You know you have a big family when...

…your teenager sees baby doll feet poking out from underneath a pillow and momentarily panics that there has been a serious mishap with a baby.  Some baby.  Not sure whose baby, but somebody's baby.  Because there have in the past always been lots of babies around here.

* * *

Poor kid.  He came upstairs half laughing, half crying in relief that he did not, in fact, stumble upon the scene of a homicide.

Makes me wonder what his reaction was when his last sister was born.  I imagine something like: "Oh look, another baby.  Pass the pizza, please."

* * *

You know have a big family when...

…your daughter comes downstairs sleepy-headed, and the first words out of her mouth are: "Did my lemonade survive the night?"

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you're primary visceral reaction to a child breaking a bone is annoyance.

Closely related to: You know you have a big family when another parent expresses far more compassion and concern for said child than ever occurred to you.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you are flooded with relief and gratitude by the realization that you no longer have to open a car door or fasten a seatbelt for anyone -- besides yourself.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...living room forts make you bone-crushingly tired.  When the sight of blankets and chairs set up in crazy patterns all over the house is no longer cute nor a sign of the most amazingly creative and intelligent children ever.  When living room forts make you irrationally, inexplicably want to weep.

That's when you know.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you end up with the song Everything Is Broken, by Bob Dylan, running on an endless loop through your head when you (a) need to find something, (b) need to put something away, or (c) simply walk through your house.

It's either the big family thing or your house is actually a FEMA zone.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...no one ever invites you over for dinner.

* * *

Except someone did! And they didn't even know we would only bring two of our kids!

We had dinner with some friends this past Friday night, sans three of our kids who had other things going on. It was so enjoyable, and it made us wonder why we never do that anymore, like we used to, when we only had two-- Oh. Never mind. We get it.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you are at a cafe all by yourself, and you grab a stack of napkins a foot high to use while you sip your tea and eat your red velvet cupcake.

* * *

You know you are a blogger with a big family when...

...you load five kids, two dogs, the mother in law, two skateboards, one scooter, one tricycle, one soccer ball and a bag of snacks into the car on a chilly wind-swept day to go to the park, where you negotiate rambunctious children, under-exercised dogs who keep wrapping their leashes around your legs and little ones who keep going momentarily missing, where you respond to "Look Mommy!" 13 times in a row in the space of 60 seconds, where you hold your breath while watching newly minted skateboarders try out their new skilz, where you brave the wind and the threatening rain to infuse cabin-feverish kids with fresh air, where you deftly handle the one kid who wants to call a taxi to take him home because it's too cold, where you carry cast away sweaters and hats and wheeled-conveyances, and where, when it's finally time to leave, you load everyone and everything back in the car EXCEPT the four year old and her tricycle because she stubbornly remains smack in the middle of the great big lawn refusing to budge while you close up the car and actually begin to drive away rather than let her call the shots -- which works and she finally comes on her own -- and where your mother-in-law suggests that you should write a blog post about the whole experience, to which you respond:

"But this is such an ordinary outing; how would I make it interesting?"

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...the cashier who rings up your weekly grocery haul asks you if you are having a great big party.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...paper plates are one of your guilty pleasures.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you hear the following clip in your head multiple times a day.

* * *

And can I just speak to the other mothers of large families out there for a moment? All I hear is how wonderful big families are, how we are blessed with our many children, how fulfilling it is to raise them and see them grow in love and joy and hope and blah, blah, blah.

I love my kids as much as the next mom, but I'd love a reality check once in awhile. All that happy family stuff makes me feel like the only one out there ready to pull out her hair, rip off her ears, and run for the hills. I love them, but man, there are so many of them, and sometimes it feels like they're all against me.

So if you have a large brood, and you feel -- every now and then -- like trading it all in for a Mini Cooper, a collection of CD's, a GPS navigator and a cooler full of sourdough bread and fresh fruit, let me know I'm not alone.

* * *

Thankfully, today, I get a bit of a reprieve. Today, I heard that Grinchy clip on the way to dropping three of the kiddos off at their Trackers outdoor education class. The youngest is currently terrorizing her fellow preschoolers and hopefully not repeating the word "penis" too many times; it seems to be her new favorite word, which her siblings happily encouraged and gleefully imagined her using at school this week.

I am left with one adorable little 5 year old, who is making a magnet and learning about St. Francis on his Feast Day. We are taking our dog to get blessed at our parish at 1pm.

Large families are, indeed, wonderful. They are wonderful, difficult, inspiring, frustrating, exhausting, exhilarating, humbling, fun, busy, hungry, maddening, joyful, surprising, hilarious, and awesome.

So I guess we're not so different from families of any size. Except for the noise.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...your four year-old, upon seeing a teacher leading a class of 12 kids down the street, remarks: "Wow! He has a bigger family even than us!"

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...it is too common of an occurrence for you to discover, upon your family's arrival somewhere, that someone has neglected to wear shoes.

Nothing makes a mama feel less in control or more ridiculous than hauling around a barefoot kid in environs where shoes are tacitly required. And by ridiculous, I really mean Beverly Hillbillies-ish.

Sometimes, I think my children's sole mission in life is to make me face my ineptitude.

* * *

How Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth...

...are my children.

And curse you, Will Shakes, for penning words that have proven only too true under my roof.

If she must teem,
Create her child of spleen, that it may live
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her!
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!

King Lear Act 1, scene 4, 281–289

To make matters worse, I have teemed five times, so that five serpents' teeth can cut me to the quick. What have I done to deserve the cadent tears and the wrinkled brow? I am no less innocent than Cordelia herself, and yet I endure the eye-rolling, the puffs of disgust and the scorn in spades. What have I done to deserve this?

Oh, THAT'S right: I decided to take the kids somewhere fun today. No wonder my name is anathema to them.

We were having an uneventful day around here. Three World Cup Games had already been viewed by 1:00 pm. Two kids were playing outside, a few were hanging around inside. I got an email from a friend that a group of moms and kids was meeting at a local park around 1:30. I had been doing work and chores all morning, so I figured it would be good to get everyone out of the house for awhile.

Note to parents: Never interupt a perfectly boring day with the suggestion that you do something fun with your family. When I made that mistake, the complaining started. And the bickering and the fighting and the back-stabbing.

I want to go to the beach instead. Who's going to be there? Do we HAVE to bring Tallulah? Stop being stupid, [Insert Sibling Name Here]. HE PUNCHED ME. I don't want to wear shoes! Can't we go somewhere else? I-don-wanna-go-pee-first-why-do-you-always-make-me-do-that-I-don-wanna. I'm staying here. SHOT GUN! NO I CALLED SHOT GUN! YOU HAD IT LAST TIME! IT'S MY TURN! HE ALWAYS GETS SHOT GUN. MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! SHUT UP YOU STUPID IDIOT. Mom, make her stop or I am going to punch her. Can we bring [insert 20 different toys or 10 friends that live 30 minutes away or a catered meal]? WHY NOT? You are SO mean.

If that weren't unpleasant enough, the stalling made it positively unbearable. How long, exactly, does it take to put on a pair of shoes? And why do you need to change clothes three times at the last minute, only to end up wearing what you started with in the first place? And how hard is it to clear the table of your three lunch dishes and why am I asking you to do it 5+ times before it gets done?

And then there was the car ride. Nearly dead from the effort to get them in the car in the first place, I was then treated to a 10-minute trip during which they managed to insult each other, make each other cry, scream, complain bitterly that I don't care about them, and freak out over various minor offenses.

Why, oh why are they so downright unpleasant?

Must be because I am ineffective as a parent. Sure, that's it. If I were more consistent, or more organized, or more competent, they'd all hop to and do my bidding, right? Well, then they're as screwed as I am.

Thomas Hobbes had it almost right: Children are nasty, brutish and short. Apparently, I need to establish a social contract with my own kids.

* * *

We went to the park. They had fun. I was exhausted. I am not sure it was worth it.

* * *

Part of the adventure of our 5 hour road trip on Sunday included having to stop in a dinky little gold rush town on our return trip to change a tire. Imagine that little tableaux for a moment. Everyone's tired and hopped up on birthday cake and soda. Everyone knows we will be cooped up together in a car for at least 2.5 hours. And we realize that that rushing sound we are hearing is our rear passenger tire, gushing air out of a hole in the valve stem. So, we pulled over and found an empty lot where Rick could put the spare on while the kids could occupy themselves without being in danger of (a) getting hit by a car or (b) knocking the car off of the jack.

It only took about 30 minutes. It was the best 30 minutes of watching my kids that I've experienced in quite a while. They played soccer: Sam, Elizabeth and Tallulah against Vincenzo and Lola. They were downright gracious and kind to each other. They played hard, with good sportsmanship. The olders passed the ball to the littles, and went a touch easier on them too. Sam was the very picture of the Perfect Oldest Brother. They encouraged each other, and laughed at their own missteps. It was one of those moments when having a big family really is about always having a crowd to play with and always having a tribe to watch your back. I just sat back and watched them play, honored to witness the kind of freedom and happiness that adults can't remember experiencing.

That's what I want for my kids. Watching them that evening, many miles from home, I saw that they do and will have each other for their entire lives and that when push comes to shove, they'll take care of each other. They really do love each other, despite their serpentine days. I'm going to hold on to that and pray that sometime before Sam graduates from high school, I get to see another 30 minutes like the ones we spent in the setting summer sun, in a parking lot far, far away, changing a tire and having a happy family.

* * *

Today, they were pure evil to me and to each other.

And so goes the yin and yang of family life.

* * *

No Wonder My Stomach Feels Odd

Tonight, I'd like to share a bit of funny from my brother.

Click that link. Come back. Leave a comment.

Now, let's see how well you all follow instructions.

*smiley face*

And in a random edition of You Know You Have A Big Family When...

you make 14 hot dogs baked in pizza dough for lunch,

and people are still hungry when they're gone.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...you split the family into two cars for the ride home and both vehicles qualify for the car pool lane.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...the "family pass" to the zoo only covers half of you.

* * *

We had a great time at the zoo yesterday. We had some strict rules: we eat the food we bring with us...we go on ONE ride only...we play nicely with each other. The first two rules were based on my desire to have enough money to also buy groceries this week and the third was based on my desire to avoid coming home bald. I'm happy to report success on both fronts.

A couple of highlights:

Tallulah, riding her "baby roller coaster," which was actually just little tiny cars driving in a tame circle. She thought she wanted to go on this ride, but spent the entire time covering her face and wailing "I TOO TIRED...I TOO TIRED!" The operator stopped the ride half way through and pulled her off.

Hearing Tallulah in front of the chimpanzees: "They my family!" She's been taking her sibling's teasing to heart. She actually thinks they are being sweet to her!

Watching my boys watch me ride on the tiger rollercoaster with Lola. They were sure I was going to barf, or weep, or fall apart somehow. I went up in their esteem because I handled it just fine. Either that, or I disappointed them, or maybe a little bit of both.

The Reptile House. Just plain awesome. Great frogs, turtles, lizards.

Get thee to a zoo. You'll thank me.

* * *

You know you have a big family when...

...one of your kids asks for ear plugs for Christmas.