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!!
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