I find it highly amusing when people call me a Supermom for having triplets (as if I had any choice in the matter). This morning, it occurred to me (and not for the first time) that for me, it’s easier to have three than it would be to have just one.
Because I’m lazy.
Because there are three of them, I can leave them in their cribs until they’re 4, and I don’t have to teach them to sleep in a toddler bed. No one will bat an eye (or they’d better not!) because I can use the excuse “but they’re triplets! They’ll become a roving pack of wild toddlers if they’re not confined to their cribs!” Same with potty training. If I had one little boy, I might have bought a potty already. But the thought of going out in public and getting three little boys to use the bathroom sends chills down my spine. Not to mention the accidents…times three.
I propped their bottles when they were old enough to sit in their high chairs. I didn’t rock them to sleep, and they had to learn to fall asleep after being put in their crib awake. I didn’t nurse them, and they never slept in our bed. I bathe them a couple of times a week at best. When you have triplets, you learn all sorts of tricks to make things go more efficiently, things that you might not consider when you have just one.
Am I sad that I didn’t get to rock a baby to sleep every night, or nurse, or at least cuddle with my infant while he ate his bottle?
Sure I am.
But there’s the whole “entertaining each other” aspect that helps make up for it.
Too bad it often culminates in “fighting with each other” though. Hmmm…
Ah well. In the end, it’s really not that bad. Mostly because it’s all we’ve ever known.