Triple Trouble

I need to start these posts with a Bridgette Jonesish tally. Time outs: 5 (4 Christmas tree-related), toddler tantrums: 0 (so far), mother tantrums: 1 (pre-coffee, re: christmas tree harassment), cups of coffee: 2.

We put up our Christmas tree Sunday - it has a star in the correct location, not a leprechaun - and while it was not quite the joyous family event portrayed in soft light on TV, it was fun. As fun as can be expected when handing breakable objects to two creatures with the finesse of charging bulls and the instruction retention of small beetles. Two days, six million renditions of twinkle little star and approximately a kajillion time-outs later, I think they believe me about the "no touching" the tree rule. It's worth it for me just to hear them say 'twi-n-kle yights.'

My holiday present to myself is a triple jogger. It's an impressive piece of machinery. I love to take walks in our neighborhood. It's the perfect combination of getting out of the house and total containment of children. I waffled forever about buying one because I coveted the mountain buggy urban triple jogger, which costs enough to support several families in a third world country for a year. I couldn't justify the purchase of a car without a motor. Then, my husband (who actually researches this kind of purchase, instead of just drooling over what he can't have) found a triple jogger on ebay. It was so much more reasonably priced then the Mountain Buggy that I felt like I came into a windfall somehow. So far, it also appears to operate as intended. I can walk with all three kids, the baby can lie down while the toddlers sit up, it's sturdy and feels safe.

I have a few manageable issues. First, it's heavy, especially with three kids in it, so that wrist strap thing has become a vital safety device. Occasionally, on hills, headlines flash through my mind like "Run Away Mega-Stroller Crashes into Car, Babies Live, Car Totaled" or "Woman Dragged 500 Feet by Obnoxiously Large Stroller," but I usually feel like I'm in control. I've also had to revise all of my walks to avoid curbs. My double handled curbs beautifully, but the center of gravity was much lower and I could tilt it back with ease. With the kids up higher in this triple, I have to jump up and come down on the handle with all of my weight to tip it backwards. It doesn't always work and it looks ridiculous. The two-year-olds can reach the baby, but there is a window in the cover, so I can cut off the poking before he loses an eye. The hardest issue for me is the comments. I try not to let my nasty, anti-social, sarcastic side show in public, but at least three well-meaning (I'm sure) people per walk ask if there are really three children in there. Really? I mean, can you think of a reason to push a gigantic triple stroller out into the world that doesn't involve locomotion for three children? I'd love to hear it.

The joy of the triple jogger might seem silly if you haven't experienced the effort required to leave the house with two toddlers and a baby. The baby ties up all available hands and the other two would stand obliviously in the path of a mac-truck and willingly pick up dog poo with their hands. In fact, they'll stand in the path of a mac-truck while examining and perhaps sampling the dog poo that they just picked up with their hands. Unfortunately, it doesn't fit in my mini-van and so most outings still require a lot of verbal reminders not to let go of the baby's stroller and several large sedatives (for me, I swear).

This is why until today I have been monumentally annoyed with our local paper. Several charities in our city run a fabulous annual event called the Christmas Bureau that distributes toys and food vouchers to struggling families. They need to raise over 400K every year. To encourage giving, the local paper runs a front page story about the Bureau every day and prints the names of donors and how much they still need. I decided to start of tradition and take my kids down to the paper's office to donate because it's a neat cause and I want my children to understand the joy of giving and the importance of charity and to realize that they have a lot in the great scheme of the world. And, I thought it would be neat for them (and by them I do mean me) to see their names in the paper.

I bundled them up, loaded them all in the car last Thursday and we drove downtown and parked as close as possible to the office. We still had about three blocks and two large traffic corners to negotiate. I got the baby into the stroller, unbuckled the other two, put my son on the left side of the stroller and my daughter on the right, shouldered the backpack, and we set off at our glacially slow pace reciting our mantra: hold the stroller, there's cars, no letting go, hold the stroller.... . The 30 minute trip to the office went well. (Yes, that is 10 minutes a block and this was a good day.) They rarely let go of the stroller because they don't like my hysterical screeching. The office entrance had stairs and no wheel chair ramp. Horrifying, but we managed to get up. Some kind person held the door while we made our excruciatingly slow way into the building. We donated our money (which took all of 5 minutes out of a 90 minute outing) and reversed the process. Going down the stairs caused momentary panic because they like to go down "on mine bottom" and I have to release them from the stroller holding, always a little daunting in close proximity to the street, but they listened like the perfect, obedient, cooperative darlings that they usually are not.

We made it back to the car with only one minor wipeout in the middle of the street when I tried to hurry them before the 'don't walk' stopped flashing and our little stroller procession became a standing target. My mistake. With the kids reloaded and immobilized in car seats, I took a moment to breathe and then headed for the nearest drive-through Starbucks to congratulate myself. Three days later, when their names had still not appeared in the paper, I was irritated. My husband made fun of me each morning, pointing out, rightfully so, that the point is to give, not to get accolades. Yes, I KNOW, but it's still fun to see your name in print. Obviously, I'm not the only one who likes it because the paper prints all those names for a reason. Given the tortuous process of taking all three children any where by myself, doing a good deed with all of them in tow qualified us for a story all to ourselves as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, their names did finally appear in today's article and while it was a little anti-climatic after all my grousing, it IS fun to see their names in print! Ah, the spirit of giving.