As some of you know, I was never the little girl that dreamed about having kids. I wanted to be a cowgirl, Calamity Jane or Anne Oakley. I wanted to raise horses and monkeys rather than children. I was the son my dad never had. I was tougher than most of the boys growing up and my dad was afraid that I would be a woman's lib leader. I overheard him telling my mom that if she didn't get me "in the kitchen", no man would want someone that was better than him in everything.
When I got married as a 19 year old girl, for the first time, I had a desire to be a mom. However, I wanted to have 4 boys that would all be red headed. Yes. I had great plans...
In reality, I have 10, 9, 8, 5 and 3 year old children. 2 of which were born to me and 3 that God gave me through marriage. We have a very busy and a very full house at times. We do not have a huge house but it is enough for us. Saturday night and Sunday's are always a circus at the house. Saturday night is in preparation for church on Sunday. Almost every Saturday night our night sounds a little bit like this...
"Everyone get your pjs and panties and underwear, it's time for baths" (Since we have 5 kids, they all have a number and a color so we can keep up with who's is who's, and where it goes) #4 says, "Do I HAVE to take a baaaath? I didn't even sweat today and I took a bath yesterday." To which I respond (every time), "Yes, you must have a bath. You need a bath every day, even if you don't sweat if it's just to wash germs off your body. Besides, you sweat very easily so I believe it's safe to say, you definitely require a bath tonight." The last statement was a huge mistake. "Feel my hair. It's not even wet. I really don't need a bath. I promise." In my head I'm thinking... Did I ASK your opinion? No. I said take a bath but out of my mouth I say, "#4, you have to take a bath. You may take it with a smile or with a frown but you will be getting into the tub first so you can get it out of the way."
No sooner than this conversation ends, #5 comes to inform me she will NOT be taking a bath. Her favorite sentence is "I don't want to." "What did I say? I don't care if you want to. You go get into the tub." "I DONT WANT TO!", she wails. My husband will try to convince them to take a bath. I, on the other hand, will tell them to do it immediately or be punished and then they will still have to do it. I can hear him in there trying to soothe her and talk her into the tub. Either she got into the tub of her own will or was lifted over the edge due to her inability to bend her knees at this present moment. She's now crying and standing in the tub determined she will NOT be bathed. I round the corner and see her standing there with tears streaming down her face. I give her a look that says I mean business and tell my husband that I will take care of it. He leaves and I pick up the rag, ignoring her insistence and tell her she only has the option to sit down and take a bath. #4 and 5 are still young enough that they still take their baths together. It's helpful for me as well. Most of the time, I will talk to them, ask them about their week or tell them stories. Depending on the time, I may get right down to scrubbing. In this instance, I am wetting hair and scrubbing "clean" bodies as fast as I can. As I am bathing #4 and 5, #2 ALWAYS comes and finds me with a look that her dog just died, and says the same thing. "I can't find my pjs." "Did you look in your drawers?", I reply while counting to a hundred in my head. "Yes. I looked in my top drawer." I let the air out slowly and ask, "Did you try looking in ALL your drawers?" She smiles at me and turns around to find the mysterious pjs that continually crawl out of her drawers every weekend and hide just long enough for her to tell me she cannot find them. As I'm finishing up #4 and 5, #2 again makes her appearance. There are no pjs in her hands OR panties... "I cannot find anything in my drawers." I have now moved up to counting to a thousand. I'm telling myself in between numbers to not lose my cool. I walk her through the correct way to search her magic drawers that eat her clothes every weekend. We go into the bedroom and there are random clothes and things in these magic drawers. Apparently, the toys and clothes are fighting when we leave the room and they have had some of each cross enemy lines and have been captured because some are in the closet and some in the drawers. The very FIRST place I look, I find pjs (several) and enough panties to clothe the Cabarrus county Jr cheer squads. Before I could cross the threshold of her room to go back towards the bathroom, #1 comes up to me. "We are taking baths???? Do I have to take a bath?" He says "I" like he is a king on the throne and he couldn't possibly come to the commoners domain to wash his royal self. "Yes sir you do. You also get to wash your face, put on moisturizer and brush your teeth. Isn't that awesome?" He looks at me with a smirk on his face and turns back towards his room in defeat. #3 has yet to make an appearance because it is in her tactical plan for me to be so busy that I do not realize she has not yet bathed. She's the only one of the 5 that doesn't mind a bath, most of the time. However, #3 is the mom of the group. She wants to instruct everyone else about how to bathe and when it's their turn. I can hear her in the little ones room saying, "Where's your brush? Your hair looks like rats have lived there. You didn't clean your room either. You better do that before mom comes in here." She is our little mother. Bossy but a little mother.
"#2! Go hop in the shower." What seems like a week later, I hear the water still running and I go into the bathroom to see if she has fallen and knocked the sense out of her head as for the explanation of why she would still have the water running for that length of time. "Whatcha doing?" She responds, "I'm brushing my hair while there is conditioner on it and I cannot get all the tangles out." Have you washed your body? "Not yet." I have now counted to 300,479. "#2, if it is going to take you that long to comb through your hair, please do everything else first, shut off the water, comb through your hair and THEN turn the water back on and rinse. #1 or 3 hasn't gotten to take a bath/shower yet.
I then start trolling the hallway handing out vitamins and instructions to finish up our evening. I think to myself, who's in the shower now. I walk into the bathroom and find #2 STILL in the bathroom soaking wet. What in blue blazes could she be doing? "Um.... #2, why are you still in the bathroom? We have 5 kids to get in and out and you are still in. It took me less time to bathe your sisters than it is taking you." I hear a scramble around the corner of the bathroom, "oh I'm done." I realize I'm holding my breath and I let it out. "Good! So, you took a shower, washed your face and brushed your teeth?" "I didn't wash my face or brush my teeth." Heavenly Father up above, PLEASE help these children to live to see their next birthday. At this point my speech is slow and deliberate. "Why did you not wash your face and brush your teeth?" "You didn't tell me to." 536,284... 536,285... "Every time you take a bath or shower here, do you wash your face and brush your teeth as well?" She's smiling at this point and I am not. "Yes." "So, why would I have to tell you in order for you to do it? You know it must be done." She then goes into the bathroom to finish up. #1 and 3 believe they have gotten through the day with no bath. They have BOTH jumped into bed of their own volition and are saying their prayers like spiritual warriors. If I listened closely, they are probably beseeching Jesus to intercede for them with me and make me tell them no baths for the day.
At this point of the night, #2, 4 and 5 must call their mother. I never know when this may be going down but I hear ruckus and I have already told #4 and 5 to get into bed and wait for us to tuck them in. Get them all into bed is like herding chickens. By the time you have gotten one in the pin, the other 4 have gotten loose. I'm barking orders while they are talking to their mom! I know I sounded like a drill sergeant and she probably thinks I'm killing her kids. While I'm kicking myself for not checking what was really going on before I barge into the room and assuming they are disobeying, I'm now locating my little prayer warriors. "#3, go hop into the shower. Take a quick shower but do it correctly." #3 gets into the shower but must sing what she's doing, I mean everything. #2, 4, and 5 are done talking to their mom and I am trying to tidy up from the hurricane Hancock that blows in every day. They have been told they can read a book until their dad and I come in the finish tucking them in but they must not leave their beds. I hear footsteps down the hallway. They aren't man footsteps they are the steps of a disobedient child that will get no birthday presents next year. "What are we going to do tomorrow?"
A little bit about me, there's only so long I can refrain from being sarcastic and then My head explodes. I can only count but SO high! This child has escaped a huge 6' tall man, 4 other children who are warning her as she is passing their bedrooms and she lands in the kitchen like she hasn't a care in the world. I pause in disbelief at the sight before my eyes. I'm sure my eyes have flames bursting out of them and when I talk little bursts of smoke come out through my teeth I am trying to un-clench. "Do you have an emergency? Is some thing deathly wrong with you? Did I speak English when I gave you instructions to look at a book until I came back to your room to tuck you in?" The disobedient offender has taken off down the hall with a gallop like I'm after her with a paddle before I can finish my rhetorical questions.
#3 has finished her shower and is singing her way into her bedroom. #1 is faking sleep after his ultra spiritual prayer life had to come to a halt. "#1, go get in the shower really quickly. It's past bedtime and church is tomorrow." THIRTY seconds later he is emerging from the bathroom claiming he is clean. Smell me. I'm clean. I am just really fast." Even if he just jumped in and counted to 5, I just want them all in bed. I walk into the bathroom and look around. Apparently, a tiny drone with miniature bombs big enough to destroy a very small space without disrupting anyone in the next room. There is toothpaste on the sink, UNDER the mirror, on every conceivable item on the surface of the sink, on the floor and even on the shower curtain. There is a mound of towels that looked like they are trying to hide a body with in the middle of the room along with 5 sets of clothes. Apparently, there was temporary paralysis to everyone that entered the bathroom and until they left, they wouldn't regain use of their extremities. There is rags and lufa's piled in the tub or dripping off the side of the tub. My foot squishes as I step to a "safe zone", otherwise called the rug. The toilet seat is up and must have been on fire. Why else would it be wet on every square inch? There is toilet paper in little bitty pieces on the floor that is now soaking wet. Half a roll is in the trash can and the piece that was hanging down has now been taken captive by the dog and there is a trail, she doesn't realize I can follow, and she is playing in the middle of it. "What in the world?" I say in utter disbelief and just loud enough for the refugees to hear. The movement and whispering I heard before that moment stopped immediately. "Oh!" #1 says like the light bulb just went off. "Hey mom, Um, I forgot my,,, uh." He looks into the bathroom and what he missed earlier. I'm just assuming he was struck with blindness and temporary paralysis moments before and the veil has been miraculous lifted from his eyes. He sheepishly and quickly grabs his things and I summon the remainder of the refugees to do clean up on this battle zone.
Finally, everyone is in their beds. Prayers, snuggles and bear hugs have been given, in some cases multiple times. We sit on the couch and hear that dreaded sound that every parent knows so well, footsteps down the hallway, AGAIN, but that story is for another time!!
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
WHAT DID I ASK YOU TO DO?
This weekend we celebrated my son's 10th birthday! I cannot believe I have a kid in double digits! I picked up one of his friends that he had at his school in Durham, we had the girls and my mom and her husband as well. We had a total of 6 kids, 4 adults and our near perfect "baby", Bitsy. The house was full. There were people everywhere. My mom and her husband slept at our house instead taking the of a comfort a kid free room and a bed that felt like a cloud that his parents offered and piled in with us. Bless them! My daughter even talked my mom into letting her share her twin bed while her husband slept on the pop up trundle beside them.
The next morning we decided we would make the kids pancakes and let them eat so we could have some adult conversation and could eat in peace. The children ate 2-4 pancakes a piece and were released to go outside while we got our meal finished and table set. My mom and I play music while we cook. She had been wanting me to hear a song that she said reminded her of my grandpa that passed away before she was remarried. She started the song and the first couple notes were played and a child emerges in front of me with the most pertinent of questions. Can I play with the puppy??
"What did I ask you to do while the adults ate?" To play outside. "Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast."
The song is still playing in the background of the door opening and shutting and in that small window of opportunity another child comes into the house. Can we ride four wheelers? "What did I ask you to do while the adults were eating?" To play outside. "Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast." So... We can't ride four wheelers? At that point "the look" was administered.
Mom started laughing and said, "I don't know why I thought you could listen to an entire song." Welcome to my world! We started the song again and almost made it through the entire thing. We put the finishing touches to our breakfast and called the men inside. We said the prayer and began to eat. The door burst open and I heard "Chloe is hurt and she needs you right now!!" What happened? "I think she got hit in the head by the soccer ball!" Is her head still attached? Is she bleeding? Is she walking and talking, then she can come inside and let me look at her. The door slams and we try to continue our conversation. During this time, I notice our puppy running back and forth from one of the girls rooms to my room. I put a little bell on her because she is so small, we can find her and won't step on her. That bell is jingling as hard as it can. I'm telling stories about the kids and about every 2 minutes she's running like the devil is chasing her. Her back is hunched over and her tail is tucked beneath her body and her ears are flopping. The door flies open and Chloe come stomping in and down the hallway. She isn't happy I didn't run to her aid. SLAM! The door shut once again. Jingle, jingle, jingle the dogs collar goes as she is flying across the hallway once again. Apparently she has gotten into one of the rooms that she isn't supposed to be and is running around in victory of stealing a toy. I start back into my story, yet again and the door chimes again, "front door". "They won't let me have the bike! Daddy said he would teach me how to ride without training wheels!" Excuse me. "What did I ask you to do while the adults were eating? Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast. We will fix it all then." The dog runs across, once again. I believe we were able to get through several bites and the littlest one comes in with pure panic on her face. Patenna (McKenna) fell down and is bweeding! "Oh Lord! Can she walk? Ask her to come inside." She tan't walk, she's BWEEDING! As if on queue, the puppy runs across and back again as if in emphasis of he impending doom that awaited us.
Robby jumps up and comes to her aid. She had fallen while using her roller blades and skinned her "bad eh-bow" (she broke her elbow a few months back, yes you can do that). She had a spot of blood on her elbow and she was walking but acted as though she needed a wheelchair. I took a deep breath and looked at mom and David. We all just started laughing. What a nice relaxing breakfast we were having. I started winking and twitching like I was starting to get a tick. No sooner than my sarcasm overtakes me, one more child comes through and asks about something that was not an emergency. I didn't even respond. We just all started moving in different directions showing our defeat trying to get some peace and the guys went outside to play with the kids while we cleaned up from breakfast as the dog runs back across the hallway.
I did find out why she was acting so crazy. She had gotten into the girls room and stole a stuffed baby puppy. She thought she had done something big! Mom and I cleaned up and watched the kids play and learn how to ride their bike without training wheels. The boys threw the football and the girls painted on the hammock. It looked so peaceful to watch them play outside. Looks can be deceiving. The morning was pure chaos. When they are gone, we miss it.
I have never in my life been on such an emotional roller coaster. Either they are in tears or I am most weekends. I feel like we should have this figured out by now but as my own sweet guardian angel and mom of 4 told me, we just started. I can't expect to have figured anything out yet and that is ok. There's so many things no one could ever understand that is going on behind the scenes. The accusations and tears, the emotional children being told to keep secrets and using the children's fears to get what they want. Dealing with emotional abuse and fearing what's going on that we don't know about. Knowing that the only power we have is prayer and not liking the feeling of having no control. Prayer can change things but it's hard to let that be your secret weapon. From the outside it looks like you are "taking" what's being dished out. It's humbling.
You may not can get through 5 minutes without some sort of "emergency " or one week without a lawyer calling or a threat from your ex but it's ok. Sometimes the hardest, most challenging and craziest things are what helps us be who we need to be. Sometimes it's the unexpected emotions that make us realize it's ok to not be ok. It's ok to feel overwhelmed. It doesn't reflect badly on your mothering skills to have a revolving door, it means your children are human and so are you. It's ok to want to hide in the closet and put a sign on the door that reads "Out of the office". Hang up your superwoman cape. She is only real in comics and movies. Just breathe. Plaster a smile on your face, force yourself not to scream at your children and remember that in moments they will not be right down the hall and forgetting to shut their doors. The dog won't be stealing their toys, she'll be whining by their doors because they don't live their anymore. Enjoy the chaos and smile through the tears. Besides, it all makes for a great story!
The next morning we decided we would make the kids pancakes and let them eat so we could have some adult conversation and could eat in peace. The children ate 2-4 pancakes a piece and were released to go outside while we got our meal finished and table set. My mom and I play music while we cook. She had been wanting me to hear a song that she said reminded her of my grandpa that passed away before she was remarried. She started the song and the first couple notes were played and a child emerges in front of me with the most pertinent of questions. Can I play with the puppy??
"What did I ask you to do while the adults ate?" To play outside. "Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast."
The song is still playing in the background of the door opening and shutting and in that small window of opportunity another child comes into the house. Can we ride four wheelers? "What did I ask you to do while the adults were eating?" To play outside. "Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast." So... We can't ride four wheelers? At that point "the look" was administered.
Mom started laughing and said, "I don't know why I thought you could listen to an entire song." Welcome to my world! We started the song again and almost made it through the entire thing. We put the finishing touches to our breakfast and called the men inside. We said the prayer and began to eat. The door burst open and I heard "Chloe is hurt and she needs you right now!!" What happened? "I think she got hit in the head by the soccer ball!" Is her head still attached? Is she bleeding? Is she walking and talking, then she can come inside and let me look at her. The door slams and we try to continue our conversation. During this time, I notice our puppy running back and forth from one of the girls rooms to my room. I put a little bell on her because she is so small, we can find her and won't step on her. That bell is jingling as hard as it can. I'm telling stories about the kids and about every 2 minutes she's running like the devil is chasing her. Her back is hunched over and her tail is tucked beneath her body and her ears are flopping. The door flies open and Chloe come stomping in and down the hallway. She isn't happy I didn't run to her aid. SLAM! The door shut once again. Jingle, jingle, jingle the dogs collar goes as she is flying across the hallway once again. Apparently she has gotten into one of the rooms that she isn't supposed to be and is running around in victory of stealing a toy. I start back into my story, yet again and the door chimes again, "front door". "They won't let me have the bike! Daddy said he would teach me how to ride without training wheels!" Excuse me. "What did I ask you to do while the adults were eating? Please do not come back in. We will all play after we eat but let us talk for a little bit and eat our breakfast. We will fix it all then." The dog runs across, once again. I believe we were able to get through several bites and the littlest one comes in with pure panic on her face. Patenna (McKenna) fell down and is bweeding! "Oh Lord! Can she walk? Ask her to come inside." She tan't walk, she's BWEEDING! As if on queue, the puppy runs across and back again as if in emphasis of he impending doom that awaited us.
Robby jumps up and comes to her aid. She had fallen while using her roller blades and skinned her "bad eh-bow" (she broke her elbow a few months back, yes you can do that). She had a spot of blood on her elbow and she was walking but acted as though she needed a wheelchair. I took a deep breath and looked at mom and David. We all just started laughing. What a nice relaxing breakfast we were having. I started winking and twitching like I was starting to get a tick. No sooner than my sarcasm overtakes me, one more child comes through and asks about something that was not an emergency. I didn't even respond. We just all started moving in different directions showing our defeat trying to get some peace and the guys went outside to play with the kids while we cleaned up from breakfast as the dog runs back across the hallway.
I did find out why she was acting so crazy. She had gotten into the girls room and stole a stuffed baby puppy. She thought she had done something big! Mom and I cleaned up and watched the kids play and learn how to ride their bike without training wheels. The boys threw the football and the girls painted on the hammock. It looked so peaceful to watch them play outside. Looks can be deceiving. The morning was pure chaos. When they are gone, we miss it.
I have never in my life been on such an emotional roller coaster. Either they are in tears or I am most weekends. I feel like we should have this figured out by now but as my own sweet guardian angel and mom of 4 told me, we just started. I can't expect to have figured anything out yet and that is ok. There's so many things no one could ever understand that is going on behind the scenes. The accusations and tears, the emotional children being told to keep secrets and using the children's fears to get what they want. Dealing with emotional abuse and fearing what's going on that we don't know about. Knowing that the only power we have is prayer and not liking the feeling of having no control. Prayer can change things but it's hard to let that be your secret weapon. From the outside it looks like you are "taking" what's being dished out. It's humbling.
You may not can get through 5 minutes without some sort of "emergency " or one week without a lawyer calling or a threat from your ex but it's ok. Sometimes the hardest, most challenging and craziest things are what helps us be who we need to be. Sometimes it's the unexpected emotions that make us realize it's ok to not be ok. It's ok to feel overwhelmed. It doesn't reflect badly on your mothering skills to have a revolving door, it means your children are human and so are you. It's ok to want to hide in the closet and put a sign on the door that reads "Out of the office". Hang up your superwoman cape. She is only real in comics and movies. Just breathe. Plaster a smile on your face, force yourself not to scream at your children and remember that in moments they will not be right down the hall and forgetting to shut their doors. The dog won't be stealing their toys, she'll be whining by their doors because they don't live their anymore. Enjoy the chaos and smile through the tears. Besides, it all makes for a great story!
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