The 60 Minute Nap Time Illusion
There is a magical moment every parent waits for.
The house get quiet.
Three babies are finally asleep.
You look around, take a deep breath, and think…
“Okay. I have an hour.”
An hour sounds like forever-until you’re a parent.
Because somehow, in those sixty short minutes, I can convince myself I can:
Fold three mountains of laundry.
Empty and reload a dishwasher.
Wipe down the kitchen.
Vaccum the floors.
Shower.
Wash my hair.
Answer text messages.
Eat an actual meal while it’s still hot.
Prep dinner.
Get a workout in.
Spend one on one time with Mia,
Sit down for “just five mintes.”
And maybe…close my eye…
The math never adds up.
Instead, I spend the first ten minutes debating what deserves my attention the most.
Should I shower because I haven’t had one today?
Should I clean the playroom because it looks like a tornado made of diapers, toys and snack cups?
Should I workout because I keep telling myself “I’ll start tomorrow?”
Or should I forget all of that and spend uniterrupted time with Mia - the child who quielty wait while her little siblings need me every minute of everyday.
Every choice feels like I’m neglecting something else.
Somedays I choose the dishes.
Somedays I choose the laundry.
Somedays I choose myself and my workout.
And somedays…I choose absolutely nothing. I sit on the couch in complete silence because my body isn’t asking me to be produtive. It’s asking me to relax and rest.
Motherhood has taught me that rest isn’t laizness.
It’s survivial.
I’ve spent so much of this past year believing that every nap should be productive - that if I wasn’t crossing things of my to-do list, I was wasting precious time.
But lately, I’m realizing something.
The to-do list will still be there.
The laundry will always come back.
The dishes will reproduce.
There will always be something to clean.
The crumbs aren’t going anywhere.
But my babies won’t always nap.
Mia won’t always ask me to color with her.
One day this house will be clean, quiet, and organized.
And I have a feeling I'll miss the chaos more than I can imagine.
So if today’s nap was spent eating lunch while scrolling your phone….
Or taking a shower.
Or drinking your coffee or chai in silence.
Or cuddling your oldest child.
You didn’t waste your hour.
You used it exactly how you needed to.
And maybe that’s the most productive thing a mom can do.
Pumping for Triplets: A Love Story Between Me, My Pump, and Complete Exhaustion
When I found out I was having triplets, I worried about a lot of things.
How could we fit three cribs in one room?
How would I survive feeding three babies?
How many diapers would I go through in 24 hours?
What I didn’t appreciate was that I was about to enter into a committed, around-the-clock relationship with a breast pump.
For 16 months, my life was measured in ounces, flange sizes, pump parts, milk storage bags, and the never-ending question, “When did I pump last?”
The Early Days
When I found out I was having triplets the question of “are you going to breastfeed?” came up a lot. I was open to whatever my babies needed but knew I would at least try and pump. My babies arrived at 30 weeks, went straight to NICU, and 2 hours later I had my first pump session with 0 ounces to show for it. As a nurse, I knew this was completely normal, but was still incredibly frustrated. While other moms were breastfeeding their newborns I sat attached to a pump every 2-3 hours, and I was determined to pump more often so my body could understand we needed milk for more than just one baby. The more I pumped, the more ounces I got.
Each ounce felt like a victory.
Each pumping session felt like one small thing I could do for my babies when so much was out of my control.
The NICU quickly taught me that breastmilk wasn’t just food - it was medicine.
So I pumped.
And pumped.
And pumped some more.
The Schedule Never Ends
My goal was never to exclusively pump for my triplets. I just wanted my body to make as much as I could. For 3 months I could have supplied the babies with just my breastmilk. For Margot, I did but the boys had other plans. Throughout their stays blood would be found in their stool. IVs would be placed and fluids given. The change from my breastmilk to a hypoallergenic milk would be done. I would go dairy free and soy free with the hope they could be switched back.
Archer would, he was able to come off formula and go back to breastmilk at about 2 months old.
Crew still had other plans. He waited until he was discharged home to be transitioned to my milk.
Margot, like the queen she is, never had an issue.
Those first few months my days revolved around pumping alarms. I’d pump as soon as I woke up. I’d pump after I dropped Mia off at preschool while driving to the hospital. I’d pump overnight. Every 3 hours, there I was, attached to a pump.
Thank goodness for pumping bras and hands free pumps! I learned to multi-task.
I learned to wash pump parts faster than I ever thought possible.
I learned that if I sat down to relax, there was a very good chance I was supposed to be pumping and I would feel guilty if I didn’t.
The Numbers
At one point, I was producing enough milk to feed three babies entirely from my body.
That still amazes me.
Over my 16 month pumping journey I produced over 16,000 ounces of breastmilk.
At my peak I was averaging over 40 ounces a day.
These ounces nourished my babies, help with growth spurts and illness.
Every bag in the fridge represented time. Time spent awake while I wanted to sleep. Time spent attached to a pump, instead of just sitting on the couch. Time spent choosing persistence when quitting would have been so much easier.
The Hard Parts Nobody Talks About
Pumping can be lonely.
People see the milk but not the work behind it.
They don’t see the middle-of-the night sessions.
The clogged ducts.
The leaking shirts.
The mental load of constantly calculating ounces.
The guilt when supply drops.
The anxiety when the freezer stash shrinks.
The exhaustion of knowing your body is still feeding babies long after everyone else has gone to bed.
There were days I wanted to quit.
Days I cried.
Days I wondered if one more pumping session was worth it.
What Kept Me Going
Three tiny reasons.
Crew.
Archer.
Margot.
I always said I would try and pump for them and give what I could. Margot exclusively got breastmilk and the boys got a mix of both breastmilk and formula. Some people ask why the boys, and it was simply because their gut was already exposed to formula. So I didn’t mind giving them both, and I was not overexerting myself trying to exclusively pump for all three. I was happy with what I could do.
Every pump, every ounce was worth it.
The Day I Realized I was Done
I thought I would be excited.
Instead I felt sad.
Relieved.
Grateful.
And proud.
Pumping was such a huge part of my identity as a mom that letting it go felt strangely emotional. For 16 months, my body had been helping sustain three little lives. For me, when I was done - I was done. The end of era. I was officially out of the pregnancy and baby era and heading into the era of watching my children grow up.
No more babies.
No more pumping.
It was a bittersweet feeling that was hard to let go. I didn’t know what I would do with the time I was getting back.
To the Mom Pumping Right Now
Whether you’re pumping for one baby or three, I want you to know this:
The hours count.
The effort counts.
The middle-of-the night sessions count.
The tears count
The ounces count.
Most importantly - you count.
Your worth isn’t measured in ounces. Your babies don’t love you because of what’s in a bottle.
They love you because you are their mom.
The milk is just a bonus.
And if you’re reading this while attached to a pump, wondering if anyone understands how hard this is…
I do.
I’ve been there.
Probably while eating my ice cream treat and trying to keep three babies happy at the same time - plus a toddler.
What you see - a smile and a chai
What you don’t see - hands free pump, about to grocery shop with a toddler begging for a snack
MVP Award: Vinnie Murphy
Provider. Playmate. Professional Chaos Coordinator.
There are people who keep a household running, and then there are people who somehow keep it alive. My husband Vinnie falls firmly into the second category
He works hard. Like, really hard. Not in a loud, look-at me-way, but in the steady, dependable way that shows up in every bill paid, every long day survived, and every “I’ve got it” moment when things are piling up. He carries a lot, and he still walks through the door ready to be present for our kids.
And when I say present, I don’t mean sitting on the couch recovering from a long work day while the kids climb the walls around him. I mean fully in it.
With the babies, he has this uncanny ability to turn everyday chaos into laughter. The kind that doesn’t just make them giggle - it makes them laugh so hard they hiccup. The whole house changes when he’s in dad mode. It gets louder, messier, and somehow lighter at the same time.
Don’t Try This At Home
Then there’s Mia.
If you ask Mia about her favorite thing about her dad, she will probably saying doing “run jump with dad off the steps.” (don’t try this at home). The second thing she will tell you is he is her favorite playmate. The kind of dad who turns any open space into an obstacle course. Living room? Gym. Hallway? Racetrack. Backyard? Olympic event. She follow him around like he’s the main attraction, because honestly… to her, he is.
He meets her energy in a way that feels effortless. No hesitation. Just pure “okay, let’s go” and suddenly they’re off creating memories that will probably be retold for years.
Now important note for accuracy: Vinnie is capable of many things. Strength, stamina, full-body toddler entertainment, emotional support dad moments - you name it.
But there is one limitation.
Do not ask him for an Elsa braid or to paint nails.
That is where the system crashes.
And honestly, it’s kind of perfect. Because while Elsa braids and nail polish might not be his skill set, running, jumping, laughing and loving our kids absolutely is.
He Shows Up When it Matters Most
At the end of the day, that’s what matters most. Not perfection. Not Pinterest moments. Just a dad who shows up, makes the kids laugh until they hiccup, and turns ordinary days into memories they’ll carry forever.
Being a dad of four isn’t exactly a relaxing hobby. There are diapers, tantrums, endless snacks, sleepless nights, and enough laundry to outfit a small village. Yet he shows up every single day.
He works hard for our family.
He creates memories without even realizing it.
He carries sleepy babies to bed, helps Mia practice new things even in the chaotic moments.
This Father’s Day, I’m thankful for the little things and the big things. The sacrifices nobody sees. The long workdays. The bedtime cuddles. The silly games. The countless memories being made right in the middle of our wonderfully messy life.
Our family wouldn’t be the same without him.
Simple Father’s Day Ideas (Vinnie Approved)
Let dad sleep in!
Breakfast with dad at home: nothing fancy but it better be filled with protein!
Backyard or living room obstacle course: run, jump, roll and bonus - tire everyone out!
Family movie + snack night: popcorn, blankets and something kid friendly. Let him pick the movie and kids can pick the snacks.
Easy Gift Ideas
A long, kid free gym session
His favorite coffee “Dad coupon book” (Mia can decorate it")
One “no responsibilities for 30 minutes”
Handprint or footprint keepsake: babies + paint + paper = chaos BUT also something he’ll never throw away. You can turn it into “Hands Down the Best Day”
A “Why We Love Dad” page from Mia: have her draw pictures and dictate funny things about him (He wants a new pillow for fathers day is my current favorite)
A favorite snacks basket with a funny “Dad Survival Kit” label
This year Father’s Day looked a little different - there was no sleep to be had the night before and Vinnie had to work the morning. However, we still made it special when he came home! We spent part of the day with just Mia, taking her to see Toy Story 5 and soaking up some one-on-one time with our first baby. Watching her laugh, talk about the movie afterward, and sit on dad’s shoulders reminded us how quickly these years are flying by.
Then we came home to our beautiful chaos waiting for us - triplets, toy, and tantrums! We kept it simple and ordered from dad’s favorite restaurant and then after the triplets were asleep played Guess Who - Bluey version. There were no grand plans or extravagant gifts. Just time together.
The older I get, the more I realize that these ordinary moments are the ones we’ll remember. Years from now, I won’t remember what we ate or that we only had half the day to celebrate. What I will remember is laughing with Mia, eating dinner with Archer covered in pasta sauce, and ending the day surrounded by family.
And that’s what Father’s Day is all about.
Happy Father’s Day Vinnie. Thank you for showing up, loving us well, and making this crazy, beautiful life so much fun.
“ I loved him first. Now they do too - and somehow. I love him even more for it.”
How We’re Surviving Summer With Triplets (and a Toddler)
There’s something about summer with little kids that feels magical…and completely chaotic at the same time. Add triplets plus a big sister into the mix, and suddenly even stepping outside feels like a full production.
But after a lot of trial and error, I’ve realized something important: summer survival isn’t about doing everything. It’s about finding simple things that keep everyone happy for at least 20 minutes while you drink iced coffee (or chai - my fave) before it melts.
Here’s what’s helping us survive summer with triplets this year.
The Backyard Is Basically Our Summer Vacation
I used to think we needed elaborate plans every day to make summer “special.” Turns out? The kids are happiest with water, sacks and freedom to roam.
The water table = MVP
Our water table has become the center of our universe.
The Triplets could spend all morning splashing cups, pouring water everywhere except where it’s supposed to go, fighting over the same toy and somehow soaking themselves head to toe in under three minutes.
And honestly? It’s worth it.
A water table is one of the few activities where:
All three babies can play at once
They burn energy
They say cool
I can sit nearby for a second and breathe
Pro tip: throw in random kitchen items. Sponges, measuring cups, spoons, even a turkey baster! Suddenly it’s “sensory play" instead of chaos.
Well...less chaos
Blow Up Pool = Instant Happiness
While the triplets dominate the water table, our toddler gets her own little setup: a blow up pool.
Nothing fancy! Just one that can have enough water to splash, toss toys around, and pretend she’s at a luxury resort asking for snacks every four minutes.
Something I overthink activities for her because she’s older, but I’ve learned she mostly wants:
Attention
Independence
Popsicles
And to feel like she has her own special thing
The blow up pool has been perfect for that.
Bonus: everyone naps better after backyard water play
We’re Attempting the Beach this Summer
Keyword: attempting
Taking triplets plus a toddler to the beach honestly sounds like an Olympic event, but we’re doing it anyway because I refuse to let having multiples stop us from making memories.
Will it be relaxing? Absolutely not.
Will someone cry because sand touched their foot wrong? Definitely and it will probably be Crew.
But I know years from now I won’t remember the stress of packing five million snacks. I’ll remember sandy baby feed, sunscreen-covered cheeks, and my daughter running toward the waves like it’s the best day of her life.
Current beach survival plans:
Arrive EARLY
Keep expectation low
Bring way too many snacks
Accept that someone will need a full outfit change immediately
Leave before everyone completely melts down
That last one is key.
Sometimes surviving summer is just keeping everyone fed and making one memory at a time.
The Zoo: Controlled Chaos
The zoo feels like one of the few outings where everyone is genuinely enjoys themselves.
The toddler gets excited about every animal like it’s a celebrity sighting, while the triplets are happy just people-watching from the stroller with snacks in hand.
The best part about zoo days is there’s zero pressure to “do it all.”
Sometimes we only see half the zoo before someone needs a bottle, a diaper change, or emergency pretzel. And that’s okay.
Summer with small kids has taught me that successful outings aren’t about perfection - they’re about getting out the door at all.
Aquarium Days Are A Hidden Gem
If you have babies or toddler, aquariums are elite summer parenting.
Dark rooms.
Air conditioning.
Mesmerizing fish.
Contained walking areas
It’s basically a sensory dream for overstimulated moms and kids alike.
The triplets love staring at the glowing tanks, and my toddler acts like she personally discovered every fish in the building.
Also: aquarium days are perfect for those brutally hot summer afternoons when nobody can survive outside anymore.
What Summer Actually Looks Like Right Now
If I’m honest, most days don’t look Pinterest-perfect.
They look like:
Wet diapers pilled near the back door
Towels everywhere
Sunscreen in everyone’s eyes
One baby eating sand
Another refusing naps (Archer)
My toddler asking for a snack while already holding a snack
But they also look like:
Belly laughs at the water table
Tiny swimsuits hanging to dry
Sticky popsicle smiles
Sleepy babies after long summer days
Memories I know I’ll miss someday.
And honestly? That feels like enough to me.
To the Moms in the Thick of It
If you’re surviving summer with babies, toddlers, twins, triplets, or just tiny humans in general - you’re doing better than you think.
You don’t need extraveg
spell check
ant plans.
You don’t need perfect outings.
You don’t need aesthtic matching towels.
Sometimes surviving summer is just keeping everyone fed resonably cool, and making one good memory at a time.
And that counts.
How I became a mom to triplets
People ask me all the time, “How do you do it”? And honestly, some days I’m still figuring that part out myself.
However, before the schedules, the bottles, the NICU days, and the chaos of raising triplets…there was heartbreak first.
The part of My Story I Don’t Always Share
After having my daughter, I experienced two losses - a boy and a girl.
Getting pregnant was never the hard part for me, but sustaining it was. My losses happened at 10 and 13 weeks, and after each one, I started to carry this quiet fear into every appointment. The excitement of pregnancy became mixed with anxiety, waiting and wondering if things would go wrong.
We took a break, then when we decided to try one more time, I told Vinnie that this was it. I couldn’t go through this again. With the help of a fertility doctor we created a plan. This was it. Emotionally, I couldn’t go through another loss - so either we were having another baby or I was closing this chapter completely.
The Ultrasound That Changed Everything
Walking into that ultrasound appointment, I was nervous, and apart of me new it was more than one. Of course if you asked my Tara and Ashley, I always thought that. THIS time, it was different.
I remember lying there watching the screen while the ultrasound tech got quiet.
Then she said words I’ll never forget:
“I’ll be right back.”
Immediately my stomach dropped, those words meant heartbreak before.
A second ultrasound tech walked into the room, looked at the screen and then laughed.
“You’re right,” she said. “There’s three in there.”
Three babies.
THREE BABIES.
Did I mention I was alone? Vinnie was at work and had no idea the news I just got. Honestly, I don’t even know if shock is a big enough word for what I felt in that moment.
From One Baby…To Three
What’s wild is that this pregnancy was supposed to be my last attempt. Either we would be a family of 3 or 4, not 6! Although when I meet Vinnie I did tell him I always wanted four kids, guess God was just looking out for me.
Two boys and one girl.
I didn’t feel capable at the time, I didn’t know how we would do it, but God said:
“She can handle it.”
27 weeks at my Sprinkle
Pregnancy with Triplets was a Marathon
Triplet pregnancy is not for the weak
I worked as a nurse up until 26 weeks, which to be honest was less than I thought - I was hoping to work up until I delivered. However, I got to a point where I couldn’t walk because the pubic symphysis pain I was experiencing was so intense. I could’t stand longer than two minutes and was out of breath after two steps! I got to a point where I felt it wasn’t fair to my coworkers or my patients to be working anymore - the preterm contractions didn’t help either.
Everything hurt.
Walking hurt. Rolling over hurt. Sleeping didn’t exist.
Every week felt important because with triplets, every extra day matter.
My goal became simple: make it to 30 weeks.
I Did It
And somehow…I made it.
Exactly 30 weeks.
Our two boys and one girl entered the world healthy, strong, and ready to fight.
Of course, with premature triplets came the NICU journey.
People see the cute matching outfits and chaos now, but there’s another side to becoming a triplet mom - leaving the hospital without your babies. The babies you just carried for 30 weeks, now had a new home and it wasn’t with me.
The NICU became our entire world for weeks, months.
We learned monitors, feeding schedules, oxygen levels, and how to parent through incubator walls.
Then slowly, one by one, our babies came home.
Margot came home after 74 days, our smallest but strongest girl
Crew came home after 84 days, our first boy into the world
Archer came home after 85 days, our second boy who knew third was best
Every homecoming felt surreal.
Each time another baby walked through our front door, our family became more complete.
What this Journey Taught Me
Becoming a mom to triplets started with grief, fear uncertainty and surrender.
It taught me that motherhood doesn’t always look how we imagined.
Sometimes it looks like loss then fertility mediations.
Sometimes it looks like NICU life.
Sometimes it looks like surviving hour by hour.
But sometimes the hardest roads lead to the most beautiful outcomes. Now our home is loud, messy, chaotic, exhausting, and full beyond belief.
And somehow, after all the fear of losing pregnancies, I became the mom of three babies at once and we became a family of six.
Life has a funny way of changing everything in a single ultrasound appointment.
