We all know who the Octomom is, right? In case you have been living in a bubble, let me quick explain. Octomom is a woman in California with 14 children, all under the age of 9 or something insane like that. She has been quoted saying she hopes to raise all 14 by herself, with no help. When I first heard that I thought, good for her! Glad it is not me, but maybe she can really do it with lots of patience and love. After today...I think she is one crazy lunatic.
What I am about to share is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Ellen - mother to Greg and Tyler, provides daily care for two other children, Renee and Cole
Linda - mother to Denise and Carly
Me (Sarah) - mother to Kate
Each Tuesday Ellen, Linda and I get together for a play date. Really it is less for the children and more for us moms to interact with adults. Well this Tuesday's play date was scheduled for my house. The first two hours or so went really smoothly. The kids played well; made some expected, but mighty, messes with toys. However, things took a turn.
I believe it began when the kids found their way upstairs, despite our constant reminders to stay on the main level. We finally give in and since we are unable to supervise all 7 children and still maintain a conversation, us moms decided to let the older kids play alone upstairs. (And when I say older, I mean 2 and up. Don't report this to DHS please.) Things were going well until we heard a loud bang and a yelp. Ellen and I run upstairs (me carrying my 5 month pregnant belly) to find three kids jumping on Kate's 100+ year old bed (no lie) and Kate was unfortunately leading the charge. And without us noticing young Tyler snuck upstairs and was ferociously pulling pretties out of the girls' hair and trying to rip off the pants of another youngster. After settling things, Ellen and I returned to the living room. Shortly thereafter Ellen says, I think I hear water. She walks to the bathroom and lets out a shriek. I run into the room and find water pouring onto the floor. Some child had turned on the sink and the 92 year old drain was not able to handle the consistent flow of water and was therefore overflowing onto the floor. I dart (as fast as a 5 month pregnant lady can) upstairs to find towels while Ellen and Linda play detective; interrogating children until someone fessed up to playing with the faucets.
A few minutes later we hear lots of giggling. One of us turns the corner to check on the kiddos and find them huddled together with Baxter the cat in the corner. Thanks to quick movement and apparently 9 lives remaining (now only 8), Baxter escapes...and the kids follow. Baxter streaks through the house while the kids chase her. Little Tyler is quite literally chasing her with a giant cardboard paper tube in the air. Baxter is much faster than the kids so she evades them, but I know if they find her again Baxter will use her claws to retaliate. I make a mad dash through each room, searching for our cat. I finally find her sprinting from the bathroom as one of the kids yell, "I FOUND HER!" I scoop up the cat and open her door to freedom, a.k.a. the basement. The kids catch up with me just as I'm shutting the door. "Where is the kitty, Sarah?" I say, "I think Baxter had to go potty so she went to the basement. We should give her some privacy." The older kids grip the door handle and I politely ask them to leave the door shut so the babies don't fall down the stairs. They actually listen but they don't let go of the knob. Instead they incessantly rattle the door like hungry, caged wolves, knowing their dinner sits on the other side.
By this time everyone is starving, so I suggest we order some Casey's pizza for lunch. After a long half hour of waiting we pour 7 sippy cups of milk, chop up 7 slices of pizza, pass out 7 napkins, and shake 7 helpings of Parmesan cheese onto each plate. By the time Linda, Ellen and I get our plates the kids are ready for more. So we start all over again....sippy cups, chopping, Parmesan. Finally we grab something to eat just as 5 of the 7 kids dart away with greasy fingers and resumed energy. Between bites we each take turns listening to stories (tattling) and breaking up fights over toys. In the meantime, the littlest guy, Cole, falls asleep in my arms. We eventually put him down on the living room floor which is quite literally the safest place in the whole house at this point. He manages to sleep through fire engine toys, high pitched, screeching voices and several playful pokes from his sister.
And somewhere between jumping on beds and chasing innocent cats, Tyler and Renee made it their quest to de-winterize our plastic covered windows. Almost each and every time one of us moms turned around there would be Tyler or Renee slapping the plastic on the windows...or pulling it up off the window sill. I think at least 6 of our windows are now officially ready for spring. Let's hope we don't get another cold spell.
So after 4 hours of playtime, 4 soaking bath towels, 1 roll of paper towels, 2 pizzas and 104 trips upstairs, the house is still and Kate is asleep. I think I will grab myself a brownie with ice cream and watch a little tv.
What I am about to share is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Ellen - mother to Greg and Tyler, provides daily care for two other children, Renee and Cole
Linda - mother to Denise and Carly
Me (Sarah) - mother to Kate
Each Tuesday Ellen, Linda and I get together for a play date. Really it is less for the children and more for us moms to interact with adults. Well this Tuesday's play date was scheduled for my house. The first two hours or so went really smoothly. The kids played well; made some expected, but mighty, messes with toys. However, things took a turn.
I believe it began when the kids found their way upstairs, despite our constant reminders to stay on the main level. We finally give in and since we are unable to supervise all 7 children and still maintain a conversation, us moms decided to let the older kids play alone upstairs. (And when I say older, I mean 2 and up. Don't report this to DHS please.) Things were going well until we heard a loud bang and a yelp. Ellen and I run upstairs (me carrying my 5 month pregnant belly) to find three kids jumping on Kate's 100+ year old bed (no lie) and Kate was unfortunately leading the charge. And without us noticing young Tyler snuck upstairs and was ferociously pulling pretties out of the girls' hair and trying to rip off the pants of another youngster. After settling things, Ellen and I returned to the living room. Shortly thereafter Ellen says, I think I hear water. She walks to the bathroom and lets out a shriek. I run into the room and find water pouring onto the floor. Some child had turned on the sink and the 92 year old drain was not able to handle the consistent flow of water and was therefore overflowing onto the floor. I dart (as fast as a 5 month pregnant lady can) upstairs to find towels while Ellen and Linda play detective; interrogating children until someone fessed up to playing with the faucets.
A few minutes later we hear lots of giggling. One of us turns the corner to check on the kiddos and find them huddled together with Baxter the cat in the corner. Thanks to quick movement and apparently 9 lives remaining (now only 8), Baxter escapes...and the kids follow. Baxter streaks through the house while the kids chase her. Little Tyler is quite literally chasing her with a giant cardboard paper tube in the air. Baxter is much faster than the kids so she evades them, but I know if they find her again Baxter will use her claws to retaliate. I make a mad dash through each room, searching for our cat. I finally find her sprinting from the bathroom as one of the kids yell, "I FOUND HER!" I scoop up the cat and open her door to freedom, a.k.a. the basement. The kids catch up with me just as I'm shutting the door. "Where is the kitty, Sarah?" I say, "I think Baxter had to go potty so she went to the basement. We should give her some privacy." The older kids grip the door handle and I politely ask them to leave the door shut so the babies don't fall down the stairs. They actually listen but they don't let go of the knob. Instead they incessantly rattle the door like hungry, caged wolves, knowing their dinner sits on the other side.
By this time everyone is starving, so I suggest we order some Casey's pizza for lunch. After a long half hour of waiting we pour 7 sippy cups of milk, chop up 7 slices of pizza, pass out 7 napkins, and shake 7 helpings of Parmesan cheese onto each plate. By the time Linda, Ellen and I get our plates the kids are ready for more. So we start all over again....sippy cups, chopping, Parmesan. Finally we grab something to eat just as 5 of the 7 kids dart away with greasy fingers and resumed energy. Between bites we each take turns listening to stories (tattling) and breaking up fights over toys. In the meantime, the littlest guy, Cole, falls asleep in my arms. We eventually put him down on the living room floor which is quite literally the safest place in the whole house at this point. He manages to sleep through fire engine toys, high pitched, screeching voices and several playful pokes from his sister.
And somewhere between jumping on beds and chasing innocent cats, Tyler and Renee made it their quest to de-winterize our plastic covered windows. Almost each and every time one of us moms turned around there would be Tyler or Renee slapping the plastic on the windows...or pulling it up off the window sill. I think at least 6 of our windows are now officially ready for spring. Let's hope we don't get another cold spell.
So after 4 hours of playtime, 4 soaking bath towels, 1 roll of paper towels, 2 pizzas and 104 trips upstairs, the house is still and Kate is asleep. I think I will grab myself a brownie with ice cream and watch a little tv.
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