Oh, what to do...

My sister came to visit with her two children and it was such a delight... It also hurled me into reality. I have always adored children, even when I was one, and planned on having dozens. As a young child I can remember wanting to give my future kids lofty and ridiculous names like walnut and butterscotch; I was going to live in a compound where I could be barefoot and pregnant and not be scoffed at. As I sat with my sister, with her children suckling and crawling all over her, I was moved to continue my plans of someday getting married and multiplying...that was the first day. After my other newhew and niece joined in, the house was literally turned upside down. From peals of laughter, to peeling off dirty pullups, to slipping on banana peels like a cartoon character. Waking up before God intended, attempting to make square meals and knowing if there is one crystal of sugar more than their bodies can tolerate, you will hate yourself for the rest of the day. As I wiped tears and butts I realized If I had four kids, this is what it would be like...I was horrified. I have taken care of children for as long as I can remember but they were always returned to their rightful owners; these wonderful bits of love stayed with me...for weeks. I was salty with myself thinking how naive I had been. Not everyone is cut out for a lot of kids...I thought. But now what do I do. My plan A: Marrying a respectfully wealthy man and raising our 12 children in an old antebellum house with low door handles and a skeleton key might now be out of the picture ( You don't even want to hear my plan B). I mulled it over in my head and nearly hyperventilated when I considered having only two or three. Toward the end of her visit she and I sat on the back porch listening to the cicadas high pitched moan and watched the lightening bugs do their lightening bug things... I looked at my sister nursing her son as he wiggled and gurgled, I smiled at my neices and nephew through the windows laughing and playing with my other sister. I was reminded of that old saying that it takes a village to raise a child. I hate cliched sayings but it couldn't have rang more true for me than it did at that moment. At first, I was overwhelmed thinking that I was unable to do something that I had planned and wanted my entire life; I realized that I am never alone. I have God and my family to see me through. I was reassured by the quiet night we spent talking about our futures and playing with the kids. She calmed me by saying that the supposed boundless energy she seemed to posess comes with time, and though it's tough, being around people who love you, and quiet times like this make it all worthwhile. Hey, maybe it isn't so bad...Don't get me wrong, I grew a couple of more hairs on my chest from the experience but instead of ripping them out, falling to my knees and screaming "Why hath thou forsaken me, Lord Jesus!" I've decided to braid the hair and put little bows on them...