Tripletshouse turns one!

On this Valentine’s day our triplets reach four years of age. As we have only recently undergone a sad loss, there is no real celebration- just cutting the cake, singing ‘Happy Birthday’, and that’s it. A small family occasion. We can take the cake to their anganwadi on 15^th, Monday, and share our joy. I shall post the pictures then.

Incidentally, in the same week, my blog also becomes a year old. During my triplet pregnancy bedrest days I used to write small notes- about our treatment, pregnancy, complications etc. During those days of anxiety and confusion, many websites and blogs helped clear my many doubts. So I wanted to give back to the virtual community- I wanted to share my experiences too, so it can be helpful to ladies- aspiring to be pregnant, or pregnant with multiples, or wondering about symptoms of OHSS, or worrying about their inability to breastfeed etc. However once my babies came to our life, there was no stopping or looking back, or even a pause- it was all a mad rush- that is, until they turned three. Three year old children suddenly act more matured! And the real fun starts then, playng together, role- play, super hero worship, curiosity about everything etc. But this also leaves a little fee time to the parents as children become more understanding, that is, they give a bit more consideration to their slaves' needs.  So I also got a few minutes to spare every day and started typing my written notes hence publishing my blog, initially a private one. By their third birthday, I completed all the entries and scheduled the posts as they happened- narrating the incidents in present tense. On February 14^th 2015 I made the blog public and shared it in Facebook. So many of my friends read the posts and gave very kind and encouraging comments (in Facebook), and many others sent me messages. I was overjoyed, but then I had finished saying almost everything I had to say. So I stopped publishing any new posts.

Gradually I learned something about blogging. I started the blog so that if someone did a search about OHSS or triplet pregnancy in Kerala, they got to read my experiences and thus gain some insight or at least felt better. But as I stopped posting, my blog was losing some of its visibility. Also I got a number of private messages from friends or even strangers (many of who later became my friends), asking for more details, seeking reassurances etc. I found that this was an area where I could really vent myself- share the stories or feel lighter after a stressful day. So I continued writing, and this time I concentrated on parenting and raising triplets in Kerala. Once I resumed, I found that I had many things to share- about our culture and customs, places to visit, kiddie talks, stories, information about preschools, even a few parenting tips! I found that I enjoyed every bit of it, so here I am, wishing many many happy returns of the day to www.tripletshouse.blogspot.com !

Thirty Fingernails to Polish!

It is past 9 pm. Long past bed time for most 4-year old kids, but my triplets are still not ready for bed. Dinner is over, and now they have to brush and take a quick body bath and go to bed. I pick up Ramu to brush his teeth and he is screaming, ‘No..No…NONONO!’ I know he is very sleepy, that is why the tantrum. He simply doesn’t want to go to bed. He is jerking and jumping in my arms, he has a bat and a ball in his hands and he wants to play cricket, now! He wants me to throw the ball. I say no way, and he is getting louder. ‘Throw the ball, throw the ball’, when I suddenly say- ‘There once lived a HUGE whale in an ocean (He is quiet all of a sudden, he loves stories), the whale had two little babies and both of them loved to play cricket (His eyes are wide now, imagining the scene, and I gently prop him on my lap and start brushing), but there was a problem- the ball wouldn’t bounce in the ocean water! Now the whale babies cried and mama whale thought, ‘let me ask the sea turtle’. She goes to the sea turtle and tells the problem (Brushing done, we have started the body bath). The turtle agreed to help and she went inside her house. When she came out she had a ball in her hands. She said ‘this ball will bounce’, and the baby whales started to play. Younger one threw the ball and in did bounce in the water(!) and went to the batsman, the elder baby whale, who hit the ball to the boundary! (We have done the bath, I am dressing him in his pajamas, he is still imagining) Now what was the ball? It was the baby turtle with its neck inside the shell! Since the ball hit the hard shell, it did not hurt, and at the end of the day baby turtle and baby whales became thick friends and played every day from then on’.

When the story is over he is in bed, and within five minutes he is sure to fall asleep. By now my little girl Malu has spotted my nail polish and wants me it put it for her. Only then she would come to brush. Okay, in two minutes I finish polishing all ten fingernails and she brushes fast (I do it in quickly and quietly- else the boys also will come running, demanding that I polish their nails too, right now. That's what happens usually). She wants a story too, and I tell her one from Panchatanthra while we finish the bath. Now I need to get my third sweetie pie to brush and he is screaming his heart out sitting under the staircase demanding to buy a batman suit at this very moment. (Both Ramu and Malu don’t seem to be aware of the tantrums- Ramu is about to sleep, and Malu is telling some story to herself, lying on the bed). No, nothing but the suit can pacify Balu. Still I give a try- depending on the knowledge that he loves his studies. I say loudly to my mother (so I can be heard above his screams) – “Mother, can you give five words that start with ‘T’”? Mother is quick to catch up and she starts words. The screams from below the staircase stopped all of a sudden. Good. After ‘T’, I ask mother to say words with E’, and lo! Balu comes out saying ‘Elephant’ and laughing. I quickly grab him and finish the brushing and bathing, while still continuing the word play. By the time Balu is in bed, I am totally exhausted.

Being a professor of Architecture, I had spent that whole day attending to students’ design reviews in college, commenting and correcting their designs. After reaching home, I had spent all the time playing with the kids and feeding them. Now after my own bath, I can barely move and I sit the bed and close my eyes.  Today is a day when I used the ‘Sama’ and ‘Dana’ techniques of diplomacy. I am not a supermom. Far from it. I survive because both my parents, despite their age, take active part in raising my triplets, and love doing it. I stay sane because my husband spends most of his after- office hours with the kids, thus relieving me. And yet I have my days of stress when I yell at my kids, they scream and cry and I have to threaten them with a stick (my ‘Bheda’ technique). Thankfully I restrain myself from using the stick (no ‘Danda’), but after the yells and screams, all of us are tired, and my kids go to sleep teary-eyed, and by the time I get to bed, I am full of regrets. After all they are kids. If it was one child, would I lose patience so easily? I ask myself. Wouldn’t I try to pacify him/ her with all the love and sweet-talk in the world? Because it is three at a time, I get tired, stressed and end up yelling and shouting.

A small and sweet kiss warms my cheek and I open my eyes. ‘Amma is very tired,’ Malu is whispering to the boys after kissing me. They also move towards me, kiss me and hug me and instantly fall asleep- Ramu in my lap, Malu and Balu in each of my arms.  There is a tiny smile on three angelic faces, and I thank and thank God for all the blessings that He is showering upon us.

A sad note

My mother in law passed away recently. Now there is a deep void in our life, a loss we are yet unable to accept, an overwhelming sadness. However this post is on my triplets response to the sadness and loss. How does the death of a loved one affect a four year old child? Does he really understand what death is, that it is permanent? I think they do, their grief is real, and their love, unconditional.

My triplets (one month shy of 4-year old) were very fond of  her. They met her for the first time when they were two months or so old. As toddlers they were not very friendly with relatives whom they see only once in a while. However, to her they had a surprising affection, which was quite mutual. From the beginning they behaved as if they had always known her- they chattered in the very friendly and familiar way. She was unwell and bedridden for the last year or so, and we used to visit her occasionally, about once in two months. Whenever they saw her they gave her water in a glass to drink, placing the glass near her lips, sat with her and sang nursery rhymes, told her stories of their nursery friends. On most of the days at home they used to refer to her, about something that she said, or something they imagined about her. They called her Dodda, meaning grandmother in Tulu. Probably their love for her came from the fact that their father adored her, or probably from the unexplained bonding of blood. In the last few months she could not even sit up without help, and my kids visited her for the last time, about a month back. We were planning another visit in the weekend, when the tragedy happened. At first we didn't know whether and how to tell the kids about it.

Balu with Dodda

Raman with Dodda

Now, I knew that they had an idea what death was. Their first encounter with it came when a kitten in our house- a tiny one, one week old- died due to birth problems. They saw how she was not moving, how dad buried her. Afterwards when they saw 'Lion King', they were very sad when Mufasa died, and they became hopeful later when Mufasa came in the clouds to lead Simba towards the right way. Still later they saw 'Spider-Man 3' in which Harry Osborn died and was buried. The ever-curious trio asked me for explanations, how the kitten was buried without a coffin whereas Harry had it, how come Harry or the kitten did not appear in the clouds etc. I told them the difference between burying an animal and a human, and that everyone who did good would have a place among the stars, but their loved ones could see them when they really, really needed them for guidance. My mother told them about rebirth- when one person dies, the soul could be reborn, and the cycle could continue. This satisfied them. Surprisingly, the concept of the mortal body, the immortal soul and rebirth did not confuse them at all! They also learned about heaven and hell, God and Devil, from (can you believe it?) 'Tom&Jerry'- in one of the stories called 'Heavenly Pass', they show Tom seeing both Heaven, Hell and the Devil. This particular cartoon educated them quite a lot, when we had a chance to discuss how the virtues on earth leads one to heaven, how wrong-doing, which essentially means harming someone or deliberately causing sorrow to someone, leads one to hell etc. Then again, they were familiar with stories of Ramayana where Jadayu, Sampathi, Baali, Kumbhakarna and Ravana die.

Thus, arming myself to face untimely and loud questioning, I took the trio to pay respect to their Dodda, to give a drop of theertham (holy water) to her still lips. They stared at the body and asked why she was lying on the floor and not on the cot, why there were lit lamps near her. When I softly and gently told them that she was no more, it took a while for them to digest it. There was surprise, a little fear, then the effort to comprehend it. They did not cry. They looked at her face for a long, long time, and watched all the procedures for the funeral. Gradually the cloud lifted, and they were back to their innocent selves. They started talking to each other assuring each other that Dodda's soul must be in Heaven, with God now, or possibly with the stars. She might take a rebirth too. No one but me completely understood what they were saying in their kiddish chit-chat. All this made me feel guilty for taking them there because the mourning sons, daughters and in-laws, including their own parents were finding it difficult to hold back tears and the loud chatter was so out of place. But then I had to do that, too. I had to make sure that they knew what happened to their beloved Dodda, else they might wonder about it when they visit her house next time and not see her. It was important they understood that everyone and everything had to go one day.  I took them there thinking all this, and in turn they taught me few lessons- that a child is never too young to understand death, however their perception of death is not as a permanent loss, but as one occurrence in a continuum. It is not losing hope, but being hopeful about the continuing life cycle. These thoughts come after processing bits of information they gather from adults, but as an adult I might never come to terms with death as they do- with innocence, certainty and hope.

Reflections

‘Teri aankhon ke siwa duniya mein rakha kya hai

in mein mere aane waale zamaane ki tasveer hai

chaahat ke kaajal se likhi hui meri taqdeer hai

ye uthe subah chale ye jhuke shaam dhale

mera jeena mera marna inhi palkon ke tale’

Loosely translated-

What is there in this world except your eyes

In them (I can see) the image of my future (generations)

Also my destiny, written with the kohl of love

When they look up, morning sun shines, when they are cast down, twilight comes

My life and my demise depend on these eyelashes…

A smitten lover sings this beautiful song to his lady love, in the movie ‘Chiraag’ (1969) (lyricist : Majrooh Sultanpuri, music: Madan Mohan, singer: Mohammed Rafi). I especially like the line- 'in mein mere aane waale…’- (The exact translation would be ‘In your eyes resides the image of my time that is yet to come’, but I prefer the loose translation). It talks not about a momentary infatuation, nor a love that will last a life time, not even a love between two people that is eternal. But it talks about a bond that had been, and will be continuing through generations. It is not between two people alone. When he looks into her eyes, he can see how his sons and daughters are going to be like, and their sons and daughters, too. And when he sees his daughter, he can see a part of his own, and her (his lover lady’s) own, mother, and grandmother. They are just a couple in a timeless bond, a bond that is so natural, so much a part of evolution, that there is no way it can be broken, no way it cannot exist.

In India generally marital bond is (or at least, it was) considered timeless, a strong bond between families, between clans, communities, kingdoms, generations. We have that culture encoded in our system and so it is taken for granted that once married, we remain married, forever. Usually a young couple’s married life is colorful and joyful in the first few years. Then it becomes even more joyful and meaningful once a baby enters their lives. The whole family- including all relatives take part in the rearing of the children, and children are supposed to belong not only to the parents, but to the entire family, their past and future generations. The right for taking decisions on the children’s education, their diet, clothing, play times etc. are vested upon everyone. This has changed considerably in the recent past (in a way for good, in a way for bad) still some values of the bygone culture remains. And that gives us a certain assurance and feeling of security when we think about our family relationships.

Why am I telling this now? Will tell you in the next post.