It never fails: a visitor will stop by my office, needing information or whatnot, and will see my computer desktop picture. It’s not a nature scene, or a print…it’s a picture of my kids, taken about twelve years ago.
It’s not an unusual image; lots of people put pictures of their kids on their monitor screens. On photo day, I had brought them home from summer camp and daycare, dressed them hurriedly in something clean and neat, and arranged them in a set so I could snap a good picture for a Father’s Day present for my husband. (Somewhere, there is a set of pictures that tell the hysterical story from that shoot. My daughters, aged eight and seven, historically fought over who got to hold the six-month baby. In subsequent pictures, the tug of war got heated and the baby’s breathing was increasingly challenged as the girls fought for control. Mercifully, there are only twelve pictures or we wouldn’t have that baby to kick around any longer.)
But to most visitors, there is something fairly unusual about the picture: there are four children in there, sitting (relatively) nicely for the camera.
And the question always comes. “Those aren’t all YOUR kids, are they?”
Happily, the answer is ‘yes.’ At this point in the conversation I generally tell the story of the baby being strangled and whip out my current set of pictures.
It’s an office, so people don’t say much more, and I work in human resources, so no one ever, ever goes there, but the look on their face says it all: “Why?” (Their confusion makes sense. Statistically speaking, I’m an outlier: a Gallup poll in 2007 found that two-thirds of Americans believe that two or fewer children in a family is ideal. Women at my professional level, on average, have no more than two children.)
A friend made me a beautiful silver crucifix that I always wear, so the first, most common supposition is that I have all those kids because I’m a devout Catholic. The truth: I’m a fair-to-middlin’ observant Catholic, yes, but I wear Kathy’s gift because it’s beautiful, and she made it for me.
The truth? I’m really, really good with numbers, but as a veteran analyst I’m ashamed to admit that I’m shockingly bad with calendars.
More truth? I had always thought that three kids would be just about right. I’m the youngest of five kids and ‘just’ having two kids seemed a bit…quiet. Of course, for over three years I had three kids but my husband had always hoped for more, and who am I to say that my vision of the best family size is the only one that counts, or that I should arbitrarily override such a fundamental human desire in a man I love so much?
And so I’m glad that my calendar skills bite. Every single one of those kids has taught me something that none of their siblings could have taught me. I love them all with all my heart. But as my mother is fond of saying about her own five: “I wouldn’t take a million dollars (in trade) for any of them, but I wouldn’t give you a nickel for another one.”
Amen.
© E.S. Evans 2010
Mom, Interrupted 
I have never even once thought you were crazy for having four children. I’ve always thought you were quite blessed actually. I would have loved to have more children after the twins were born, but God had other plans for our family. And that’s ok too. So, I guess I fall into the statistics nicely, but more because I have to fall there, not because I want to fall there.
Maybe you didn’t think I’m crazy because you’re crazy, too. Just sayin’.
Srsly: thank you. That’s sweet. And I’m thinking that twins have an exponential factor built in that makes it the moral equivalent of four kids. So you’re getting the full experience, never fear.
I’m awed by those who choose to have more than one or two kids. AWED. After having my second, I had no doubts about shutting down “the factory” so to speak. Although I made that decision when I was barely 30, I haven’t had any regrets, at all, ever. Like you, I love my kids with all my heart. I just had no idea how exhausting parenting would be. Parenting a larger family, to me, conjures the same response as finding out someone has competed in an Iron Man Triathleon- admiration and awe.
It amazes me how judgemental people get about big families. I’m one of 5 and consider myself so lucky to have 2 brothers and 2 sisters… personally I think it’s great when all the kids have at least a brother and a sister. I know not all brothers and sisters have great relationships but there’s still a dynamic there that’s just not replaceable.
Not to mention having 4 kids should help insure you a pretty good quality of life in the future… even if you don’t live with any of them… with 4 they can at least take turns visiting you pretty often. 😉
I happen to get that quite often myself…when dining out at restaurants, people stop eating and stare when we walk in the door followed by our 6 children, ages 11 down to 1 year old. They hold their breath, just waiting for all you-know-what to break loose. Just recently, at a surgeon’s office visit for my 3 year old son, the surgeon asked if all of the kids were mine. Yes, we are one of those “strange” families, too. A father and mother, married 14 years ago, with 6 children who are ALL ours. 🙂
Whatever happened to the large families? That used to be the majority!
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Anyone who’s seen the kids’ bathroom might well question whether we were crazy to have four children. The perpetual wad of wet towels left on the floor alone is enough to make one wonder about the enormity of the full global impact. Forever bereft is the hotel quality towel rack on the wall RIGHT NEXT TO THE BATH TUB. Probably better not to think about it.
It’s been a while since I gave one of them a bath so maybe I’m not seeing all the joy of raising children through the mess that’s become of the toilet (something I’m told I have a high threshold of tolerance for) when I look in there.
What I do know is that life is chaotic, stressful and messy. How can the lonely sterility of a perfectly ordered home compare to the dynamic excitement of sitting down to the rolling frolic of dinner with the whole family?
So what is the ‘right number’ of children to have? There are a lot of answers like China’s One-Child policy intended to rein in all the chaotic, stressful mess of a fruitful population. Our children’s bathroom underscores the wisdom in that. Set against the millions of sparkling Chinese bathrooms is the joy around the kitchen table where (let’s face it) it’s the more the merrier. Logically expressed this might be LIFE = MESS + CHAOS where LIFE = BEAUTY and BEAUTY = SPONTANEOUS ELEGANCE and SPONTANEOUS ELEGANCE = KIDS.
I’ll take the dirty socks stuffed under the couch, the funk wafting from a teenager’s bedroom, and a basset searching for who knows what in overstuffed wastepaper baskets. There will be time soon enough to perfect a home filled only with the memory of children.