You can spot us from a mile away, or more likely hear us before you see us. My partner, Jake, and I often communicate with exaggerated hand signals, gritting our teeth in a silent warning to one of the kids: “This is it. Never again!” Although let’s be honest, it’s probably the thousandth time we’ve said that.
We scramble to tidy up just ten minutes before guests arrive, but within two minutes of achieving some semblance of order, it’s back to our usual chaotic state. When we finally manage to arrive at church—if we’re only a few minutes late, that’s a win—it’s been said more than once that the “entertainment” has arrived. Yep, that’s us.
We tend to run the dryer a few more times than necessary to “re” fluff the laundry that’s been waiting for, what day is it again? People in grocery stores, malls, and amusement parks definitely have mixed feelings about us. We’re the ones pushing two shopping carts and a double stroller while our kids zigzag everywhere they shouldn’t be.
It’s safe to say we haven’t had a good night’s sleep in seven years and that probably won’t change for at least seven more. Our vehicle is bursting at the seams, and whether it’s a day trip or an overnight stay, we’re hauling a dozen bags just to make it work. But don’t worry, if something goes missing, we can probably find an extra sock or two, a few shoes, or an extra sippy cup hidden in the nooks and crannies of our car.
As our family grows, our invitations to gatherings seem to shrink. We buy enough groceries to feed a small army, yet somehow, within days, we find ourselves scrambling to restock on essentials like paper towels and diapers. Mealtimes are a whirlwind of crying, screaming, and spontaneous dance parties in the kitchen. Yep, that’s our life 23 hours a day, 6.5 days a week.
You can usually find me zipping around the house, nursing a baby in one arm while chasing two toddlers with what’s left of my “free” hand, all while another child calls for me from across the house. Our dog is barking, someone’s knocking on the door, the phone is ringing, and the smoke alarm is going off from my latest cooking endeavor. You might read about families like ours in books or see them in movies, but that’s us in real life.
Our bed is way too small for the whole family, and nobody likes sleeping in their own space. Snack time seems to stretch on all day long. When we visit someone’s home, you’d think we hadn’t fed our kids in weeks. With ages ranging from six and under, I can only imagine the chaos that awaits when they become teenagers.
And you know what? I’m not ashamed to admit that I look forward to our pizza night every Friday or that I prefer paper plates over any fancy dishware we own. We work hard, play hard, and argue hard, but our love for each other is even stronger.
Yes, we’re that family—the wonderfully chaotic one I’ve dreamed of for much of my life. And honestly? I wouldn’t want it any other way. We’ve embraced the craziness and the delightful madness that comes with being a family. So, the next time you catch yourself rolling your eyes or overhear whispers about how “abnormal” your family is, just remember: you’re probably doing something right.
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In summary, we’re the noisy, bustling family you might see in the grocery store or at the park, embracing the chaos and loving every minute of it.