Its just. Tough.

I don't really consider 6 kids to be a big family. Some do. I don't. Not really. Not when I know several families through adoption and/or DS communities that have 10+.

On a side note, its ironic to me that the Duggars with their 19 kids (and counting) on TLC are so popular but the average child(ren) per household is what? 1.2? Hm.

Anyway, I have people tell me all the time "I don't know how you do it." Which strikes me kind of funny because I look at families with 13 children and think, "I don't know how they do it."

But really, I just think the Lord gives you the grace for the family that He's given you. Sometimes its equally as hard with one as it is with six.

Case in point. Last night Jake had a couple of friends over and offered to feed the kids and put them to bed so I could get out of the house. (Yes, I told you before- I married superman.) But with Kate still nursing, its a given that she goes where I go. And where I went was out to dinner with my mom.

We went to Wild Ginger. It was the first time I'd eaten there and the filet mignon sushi rocked my socks off, if you must know. So there we are, my mom, Kate and I at this nice restaurant. My sweet little baby girl all snuggly in her carrier, suddenly makes a horrific face, followed by a horrific smell. Great.

Then I scoop her up, and go to grab one diaper and the wipes out of my bag (so as not to lug the whole, big, unnecessary bag across the restaurant). Diaper? Check. And as I fish around for the wipes I have this flashback- like in a movie- of myself yelling out to one of the kids, "Grab me some wipes, please!" The voice calls back, "Where mom?" "The diaper bag!" <--- fatal mistake. Sooo... no wipes in the bag. Great. But I think, its okay, I'll wet some papertowels and make it work.

So I head off to the restroom. To which I find no changing station. Are you kidding me??? Now, sometimes I just change my babies on my lap. But this is a full on, new born poop explosion. The creating-a-yellow-circle-stain-in-the-middle-of-the-back-of-her-onsie kind. The can't-pull-the-onsie-off-over-her-head-because-it-would-get-in-her-hair kind. Ok, you get the point.

I took Kate back out to the table (growing yellow circle on the back and all) and hand her to my mom. Then I went back to the bathroom, wet several papertowels, and shoved them into a plastic ziploc baggy I happened to have in my bag. Meanwhile cute 20-something girls in skinny jeans and stilettos are touching up their lipstick in the mirror and looking at me like... well, the weirdo that I was, shoving wet papertowels into a ziploc bag.

My only option was to take her out to the car to change her. But don't think it didn't cross my mind to just change her right there on their booth for all the world to see. Maybe then they'll put a changing station in the restroom, I thought.

Anyway, I did the best I could, came back in and carried on with dinner. We lived. But the point of all of this is to say- that little adventure was with one baby. Not six kids. And it occurred to me that craziness doesn't come from the multitude, it comes from parenthood. PERIOD. The multitude just multiplies it. ;)

So you moms out there with 1 little one or 20. Keep on keepin' on. We're all in this together.