible head hair. You can bookmark this page and visit as often as you'd like as well as post comments for Suzy, Joey, and those little developing DeStefanos throughout the pregnancy.

We are also conducting a fundraiser for all the little tiny things and the very large items that Suzy and Joey and those three little DeStefanos are going to need in the very near future.

There are 2 ways to donate money to Suzy and Joey:

Click on the DONATE button below and donate whatever amount you desire.
Make a guess as to the

sex of the triplets ($5.00/guess);
the birth order of the triplets ($5.00/guess) and/or;
the date on which the triplets will make their grand entrance into Suzy and Joey's arms ($5.00/guess).

We will announce the most clairvoyant persons in each category as soon as we know the answers. One winner will be selected for each category with a really cool prize to reward the winner for her/his lucidity. Ties will be broken by drawing names out of a hat (oh yeah, we're old school). We will post the results here and if you are the top dog in a category, we'll post your name too and send you a prize.

Guess the Sex of Triplets

Three Boys

Three Girls

Two Girls, One Boy

Guess the Order of the Triplets (for the multiple sex options above)

Girl, Girl, Boy

Girl, Boy, Girl

Boy, Girl, Girl

Boy, Boy, Girl

Boy, Girl, Boy

Girl, Boy, Boy

Guess the Triplets' Date of Birth

When you check out, there will be an option to add special instructions to the seller. Please enter the date there.

Straight Up Donations