The nursery rhyme, “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,” popped in my head whenever I had a moment to stop and think last week. “ ... she had so many kids, she didn't know what to do.” I should confess that I only have two kids. And still, three days packed securely in my house felt a bit like we were living in a shoe.
All my five-year old wanted to do was play in the snow, which I couldn't do because the other child is only three months. All my three-month old wanted to do was cry because he is teething. This too shall pass, I thought as he slobbered down my back. My days inside were spent making chocolate milk, bottles, lunch snacks of grapes and Doritos, and endless pots of coffee.
We were extremely fortunate that our power was only out for half the day. By dinner time last Wednesday, I was able to put together enough food from my refrigerator and cupboard to feed my brother, neighbor, and Grandmother, all of whom were without electricity and heat. I also got to watch television, and the one story that got my attention every time was the new mother of octuplets.
The original press conference included the doctors who delivered the eight children. They stood behind a podium and declared that all the babies were born safely and appeared to be in good health considering the circumstance.
Eight children, I thought over and over as I made bottles of formula, changed diapers and tried my best to sooth my fussy, teething babe. Eight is enough. Eight is too many. But then we learned that there were not only the eight new babies, but six more at home-all under the age of seven.
My head exploded and I had to make another pot of coffee with an extra scoop. I needed something strong to fathom this breaking news. Fourteen kids under the age of seven. Fourteen kids under the age of seven. Fourteen kids under the age of seven. I kept thinking it to myself over and over again. She literally had so many kids that I didn't know what to do.
Here I was stuck in my house with a three-month-old and a five-year old — an independent five-year old who will play alone perfectly well — and I was already making lists of all the things I would do when the ice melted and I got to drive again.
What do you think about when you're in a hospital bed and have eight new born babies in the nursery and six at home? For me, it's a bit like trying to consider the edge of the universe. Does it ever cease to exist? And what's on the other side? This woman's life was as hard for me to grasp as the idea of infinity. What do you do when you have fourteen children who need you?
I imagined what my day would be like with 14 kids; it would be the next day before they all ate one decent meal. I would get out of bed with the best of intentions, “ ... this morning will be great. This morning I will fix a healthy breakfast for all 14 and no television until after lunch.” I would make it maybe to the fifth kid before I'd throw in the towel and start pouring bowls of Fruit Loops and turning on Disney.
One of my great aunts is the mother of twelve. All of her children survived childhood and they were all boys, which is quite a feat. Her childrearing days started in the 1950s, before in-vitro or hormone enhancements. All 12 of her kiddos happened the natural way (yes, she was Catholic).
Since becoming a mom myself, I've thought of her often and the will power it took to raise 12 boys without becoming a valium addict. Some days I imagine getting in my car to go to the grocery and ending up in the very most southern part of Florida, alone. I don't think my aunt had thoughts like that ... do you have time for your own thoughts when you have twelve kids?
I imagine with 14 kids there is not enough time to stop and think about anything except what you have to do next. With 14 children under the age of seven, there is going to be another nose to wipe, another glass to fill, another diaper to change, another scraped knee to kiss, and another Dr. Seuss book to read for a long, long time.
The phrase, “This too shall pass,” doesn't offer a lot of comfort when you are the mother of fourteen children under the age of seven. Here's to hoping that she doesn't have to suffer through any snow storms soon.
Amy Gesenhues is a freelance writer who lives in Floyd County. You can read her daily commentaries at www.AmyWroteIt.Wordpress.com. E-mail her directly at amy@amywroteit.com.
Columns
GESENHUES: Living in a shoe
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