My Diary of Triplet Fatherhood

Less than a week to go now until my little pirate crew takes its first shore leave; Mad Dog Evie, Red Scarlett and Jem Lad will set of on an adventure of their own, away from the watchful eye of Captain Dad.

You see, pre-school begins next week. For three hours each day, my three girls will be experiencing their first taste of school life, with all its highs and lows, unfamiliarities and excitements. And all without me or J there to watch out for them. I’m sure the fact that there’s three of them should make me worry less, but it doesn’t. They’re still so young. Only a few weeks ago they were still two years old.

And it seems so unfair that I should be losing them already. Their due date was in September. But by being born prematurely in August, they have jumped ahead a whole school year. That’s one less year of piratical plundering, one less year of fun, one less year I get to keep them to myself.

And I know it’s selfish to not want the bubble around us to be popped. They’ll probably love the whole experience. We have fun at home but don’t get to draw, paint, glue and cut as much as I’m sure they’d like to. Pre-school will give them an environment where they will get to engage in activities I’m often just too busy to supervise.

And they can make friends, learn, be stretched. Learn independence.

And then, one day, far away in the future, they’ll sail away, find their own first mate, recruit a crew of their own.

It’s surely every parent’s responsibility to teach their children right from wrong. How to treat others with the same dignity you would expect from them. Not to lie, steal, cheat, hurt or otherwise abuse the property, persons or emotions of others. To give as well as take, to acknowledge that others have feelings and rights, too.

These are not easy things to grasp when you’re just turning three years old. It’s just not in the nature of small children to look past their own immediate environment. Both the future and other people come second to whatever need or activity holds their attention at a particular moment, and it’s up to the adults in their life to guide them from this state to one where they will be capable of guiding their own children towards responsible adulthood. It’s up to us, in other words, to civilise the little barbarians in our lives.

And in this it strikes me that multiples have a natural advantage. From the moment of birth they are learning to share. At first it’s the attention of the parents they must share, as well as learning to accept that they must sometimes wait for feeds and changes.

Then, as their awareness grows, they must learn to share toys and play time; interacting with another person who is at exactly the same stage of development providing the perfect opportunity to figure out how to make the situation work without one or another sibling being much stronger or older than the other.

And although they are getting there (”I don’t mind sharing with my sisters” being one of Scarlett’s recent catchphrases), it’s always us, the parents, who are there to settle disputes, to point out rights and wrongs, to guide their learning.

Which brings me on to the subject that has been troubling me of late. On our recent holiday, it struck both J and I that the time when we could go for cheap days out would soon be ending. As it was, we generally only had to pay for adults, under threes being allowed free entry into most activities (another advantage of young multiples).

We love taking the girls out for the day and even when not on holiday, tend to do something most weekends. So the thought of cutting back on the number of trips we make was upsetting. Of course, it next occurred to us that no one would necessarily know if the girls remained two for just a little while longer than their actual third birthday. Not long, you understand. Just another ten, maybe twenty, years. OK – maybe not quite that long, but you get the idea.

Yet there was one obvious pitfall to our cunning plan. What would happen if we asked for two-year old tickets in the girls’ presence? Surely one or another of them would pipe up to correct our mistake. And so we warned them not to worry if sometimes Mummy or Daddy told people that they were two years old when they weren’t really. It was just “a joke”.

As with so many things at that age, they took in what we said without question. Only – and this is the bit that has been troubling me – it wasn’t a joke. It was a lie. And one that, for them, was both obvious and serious, because the difference between two and three is a big deal when you are the three year old in question.

As I reflected on our conversation, I realised that what we were essentially telling them was that their Mummy and Daddy lie, that it’s alright to lie and, even worse, we were involving them in the lies that we were telling, encouraging the exact same behaviour that at other times they are punished for. Talk about mixed messages!

Looked upon in that light, I can’t help thinking that an extra few quid in the pocket is too steep a price to pay for both confusing my children and failing in my own responsibilities as a parent. It may seem trivial but in my (admittedly limited) experience of parenthood, it’s all about small steps – small lessons learned each day. I find my children respond best to simple messages conveyed with consistency and that, despite being young, they have a sharp nose for any incongruity in those messages.

So it is that while, as triplets, my daughters may have a small natural advantage when it comes to learning the harder lessons on the path to becoming civilised, without J and I must mark the way for them with our own actions, it will do them little good.

And I guess they’re not the only ones benefiting from this recent bought of conscience. No, I’m not referring to the owners of local attractions who will get three child entrance fees added to their daily takings. Having to act responsibly for the sake of my kids has made me shine a light on my own morality. What value do I place on truth? How do I rate it in relation to the other things I value? When is it OK to lie? How should the issue be handled around children.

It’s obvious, really. How can you shape the values of others without examining your own values first?

As we pull together the final preparations for the girls’ third birthday this weekend, it strikes me.

Can it really be three years? As I look at my little girls, I feel torn by a paradox. On one hand, I find it hard to credit that so much time has passed. Shouldn’t they still be my little babies? So many days have gone by that I won’t ever get back. This fatherhood thing is all going too fast. I want to slow it down, to have time to reflect on what’s happening.

But then again… so very, very much has happened. Life has never been so intense. I’ve been through more emotions and had more new experiences in the last three year s than in twice that time before parenthood. I’ve been challenged, and I’ve grown. Life was easy before parenthood, and while easy is nice, it gets you nowhere. Only when pushed do you get to learn who you are, as you rise to the challenges you’re facing.

So much has passed, yet time has flown so fast.