"Alex, take the remote from Oliver, please!"

"Zoe, you can't draw on the walls!"

You and Simon were running around the large first-floor area of your house like a pair of sprinters on a mission, trying to get all the kids ready for a shopping trip without making it last more than two hours. Although, judging by the way your youngest triplets were trying to put the camera's wire in their mouths, it was an impossible task.

Since the day you gave birth to your third set of triplets, your family has become popular in the town where you live. First, a newspaper wrote about your consistent multiple pregnancies, and then a TV station contacted you to film your daily life as a family with nine children or three sets of triplets.

People love to watch chaos and cute babies. You had both of those things.

So, while your older kids were standing by the entrance, sighing tiredly, wanting to finally go shopping, Simon grabbed the 18-month-olds, pulling their attention away from the camera crew, and sat them on his lap to put their shoes on. At the same time, you led your middle kids by their hands, while the youngest, Zoe, wobbled behind you, babbling "mama."

After about a dozen grunts of displeasure, a couple of sighs, and a gallon of sweat, the door was opened, and one large battalion of Riley's children poured out onto the driveway in the direction of the minivan.

You looked at your husband with gratitude once again as he gently stroked your lower back. You were a team. And without love and teamwork, you wouldn't be able to make this work.