Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Six years later

The funny thing about having a blog is that you need to remember that you actually HAVE a blog.  I've gone without a blog for so long, it kept slipping my mind that I had even "revived" this one.  (Quotation marks, because, let's be honest.  This blog isn't revived yet).  As I approached the littles' 6th birthday, I found myself as I do every year; thinking about what was going on surrounding the days of their birth.

When I was first admitted to the hospital, Brian and I were told that the babies would likely be born that weekend.  At 22 weeks.  Just below the threshold of survivability.  We had to have an excruciating conversation about what interventions, if any, we wanted should they be born then.  Luckily, they held out for almost 4 more weeks, entering a gestation that removed any input from Brian and I.  Per the state of Minnesota (at that time), any baby born after 25 weeks and 0 days gestation was to be given life saving measures.  Littles were born at 25 weeks and 6 days. 

I know I painted a slightly different picture on this blog and social media when they were first born, but they were very sick.  Maybe I was being naive?  Maybe I was protecting my own heart?  Maybe I didn't want to let on to others how touch-and-go it was?  In any case, it was scary.  It made me want to throw up.  I had never felt so completely powerless in something so important in my life.  We had head doctors saying that there wasn't much more they could do, so they hoped the interventions they were doing would work because we were pretty much out of options. 

Luckily, it all worked.  Luckily, they grew bigger and stronger, they began to eat and breathe with less and less difficulty.  Luckily, after 97 amazing, horrible, wonderful, agonizing and unbelievable days in the NICU, we were able to load up the most precious cargo we will ever have and drive it two hours home.

It's hard because here I am, 6 years later, and I still remember things like it happened yesterday.  I remember the feeling when my hospital phone rang at 2 in the morning, with the head Neonatologists calling to tell me that they couldn't get Addison stabilized and I may need to come over to say goodbye.  I remember how a nurse stood right behind me and cheered me (us?) on as I fed Grace her very first bottle - she ate 3 milliliters.  I remember the dread of hearing the code alarm sound in the NICU, even if I knew the alarm wasn't sounding for one of my own; that sound meant another mom was living her worst nightmare.  I remember the friendships I made in those NICU nurses, and how they supported me through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows (I'm looking at you, Laura, Chelsea and Roxanne).

As I spent last weekend celebrating six years with my loves, don't think that I took any of that joy and celebration for granted.  To watch my now healthy children haul full sized inner tubes up 50 stairs, so that they could then be rushed down a waterslide, all while squealing happily, was astounding.  The amazingness of our circumstances are not lost on me.  I know that miracles are possible when I look into their faces.

What's the point of this post?  I don't know.  Maybe to get it out there that while I am insanely happy every year when we celebrate their birth, I'm also thrown into a plethora of memories.  The unexpected arrival of two tiny girls and one tiny boy, born 15 weeks before they were supposed to be born, doesn't define us, but it has certainly shaped us.

Six years.  Just like that.  Amazing.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Did it get easier

Now that the kids are older, some of the weirder questions I used to get asked have faded away (Did you breastfeed is one question that sticks out), the most common question I get from people is "Has it gotten easier?  I'm sure it's gotten easier."


Uh.  Well.  No.

It's gotten different.  Not easier.  Not harder  Different.  (Maybe just the tiniest bit harder).

When they were babies, the physical work was exhausting.  Feeding, burping, changing, rocking, bathing three infants is very physically demanding and time consuming.  But.  Three infants to don't whine about how they hate what you made for supper.  Three infants don't tell you that you put the wrong socks on them and they won't leave the house with the shoes you've picked out.  Three infants don't have the capability to play "kitties" with each other, which will inevitably escalate into "jaguars", which will end with someone slamming into a wall and blaming someone else for it.  I never had to say "Stop licking your brother" or "PLEASE put some underwear on" to infants.   

That's not to say that this age is all worse than the infant stage.  Now I can shove send them outside and watch them play on the swingset while I get dishes done.  Now, I can send them each to their corner with a book and tell them that mommy is going to take her own timeout and if I hear a PEEP from any of them while I'm in timeout there WILL NOT BE DESSERT AT DINNER.  They can pick out their own outfits, get themselves dressed, dish their own food and help with the meal prep.  Now I can ask them about their day and what they did.  They can help each other with their homework (all in the same class, so all the same homework.  AMAZING.)  They can tell me in real words what their favorite things were.  We can have conversations.  This latter part is super awesome and maybe one of my favorite things.  

So when I see other multiple moms out and about, I always want to walk up to them and yell "Hang in there!!  It gets easier!!"  Except....it doesn't.  It just changes.  

But, isn't that the same for all moms?  

Monday, October 2, 2017


The last time I wrote a "regular post was close to the end of 2014.  Basically three years ago.  In that three years the Koobers have:

Celebrated a 3rd, 4th and 5th birthday
Mastered the art of negotiation
Finished a year of preschool
Learned to decode the words that the adults in our household spell (Brian - "Hey, do you want some i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m?"  Grace- "WHO IS HAVING ICE CREAM??)
Learned to assert themselves
Almost mastered the art of tying a shoe
Lost 12 single shoes
Become heavy enough that I can't hoist them up without them either 1. Them jumping up to assist me or 2. Groaning
Graduated from the wagon, the stroller, the carrier, or anything else that would speed our treck through busy areas.
Developed their own amazing personalities (They honestly couldn't be any more different.  We definitely have an oldest, a middle and a youngest.)

So,  there you go.  They are now five (AND A HALF, adds Addison) and are as stubborn and outspoken and silly and wonderful and loving and stubborn and inquisitive and stubborn as any other five (AND A HALF) year olds.  Consider yourself caught up :)

Thursday, September 14, 2017


There have been so many times in the past three years that I've thought "That would be such a great blog post" or "Man, I'd love to write about that."  Then I would log onto blogger, read through old posts, and think about all the memories that were logged through this site.  Through these posts.

I've missed it.  I want to come back.  I need to come back.  There are so many reasons I want this space, but yet, I can't put into words why exactly I want it.  All I know is that this space is important to me and I'm really feeling pulled back into it.  It's like your favorite sweater.  You can't put your finger on why it is your favorite, but there is just something so comforting about putting it on.  So loved and warm.

So, with that, I can tell you  that I'm going to be posting here again.  Our daily antics.  Amusing stories.  Funny pictures.  Life with three 5 year olds (who are now in KINDERGARTEN.  HOW DID THAT HAPPEN.) Random thoughts from a mom who doesn't have it all together.

Aaaahhhhhh.  It is just so good to be back here.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

"The last reason, and quite possibly the biggest reason, is that this is so incredibly public.  Yes, I know most of you readers personally.  BUT, I have had it happen before that complete strangers have walked up to me and said "Oh, I love reading your blog!  How are the kids?!"  To me, this is becoming unnerving..."

Remember that paragraph?  It was one of the final paragraphs in my *previous* final post on this blog.  I was posting about my lack of blogging, and explaining why I was becoming uneasy continue posts in this space.

You know what else is unnerving?  Having a complete stranger come to this space, steal my pictures and information, and pass it off as their own.

If you scroll down, you may notice that this page is missing something.  Quite a bit of something.  All of my previous posts something.  Don't worry, I didn't delete them all.  I still have them all saved on the backspace of this blog.  I can read them and revisit them anytime I would like to.  But....why aren't they here?  Because someone actually pulled a bunch of pictures from this blog and passed them off as their own.  Someone was claiming that they were expecting triplets....the same triplets that are currently snuggled in my bed watching IPTV on a lazy first day of 2015.  Someone had taken my profile picture and said that it was them.

I'm sad that this space will end this way, but I feel I need to give an explanation why "The Koobers" is no more.  Yes, it's unnerving that a complete stranger would approach me in a store to talk about my own children.  But it's even more unnerving that someone would steal photos and information and try to pass it off as themselves for their own gain. 

I'm on facebook, so if you still need a Koober fix you can friend me there.  But, I guess as far as this blog is concerned, this really is it.  Thanks for being a part of our story. Thanks for the prayers, the comments, the support, all of it.  We treasure it more than you could possibly know.