With only four children, I am not completely comfortable identifying myself as having a big family, especially when I know plenty of families who have enough children to field an entire baseball team. However, my husband frequently reminds me that we have more than average, and we do get comments when we’re out in public with our brood.
We were blessed to be at the beach not too long ago and eating at a noisy, crowded restaurant when my oldest dropped her flip-flop and accidentally bumped into a man when she was trying to retrieve it. His entire table turned to look at us, and I said, “Sorry!” thinking they were annoyed by my daughter’s wayward elbow or perhaps my 2-year-old’s happy but loud giggles as I magically pulled a broken piece of red crayon from his ear. But to my surprise, they all smiled and said, “Oh no. We’re just amazed.”
They didn’t elaborate, so I’m not sure if they were amazed by the sheer size of our family or the fact that the kids were staying put in their chairs and not scaling any tables, hurling food, or partaking in any other form of rowdiness. Give my kids food, and they will eat. When their mouths are full, they are pretty quiet. I am lucky to have four kids with voracious appetites.
On the way home from dinner another group of older adults marveled at our family as well. This time the kids were walking in a straight line like obedient, little ducklings. They were docile on account of all the ice cream cone licking. My husband and I chatted with the adults and they joked about how we’d better start saving for all those weddings.
“We are already encouraging eloping or barbeque-style receptions,” my husband joked.
I’ve often said that I felt like it was having the fourth baby that escalated me into the big family category or in some eyes’, the freak club or the we-hate-Planet-Earth-and-are-going-to-use-up-obscene-amounts-of-resources groups (as if our carbon footprint comes even close to the green Hollywood stars who take weekend trips to Cabo). It’s also taken having four kids fairly close together to teach me some valuable lessons that might be helpful to other parents of bigish families. (Although, honestly, most of these tips would be helpful to parents of any size family. )
For instance, what we think really matters when we welcome our first child into our arms, doesn’t really matter all that much – or at all. Like a nursery. Fortunately, we couldn’t afford to decorate a fancy nursery with our first. We didn’t have the room for it either. My husband was still in school and I was a freelance journalist when Madeline arrived. We squeezed a crib (the Consumer Report’s best buy that cost us 99 bucks) into a nook of a room that also had a coat closet and our computer in it. I remember being kind of disappointed that we couldn’t do more for our little love, especially when I’d see some of my friend’s Pottery Barn-inspired nurseries but four kids later, I know a grand nursery would have been an epic waste*, especially for our crew since our kids tend to make use of the family bed. I also know that like so many things in parenting a lovely nursery is not really for the baby. All she needs is love and her basic needs met. That nursery is more for the parents. Aside from a nursery is purely optional, I am going to share some other lessons I’ve gleaned as my family as grown in a series of upcoming posts, so stay tuned!
*Please know I am not judging any parent who does design a beautiful nursery. To be fair, I am also not too good at the whole house design kind of things or DIY projects. It tends to feel more like a chore than fun, but I know some people really enjoy the process. But if you don’t enjoy it and/or don’t have the financial resources and just feel pressured to have a nice nursery because you feel like it’s a sign of your love for your baby, know your little wonder could care less about whether her room is painted in Benjamin Moore’s “Sounds of Nature” green and outfitted with chevron curtains and a Serena & Lily crib and bedding. Your nursery’s style is NOT correlated to your love for your child. Got it? Good.