Proud

I went to Fred Meyer today, to grocery shop.

I told Kate and Julia and Charlie that they could stay home if they wanted and watch t.v.

They enthusiastically said yes and I took the youngest 3 with me.

As we shopped the aisles, I was frequently heard saying "Come on!, get over here!, I said now!"
All to Henry.

Normally he is in the cart, but when we arrived all the neat little carts that looked like cars, that hold two children, were taken.

I almost left right then and there.

But I didn't, I had shopping to do, dag nab it!

As I perused the goods, more than one person smiled at me sympathetically or said "Boy, you have 3! You have your hands full."

Which I did, but I refrained from mentioning the other 3 at home.

Finally, as we checked out, the kind woman working the register chatted with me about how we make our kids happy in the store, bribery, treats, that kind of thing.

She said to me"well, whatever you have to do to make it less stressful, I mean, you have 3!"

I occasionally try to refrain, like I said, but this time I let her know "well, these are just my younger 3, the older 3 are at home."

Now all of her exclamations of amazement and how young I look (thank you, thank you, thank you for making my day) got my little mind to thinking about how amazing it is.

Yes, there are days that I want to tear my hair out, where I feel that I will collapse from exhaustion or go crazy from being so overwhelmed, but when it comes right down to it, I am proud.

I am proud that I have 6 loverly children.
I am proud that my body housed, birthed, and recovered (sort of) from baring 6 children.
I am proud of the looks, both nice and nasty, that I get when we go out with all 6 of them.
I am proud that I don't care about the nasty looks.
I am proud that my house is chaotic, a little messy most of the time, but loud with happiness, fighting occasionally, and all that goes with a happy, normal childhood.
I am proud that my children love being part of a big family and wish I would have more babies.

As we drove home from the store, all this ran through my head. And it made me so happy that I turned the music up and we had a driving dance party.

Anne Marie's little head bobbing in the back seat.

Henry's one good arm shaking and waving to the beat.

Nora's chubby little legs lifting up and down in sync with the music, big grin to match.

And I thought:

I am proud to be a mother to so many.
I am proud of my husband who makes it possible for me to stay home with them.
I am proud that we have dance parties, driving and otherwise.

I am not proud that we danced to Save a horse, Ride a Cowboy by Big and Rich.
But man, what a beat!