The other day I was sitting with a new group of people...actually some of the people at the table we had sat with the previous week, and the other couple was new. We went through the name thing, the 'what do you do" thing, and were onto the "how many kids" thing. The new couple didn't have any, yet, and seemed a little sad about that. The couple from last week knew how many children we had, so laughed when the new couple asked us. The couple from last week had one son. We have 6 sons. And 4 daughters, so that is always a fun time. We try to avoid saying we have 10 kids unless we are planning on really knowing the people.
Anyway, when the new couple expressed surprise at the number of kids we had, they said the usual, "wow, you must be busy". Yes, we are. I am used to these responses, so have them pretty down pat. Then the woman from last week said that she had a friend with "4 or 5" (some friend, she didn't know?!) and that SHE had said that once you have 4 or 5, it isn't that much more work to have... more.
Really?! Of course, I couldn't think of a response right then, but I thought about it a lot that day. Yes, my children help me out with the younger ones. Yes, my children help with running around, chores, cooking, and even teaching. But raise themselves? The way she said it implied that these are just herd animals, not individuals with their own thoughts, preferences, ideas, likes, dislikes and personalities. Besides being different ages (except the twins, of course), they are different genders, and are going through different things at different times. It isn't like I am raising 10 identical people. I can't imagine someone telling a mom of, say septuplets that they are all the same, yet that is what she said to me. My adult son is *slightly* different from my preschooler daughter.
Wow. I just can't account for some people.
