What’s it like raising seven children? It’s like this.

Yesterday I was given some interview questions to answer, and one of them was What is it like raising seven children?  

What is it like raising 7 children?

Well, it’s not much different than raising one or two.

There are just more of them.

But I can give you a snapshot of the last week.

Last week around  2 a.m. I went upstairs to take Number 6 to the bathroom because even though he’s six he’s such a sound sleeper that he won’t wake up no matter how badly he has to pee, and as I came back downstairs I saw the cat in the kitchen trying to scale one of the walls and I saw something on the ceiling but I couldn’t tell what it was because I didn’t have any glasses on and it was kind of dark, so I went into the bedroom and I told my husband there was something in the kitchen and he went  to see what it was and about ten minutes later he came back and cracked open the door and said,

“Susie… I know what was on the ceiling…

A BAT. I caught it in a plastic container and I’m not going to kill it, I’m going to put it outside, but before I do, do you want to see it?”

Me: HOLY SHIT. NO.

***

Last weekend I coached a swim meet. While I was gone, the kids apparently decided to paint.

Everything.

The table on my back deck has been covered in paint and  empty paint bottles and  petrified paint brushes for four days.

Every day I have asked a kid to clean up the mess. Every day a kid has ignored me.

***

Three days ago Number 7 punched Number 6 in the mouth and finally dislodged the loose tooth that he wouldn’t let me pull out.

***

In the past five days I have been to four swim meets and four baseball games.  I have spent at least an hour looking for lost goggles and misplaced bathing suits and matching baseball socks.

***

Our neighbor’s cat, Titan, spends more time at our house than he does at his own. He’s an outdoor cat and my kids have been begging to let him inside. Two days ago someone left the sliding door to our deck open, and the neighbor’s cat got inside. He and our cat  looked at each other for  about three seconds and then…

BOOM! Catfight.

Like the Catfight of the Century in my living room.

Fur flying and cats screeching.

I managed to separate them and shoo the neighbor’s cat outside.  But our cat, who is not an outdoor cat, took off after him.

Catfight #2 of the Century ensued on the back deck.

Number 4 and 5 were screaming and crying hysterically. Number 3 didn’t know what the hell to do.

Catfights are no joke.

I got a towel and eventually got a hold of our cat and brought her inside.

I got everyone calmed down but had to hurry to get ready for swim practice. I was sweaty and I smelled disgusting so I went in to take a shower. I  took off all my clothes, sat down on the toilet, and Number 3 came bursting into the bathroom.

“THE CAT HAS ONE OF TITAN’S CLAWS STUCK  IN HER NECK!!!”

Oh. My. God. 

“Can I please have a little privacy?”

I’m not really modest, but sitting bare-assed naked on the toilet and pooping while my eleven-year-old son stands there staring at me is where I have to draw the line.

He got out. I got in the shower. Fifteen seconds later,  Number 5 came bursting into the bathroom.

“MOM!!! WE PULLED TITAN’S CLAW OUT OF THE CAT’S NECK!!! WANNA SEE IT?”

 Oh. My. God.

“No. I’d really just like to finish taking this shower alone.”

***

Later that night, when I had just drifted off to sleep, Number 6 came crying hysterically into the bedroom.

“What’s the matter, ” I asked him.

“MY HAND HURTS!!!”  he screamed.

Number 6 sleeps on his stomach and often has his arms under his body and his hands fall asleep a couple times a week and it eventually wakes him up. I walked him upstairs and did the obligatory five minutes of hand rubbing until the pins and needles were gone.

I climbed back into bed and almost fell back asleep when Number 5 came into the room.

Shit.

I pretended to be asleep. My husband was going to have to field this one.

“I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THE CAT FIGHT!” she yell-whispered.

My husband, who hadn’t gotten home until about 10:00 that night, had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

I feigned sleep and he took her upstairs.

I fell asleep before my husband came back downstairs.

But twenty minutes later Number 5 was back again. She was still thinking about the cat fight.

MOTHERF&%$ER.

I took her upstairs and helped her find some other things to  think about until she fell asleep.

***

The next day I was making some dinner and I was washing off some lettuce and I was looking for the special lettuce container that I bought that keeps the lettuce crisp and from getting brown and cost about fifteen bucks which is a lot for me and I was almost to the point where I was tearing the kitchen apart and then I finally said “DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE THE CONTAINER I KEEP THE LETTUCE IN IS?”

And my husband looked at me and said, “Oh…  that’s the container I used to catch the bat. It’s outside. Do you want me to get it?”

Oh. My. God. Time to get a new lettuce crisper.

***

I have been with the kids basically nonstop and 24/7 for the past few weeks, and today the house was a shit hole and  Number 3 was freaking out over Titan the neighbor’s cat being lonely and Number 7 was  crawling around on the floor drinking water out of a bowl asking everyone to now call her a dog and Number 6 was screaming his head off because he couldn’t find the surgical gloves that he stole out of the tool shed at swim practice and blew up and has been “milking” all day and the fucking paint was still on the back deck along with all the crusty paint brushes and a bunch of papers and stampers and other crap and I started picking it all up and gathering the paint brushes to try and salvage them and then I realized what the hell I was doing and how pissed I was that no one had picked any of it up and instead of cleaning it up and putting it back I got a garbage bag and I threw all that shit right into the garbage can.

If the kids aren’t going to take care of it, then fuck it.

I’m throwing it away.

And that’s what it’s like raising seven children.

 

Look cute while you manage the chaos. Click here.