Updated: June 3, 2023
Originally Published: June 14, 2021
The last time the kids had a break from school, I was also around, and on the very first day, I blinked and suddenly found myself hosting six kids in my home. Just to clarify, I only have two!
I took a moment to assess the situation, weighed my options, and realized there was only one logical response: Bake cookies. And so I did. From that point on, kids kept arriving all week long.
Growing up, my own house was similar, though the influx of friends didn’t really kick in until my teen years. There were four of us siblings, and our home was always the go-to place, not because we had a stocked pantry or an overly attentive mom. My mom was juggling a full-time job, classes, and trying to maintain some sort of social life. Yet, she was incredibly easy to be around during our teenage years, tolerating the flow of friends coming in and out, whether they were hanging with my older brother in the basement or gathering around our living room table for late-night card games—mostly poker but also euchre.
Our house back then, like mine today, was a bit chaotic. With four teens in the 80s, cleanliness was far from a priority. My mom would come home after a long day, look around in dismay, and simply lack the energy to tidy up. I totally understand her now, having experienced the exhaustion of working all day and then facing a house that looks like a tornado hit it.
Though my kids are still young, they leave their belongings everywhere—Legos underfoot, socks flying around, and toys scattered everywhere. Every night, we spend ten minutes searching for the TV remote among the couch cushions, only to uncover an astonishing collection of lost items.
But it’s not just clutter that fills our home; it’s also filled with laughter and kids. It took me a while to realize that I was continuing a family tradition. My mom was clever to welcome all those teens. Even during our rebellious phases, she understood the importance of knowing where we were—home. Her laid-back nature made her approachable; our friends liked her and often called her by her first name, a practice I’ve adopted. She was open-minded and didn’t shy away from discussing any topic, which was a refreshing change compared to many of our friends’ parents.
Looking back, I see things I might do differently. My dad, in his second round of parenting, pointed out the differences in allowing your own kid to have a drink at 18 compared to letting others do so; you can’t dictate how other parents raise their kids. I get that now, but at the time, I appreciated my mom’s leniency. It’s another reason why our house was so popular—it didn’t have many rules.
While we won’t be hosting any underage drinking, we maintain a pretty relaxed vibe. When the house fills with kids, they race in and out of the backyard, filling water guns and loading Nerf darts. They’re loud and comfortable enough to call us by our first names, always popping their heads in to say hi, which I take as a compliment. Just the other day, one of my son’s friends showed up unannounced and asked, “Can I just hang out with you?” Who could say no to that?
So, it seems our home is destined to be the hangout spot. It’s tiring and adds to the chaos, and all the oatmeal cookies I baked on Tuesday vanished by Wednesday. I’m too busy to whip up another batch today. But we know where our kids are, and we’re familiar with their friends. I can only hope that when they reach their teenage years, they’ll continue to want to hang out with us.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the author’s experience of hosting kids in their home, reminiscent of their own upbringing. It touches on the importance of maintaining an open and welcoming atmosphere for children, the chaos that comes with it, and the joy of knowing where your kids are and who they are with.