Cheryl, in discussing her son, Conrad's, 3-year old behavior, noted that she needs to block out the advice of friends and family on how she should be handling her child -- in public, thank you.

It raised up for me some of my own frustrations stemming from the seemingly engraved invitation that the world receives to critique one's parenting skills and capabilities when a mother has more babies/children than hands.

I thought we might have fun comparing notes on some of our favorite memories of "interferences" based upon the presumption that we surely cannot be competent to take care of "all of them" at once.

One of my personal favorites was: When the babies were tiny, and I was like a mother bear, having just retrieved them out of the NICU, having nearly lost Caeleigh twice one afternoon just two weeks prior to her release; having been told that they feared she had a biliary atresia (which is a death sentence); and, having lost one baby -- oh, and both of the babies still on apnea monitors -- I took them to church in the limo stroller that I had acquired for my triplets.

Well, the last thing in the world I wanted was to have anyone touch them at all, thank you. But, unlike all other newborn singletons, there did not seem to be a magical sign over the top of either baby that read, "YOU TOUCH AND THE MOTHER WILL LIKELY TAKE YOUR FACE OFF." I was never aware that these signs were posted over singletons before, but became wildly aware of it once I took my babies out because I still have never seen anyone come up to the stroller of a singleton and snatch the baby out of the stroller without so much as a "by your leave?" I still have never seen anyone dare to simply reach over and snatch a singleton out of his mother's arms -- as a "favor to her."

I pushed my stroller up to the sanctuary, and trust me, I had EVERYTHING under control. The stroller was set up into 3 little beds with hoods, and each baby was securely snugged in, sleeping, in one of the little beds. The third little bed held the apnea monitors and a nicely packed diaper bag, complete with a bottle for each wee one. I was well-equipped to care for my babies as they slept through the service, and looking forward to the peace of being able to listen to the sermon for the first time since the babies were born in January -- you know, ladies, RSV season didn't end until about mid-April...

So, I arrive at the church, and there must have been a large sign over the top of the stroller -- "Free to good homes." People walked up and simply reached in and grabbed. While I was leaning to one side to retrieve one baby, the second one came flying out of the other bassinet. I was panicking and one of the women standing by patted me on the shoulder and said, "Oh, honey, we know you need help." I wanted to rip faces off or tell them what I really thought. (Oh, and my mother was also dying at the time, so I was pretty frazzled and really protective of the babies.)

Anyway, I was this single woman with two infants where there were supposed to be three, but even if I'd had all three with me, I'm certain I would have felt the same way.

This continued to happen no matter where I was. I could be in the grocery store and perfect strangers would start to reach out and "help" me with my babies -- of course, if they were truly strangers in the grocery store I would issue a stern, "Excuse me, they're not kittens. Please don't touch."

I also get "wonderful advice" from folks on how to deal with my children -- oh, and ladies, I'm not talking about the excellent advice and commiseration I find here. I'm talking about the "oh, you poor dear, you must be so overwhelmed, and it's obvious you need my input" type of advice from well-meaning people who have never raised multiples.

So, you got any stories to share?? Am I alone in this? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! I SO DOUBT THIS!!!

Come on. Pull out some of your best ones and let's share!!

Cat w/3 Kittens
Caidan, Carina and Caeleigh
Born at 31 weeks, 1/8/04.
It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. In memory of Carina, who was greatly loved.

http://b3.lilypie.com/bDA