“I don’t know how you do it.”
This is how my brother and countless other people respond to me when I tell them anything that I do. Sometimes I wonder what they envision I should be doing instead that I wouldn’t have time for the thing that I am telling them. It is about as funny a statement as, “Wow; you look good for having 14 kids.” In the back of my mind, I wonder what it is that I should look like with 14 kids. OR…I think I must admit I love the combo of the two statements… “I don’t know how you do it. You look so good. I have two kids, and I want to rip my eyeballs out.” I kid you not; my friendly neighborhood bank teller said those exact words to me. All I could say was, “I’m sorry.” WOW.
Well, after my brother left this weekend, I thought I would give him a little picture of how I do it even though you can never truly know how anyone does anything unless you are that very person. You can only know what you are told, and even that is left to interpretation.
Yesterday was the church picnic. I hear the same old man ask me what time I have to start getting everyone ready in the morning to get them all to Church by nine having to drive an hour to get there. I just tell him, “I started yesterday” and smile. Another older man approaches me and asks, “How many kids do you have again? I was telling my buddy 14. Was that right?” It is ok. I don’t mind. I enjoy talking about them, taking them all to the grocery, having them all with me at picnics and it doesn’t bother me a bit when people stare and count. I just tell my husband at least they aren’t staring because they are all obnoxious and disobedient. Anyway, I am telling you this because yesterday, which actually started on Saturday evening when I finished my sewing job and did all the shopping then came home and cooked to have a very late dinner, then baths, and packing for a picnic and making the German potato salad to bring along, tired me out a little. Soooo….I started today about three hours later than I normally would have.
Today, I got up at 6:10ish.
When my feet hit the floor, I am on duty. It is not a joke or a figure of speech. If I don’t put my glasses on before I get out of bed, I have to wait until about five other things are done to get a chance to go back and get them. The baby is in the crib and hears me breathe differently because I am in motion, and she pops up raring to go. I dress, gather everything I will need with me for the next five hours (until she lays back down for her nap), and I leave the bedroom. I put the baby in the playpen, hit the can and then change the baby and get her a bottle. She is good. I make coffee, clean up the counters after the bigs have had their midnight snacks or whatever they do in my kitchen while I sleep then look at the board of ferments and food work that has to be done. This morning it was burping the five jars of pickles fermenting on the shelf cleaning what they burped up and out, strain and change the milk kefir, strain and change the water kefir, and soak the pickle cucumbers in cold water for pickling. Coffee was done so I fixed a cup for myself, took a little break and had some, then had to make a lunch for my husband.
My oldest daughter was getting ready for work, and she is not exactly a morning person. Needless to say, mornings are bad even if they are good. Tread lightly and carry a big stick in this crowd. I feel her out, say good morning and ask how she is. She responds, “I opened my yogurt, and it sprayed all over me.” My response, “It happens.” Meet and greet over. Onto the rest of my day.
After I say goodbye to the worker bees, it is seven something. The littles are beginning to wake up, and it is getting a little bit louder than it had been. I look at all the kefir I just strained and decided to make a full blender of smoothies for the littles to give them a boost of healthy after playing in the nasty bouncy house breeding ground all afternoon yesterday. The baby loves the kefir with blueberries and honey, so that is what they got. I brought the trays of frozen berries and melon up from the basement freezer and got on the smoothies. I poured the four littles a cup full and gave the girls some of my soaked and dehydrated oatmeal/granola for breakfast. My youngest son (who insists he needs to grow “Abs”) asks for three hard boiled eggs with his smoothie. I peel eggs, toast some toast and everyone that is awake is fed. I remind to brush, wash and change for the day then onto laundry.
I attempt to go for my laundry, and I am sidetracked by more people. “We are out of goat food.” “Can I not have the kitchen for chores today?” “Is there a chance I can get to the library today?” “Were you planning on going to the dollar store today and can I go with you?” WOW. Everyone has their own idea of how the day is going to go and in reality, it can only go one way. Now is the time to decide which way it is going to go. I tell the older kids to get something to eat, get ready for the day and get on their chores. I assign one chore per child every day, and they have that chore for the entire day. I tell them that I will make one trip, and it will only be after I get the eggplant breaded and baked for the eggplant parmesan I needed to have in the freezer by day’s end. While I was in between batches of eggplant I was able to start my laundry, get myself ready for the day and get the pickles in the jar and brined for pickling. I put all the baked eggplant in a pan, covered it, broke up a few tiffs, listened to a few more questions and complaints from the peanut gallery then left the house at around 10:15.
My son and I went to the bank, the dollar store to replace my hairbrush nobody used and nobody lost and nobody even knew I had (all children’s first names are ‘Nobody’) then to Walmart. After that, we hit the feed store, Marcs to get his allergy medicine (because it is a ripoff at Walmart) and the library. I sat in the parking lot waiting for my son and made the call for my daughter’s x-ray while she was at work and then let her know what was going on. Son was back, and we were on the road to hit the roadside produce stands of the local farmers. I found pickles, two huge heads of cabbage, a boatload of peppers and more eggplant. We needed to go to another town to get spices and bulk foods from an Amish store, so that was another hour. Now I had everything I needed to make my ferments. We headed home.
It is about 1:00. 
I walked in, changed my clothes, assessed the chores, got on those who weren’t finished and went to the garden with the boys. We went through and picked the cabbages and tomatoes that were ready. I got them going there and went in to get back into the food prep I had started before I left. I made the sauce and assembled the eggplant parmesan for Friday’s dinner. Got that in the basement freezer. Next, I cleaned and pickled cucumbers and red onions after cleaning jars and lids and making brine. Switched the loads and stuck leftover fried chicken and sausage with sauerkraut from the picnic in the oven with the German potato salad (I FORGOT TO TAKE TO CHURCH) to heat for dinner. I finished the onions, cleaned tomatoes from the garden to go with dinner and my husband and daughter are home from work.
It is 5:00.
I serve dinner to everyone and love seeing my 18-month old scarf the sour German potato salad. I looked through all the fridges for my lemon kefir and blamed my 12-year old son for drinking it all only to find it hiding…oops…my boys are very forgiving when their mom appears a little whack. 😉 I make it through all the “Can I only have chicken?” and “Do I need to have tomatoes?” and “I don’t really want that potato stuff” so I can finally sit down and eat supper…NOT! “Hey, Mom is that Grandpa’s dinner sitting back there because he is asking and I don’t know if you fixed his plate or not…” …so sometimes I forget that people need to be called to the table… After I get Grandpa settled with his dinner, I sit down to mine.
It is six something…like it really matters at this time of the day.
I take the laundry and the baby and go back to my room to fold and put away. Change the baby, quiet the littles and have some computer time. A few or twenty-five interruptions later, it is bedtime. And here I am.
This was a very uneventful day in retrospect. No emergencies or catastrophes. We ask God for these kinds of days, and when it is over, we say, “Thank you, God.”
I don’t know how I do it, I just do.