When other shoppers see our huge Target cart of blonde kids coming down the aisle, about half of them grin and tell me how wonderful big families are. The other half just kind of stare. And count. And check me out to see if I might be pregnant again. Or wearing an Amish hair cover.
On good days, our kids are the advertisement for why every family should keep having babies. Catie pushes the cart and bosses the other kids around like the caring big sister she is. Sam and Elisabeth quickly become engrossed in being Luke and Leia Skywalker. Nate puts the “fun” in Big Fun Family. He loudly proclaims the slightly bratty phrases that entertain the other shoppers. (“Mommy. If you don’t buy me fruit snacks, I don’t think we can be best friends anymore.”).
Regardless of what other Target shoppers think of us, I wonder what my own kids will remember about growing up in a family with so many siblings so close in age. Will they love that they always had a brother or sister to play with OR will they grow up to be codependent and struggle to be alone? Will all these siblings be the force that draws them back home when they’re adults OR are our lives so chaotic, there’s no real bonding going on here?
Mostly I worry about the lack of one-on-one time I spend with each kid. Kids in big families become so used to being part of a group, they don’t really seek out the time alone with Mom or Dad. Will our kids develop their own opinions? Big-family kids have to think community-minded all the time. No, you can’t have ice cream if there isn’t enough for three other kids. Get your homework done with everyone else because Bed Time is in twenty minutes. You want to go to the park? Sorry. All the other kids want to stay here. Maybe tomorrow.
Good or bad, here is one truth I know about big families. We go through A LOT of groceries. And A WHOLE LOT of toilet paper. Around Christmas, Sam’s teacher sent an email saying she needed used toilet paper rolls for a project. Every single day since Christmas our family has used up a roll of toilet paper. So, every day since December, I’ve sent a toilet paper core in Sam’s bag. I’m not sure if his teacher thinks this is as funny as I do. Maybe she’s from a big family and gets it.
And if she is, she knows all about how people stare at you when you go to Target…
…to buy more toilet paper.
