Big Families

On any given day, in any public situation, I am barraged with comments. Store clerks, patrons, people in parking lots, they all feel obliged to ask me "are they ALL YOURS?" I usually reply with a simple smile and a 'yes'. When caught off guard and in a bad mood, sometimes my sardonic answer is 'yes, but they all have different fathers.' Sometimes, it's not a question,it's a comment. "You have your hands full!" (Really? I hadn't noticed, I'd speak to you if my car keys weren't in my mouth) "God BLESS you! (As if to say He already hasn't with 6 healthy children!) or my all time favorite -"Are you done?" (With what? My lunch?) If I asked a complete stranger if they were on contraceptives, it would be considered rude and an invasion of their privacy. Yet many people feel entitled to ask me intimate questions about my family planning. I don't judge these people, but they feel compelled to tell me "why" they couldn't do it [have six children] Honestly, I did not ask to hear their stories, but they tell me about their tubal ligations and vasectomies anyway. "We're done!! They scoff. "There's no way!" I am convinced that it is to alleviate their own guilt. I don't judge anyone on their family size (though I admit I am partial to those who let God determine the number of offspring) I have known people who cannot conceive and are judged harshly for "only having one" but they long for a large family. I have known others who reject the gift of a child through the act of abortion. The point is, family planning is a deeply intimate spiritual practice for me. So if you see me in the grocery store with my caravan of kiddos, just smile and say hello - let's leave it at that.
Since this entry has a bit of an acidic flavor - I will add something I wrote 5 years ago when pregnant with my fourth - it was cathartic. I never said it was easy to accept each child, but grace is infinite.



WHAT MY CHILDREN HAVE LEARNED FROM HAVING A LARGE FAMILY:

To repair things, not replace them.



To say, "you're welcome" as much as they say "thank you"



That ALL breakfast cereal comes in a bag anyway.



That with a little stain remover, it can be as good as new.



That they call the carpenter, coach, and contractor by the same name; Daddy



They call the tutor, the tailor and the treasurer by the same name; Mommy



That Easter and Christmas are about Christ, not candy.



That Love is an action, not an emotion.



That people are much more important than possessions.



That star gazing and nature walks are more memorable than movies and arcade games.



That imagination costs nothing, but is priceless.



That sharing is not an option, but necessary.



That unless it's your birthday, the clothes are not brand new.



That cable is a luxury, not a staple.



That the TV has an "off" button.



THE THINGS I'VE LEARNED:



I'd rather have a dent in my minivan, than in my chastity.



My home is a reflection of my heart, not my bank account



God is never impressed by a financial portfolio.



Trials are temporary, souls are eternal



Grace is more powerful than the bottom line



People who criticize family size are often poor in virtue.



Money is a tool - our relationship with it is what shapes who we are.



I'd rather be showered with a dandelion bouquet than roses from a suitor.



The world is an exciting place through the eyes of each child.



Today may be the day that is etched in their memories forever.



"Please" and "thank you" are not reserved for company.



Saying "I'm sorry" shows a humility that cannot be taught.



Children do not judge beauty with worldly eyes.



Sleep is more precious than entertainment.



My womb is a gift from God



Saying "yes" to life could change the world.

Lonely

Last week I had a bit of a stomach virus that really wiped me. I was not feeling well at all and for some reason, I was wiped emotionally too. Trinity complained of a bellyache the same day so I thought she may have the same illness. She ate and played quite contentedly with Evie, so she wasn’t really sick. Later in the morning I went into the girls’ room to check on them and the door was shut tight and they gave me a look that said “why are you interrupting?” They were deep in imaginative play and I had disturbed their reverie. I felt badly about this, but I needed to get Trinity ready for school. My afternoon would be less work with one less child and I desperately needed the break.
“But I just want to play with Evie, Mum,” was Trinity’s plight.

The daily grind has been emotionally excruciating for me as of late. I spend days upon days not leaving the house, with no outside contact. I wait for 5:30 like a pre-millenialist waits for the second coming; with both fear and elation. I make desperate attempts at 4:30 to clean up the entire day’s mess and meals whilst trying to supervise homework and deal with the witching hour’s bickering. When he walks in that door it is both my judgment and salvation. Great foreplay, no?

Unable to pinpoint my malaise, I’ve been aimless, unmotivated. I can’t blame the weather – September has been gorgeous here in the ‘Burgh. Granted, I try to reduce my driving as much as possible with a 17 mpg bus, but is it worth my disposition to save a few bucks? I haven’t been to the gym in 2 weeks because either I or someone else has been sick.

Never one to deny a “mental health day”, the girls, I decided, needed time together. Evie had not complained once in three weeks about Trin going to school, and Trin had not once complained that she didn’t want to go. These two little ones often fight and love really hard being only 15 months apart. But it was Evie that convinced me that they needed each other. When I looked at Trinity with a “but you have school today” look, Evie objected on her own behalf. In her little, eloquent and oh-so-beyond-her-years vernacular, she said what was crying on my heart: “Mom? (pause) I just don’t want to be alone.” I know Evie, nobody does.