Dear friendly faces at Costco,
I know you saw us as we maneuvered our large van into the bustling parking lot. You likely marveled at how we somehow squeezed our stylish 15-passenger van between a sleek Miata and a compact Smart Car. You watched us attempt to unload our family with as much grace and organization as possible, which resulted in a chaotic 23-minute trek toward Costco, accompanied by our seven little ones and three overflowing shopping carts for our weekly grocery run.
I can only imagine your thoughts as you observed one child wearing mismatched shoes—an open-toed sandal on one foot and a duct-taped rubber boot on the other. You also noticed another child donning pajama pants that were three sizes too small, paired with a well-loved Thomas the Train shirt, all because he insists on dressing with his eyes closed.
At this point, I’ve surrendered to the chaos.
Our toddler was dressed for a luxurious day at sea, while another was ready for a ski trip. And let’s not forget the child in the cart, who was crying not because he despises Costco, but because we have a strict no-naked shopping policy.
You watched our lively crew with a mix of horror and amusement. “Why on earth do they have SEVEN children?” you may have wondered. But let’s take a moment to consider that seven really isn’t an extraordinary number. If I had told you I owned seven goldfish, you’d likely inquire about my other pets. Seven pairs of shoes? You’d probably shrug. Seven dollars? You might think my finances needed help. Yet, the realization that I have seven children seemed to spark the same shock as if I’d suggested you wrestle a bald eagle and eat it with your feet.
Once we made it past the Costco entrance, we navigated through the throngs of shoppers, eager to fill our carts and sample every food offering available. It must have been shocking to see our lanky teenager in frayed shorts and a Seahawks jersey devour 14 paper samples of beef Wellington in mere moments. He’s the reason we keep returning to Costco. In fact, he’s the reason we upgraded to the EXECUTIVE Membership after a cashier remarked, “Mrs. Thompson, our records show you spend more than the average family.” At home, we affectionately refer to him as The Very Hungry Teenager. This kid can eat a full meal only to follow it with 2 sandwiches, 3 carrots, a slice of watermelon, 4 mini bagels with cream cheese, a bowl of cereal topped with a fried egg, 6 pickles, and a cookie—all while asking, “Are you going to finish that?”
So you see, we are practically tethered to Costco like a rock is to gravity. We’ve become quite adept at observing the reactions of fellow shoppers pushing their carts filled with frozen burritos, cheese puffs, giant jars of mayonnaise, candy bars, and diet supplements.
Since discussing my family size with complete strangers in the cheese aisle is one of my favorite pastimes, I’m more than happy to address your curious inquiries. In fact, I’ve compiled a handy list for you to refer to in case we cross paths again, and so others can be prepared for our delightful chaos. Here we go:
- Q: Cute baby. Is she your last?
A: This year, yes. - Q: Why do you have so many kids?
A: Because it boosts our chances of a good nursing home. - Q: Do all of your kids share the same dad?
A: Uh… for now, yes. - Q: What’s your monthly food budget like?
A: How much is your mortgage? - Q: How will you pay for their college education?
A: Bless your heart for assuming my kids would be accepted anywhere other than a circus! - Q: Is it noisy at your house?
A: Didn’t catch that. What did you say? - Q: Are you trying to be like that family on TV with nineteen kids?
A: Oh, absolutely—because seven is just so close to nineteen! - Q: Why is that child taking off his clothes?
A: Don’t worry. He’ll stop when he realizes we’re buying mustard.
I hope that satisfies your curiosity.
Reflecting on our escapades, I’m sure you’ve mentally blocked out the pandemonium that unfolded in the checkout line, which involved a twirling sister, a sprawling brother, runaway oranges, a dramatic Flop Tantrum, and a flying churro. After gaining the nod of approval from St. Peter (the guardian of receipts), we made our way back to the van and headed home, much to your silent relief.
Now, here I am, sipping coffee and reminiscing about yet another eventful trip to Costco, which I eagerly await each week.
You’re always welcome to join us on our next shopping adventure. We love meeting new friends! Just be prepared to push a cart—though you’ll have to promise to dress appropriately, which means rocking an outfit fit for a yacht, a slumber party, or a ski resort.
If you’re interested in more about family planning and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on infertility at Womens Health. For those looking for a comprehensive home insemination kit, visit Make a Mom. And for more insights into this journey, click here for our post on home insemination kits.
In summary, navigating Costco with a large family is a delightful mix of chaos and joy. We embrace the curious stares and questions while enjoying the weekly adventure of shopping together.