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7 Things You Should NOT Discuss With Parents of Triplets

When Caroline and I first learned we were expecting triplets, there was much rejoicing.

Then, we sh!t a brick.

Then we told our friends, and there was much rejoicing.

Then they sh!t a brick.

After all, these were the very same men and women who frequently lamented about the difficulty of parenting a child. Or two children. With good reason. I mean, Caroline and I already knew from our oldest that this parenting gig can be kinda rough.

So just how rough, they must have been wondering, would handling three children at once prove to be? After nearly five years of extensive research in the field, I have an answer:

Very.

Especially once Grand Finale’s arrival officially turned us into a basketball team a little over a year ago. Which doesn’t make the trials and tribulations of those with only one or two children any less legitimate. But it does make them difficult to hear — you know, if you’re in our shoes. Accordingly, it’s with an optimistic brand of helpful intent that I present to you the following seven things you might wanna avoid discussing with the parents of triplets.

 

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  • The various exploits of your (only) child prodigy 1 of 7
    The various exploits of your (only) child prodigy
    Wow! So junior was reading at three, huh? I've always heard Baby Can Read is a real miracle worker. What? He's learning Spanish? At age five! THAT'S FANTASTIC! Say, tell Rosetta Stone hello for me, will you? I gotta go deal with the triplets real quick. They've just gotten into one of Briggs' week-old efforts and are currently running up and down the driveway hurling dog shit at one another. ¡Ay, Caramba!
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  • Anything pertaining to your childs impressive percentile rankings 2 of 7
    Anything pertaining to your childs impressive percentile rankings
    It's not that we don't know the corresponding percentiles for our kids. It's just that we stopped bringing them up because they led to fist fights. Especially when the triplets learned to count.
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  • Lamentations of privacy limitations such as: I can’teven use the bathroom without my child wanting to come with me 3 of 7
    Lamentations of privacy limitations such as: I can'teven use the bathroom without my child wanting to come with me
    Wow. That must be totally frustrating. In a related story, I'm unable to take a shower without a Montessori class breaking out.
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  • In-laws who watch your kids while you and your spouse go on romantic getaways 4 of 7
    In-laws who watch your kids while you and your spouse go on romantic getaways
    The triplets queered the deal for us on the whole in-law babysitting thing. They require professional supervision. So what you call in-laws, we call a nanny. Well, we call her a nanny because she calls herself a nanny. But she can't fool me. Because the price she levies each and every time my wife and I return from a 48-hour game of footsie in the mountains makes her more of a ruthless capitalist in my book.
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  • Logistical gripes 5 of 7
    Logistical gripes
    Please. I'll take breastfeeding triplets for 500, Alex.
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  • Potty training nightmares 6 of 7
    Potty training nightmares
    Believe me, I get it. Potty training the triplets was like some bad game show where naked, pint-sized contestants sit atop plastic bjorns and bicker as they try to defecate therein. The game show winners get cookies, while all the host gets is an errant stream of urine to the eye from contestant #3 who forgot to "point his pee pee down." My wife and I basically had to morph into ass-wiping octopi with custom-tailored hazmat suits just to make it through those dark days.
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  • Lack of sleep 7 of 7
    Lack of sleep
    Wow. So little Suzy screams though the monitor sporadically throughout the night and it's messing up your sleep, huh? I know how you feel. Our room's equipped with more monitors than the San Diego Zoo, the cries therefrom staggered at what seem to be strategic 90-minute intervals so as to interrupt the maximum amount of sleep possible. Though the cries do eventually relent. You know, when the triplets scurry down to our room and convert our bed into a trampoline as they magically transform into 35-pound pogo sticks at dark-thirty every morning. The impact such mornings have had on my wife and me are so devastating, they actually wrote a book about it: The Naked and the Dead.
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OOOH. I just learned that I have a call holding on line two. It’s a woman with quads and three additional kids. Something about wanting me to get over myself. I think she might be working on a post of her own.

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Read more of JCO Multiplied:
How the DVR Ruined My Vacation in Specific and Parenting in General
Beach Vacation by the Numbers
15 Things Every Stepparent Should Know
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Check out my personal blog over at JohnCaveOsborne(dot)com

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