I Just Want You to Know Part 5

"Always tell the..."

"Truff [Truth]!"

"You get what you get, and you don't get..."

"Upset!"

While the kids were using language to start communicating who they were, Jon and I used communication to survive and to handle logistics. And I think we did pretty well with that.

The good days were really good, and as a whole we worked well together. At that point our team was stronger than ever. We had the routine down, and we both knew our own responsibilities-from our schedule at home to whenever we had to go somewhere. If we were taking a family outing, I would pack everything inside and then Jon would load the food, strollers, and everything else I had packed into the van. I would dress the kids, and Jon would do the shoes and coats.

Even so, I had a lot of stress. In public I stressed about the kids running out in a parking lot-and I always wore my emotions on my sleeve. When I felt this way, it came out in anger and frustration, and I often took it out on Jon. I also didn't focus on the fact that much of the responsibility for our children, the finances, the schedules, the decisions about the future was on me, but I felt it. So I would snap at Jon.

For the first year and half at the Elizabethtown house, I was taking care of eight little kids, with little help. Normally I was by myself all day, every day-though a friend would stop by occasionally to play with the kids, my sister Kendra would come over and watch the kids while I ran out to the grocery store, and Nana Janet still came every week. But for the most part, I was by myself and exhausted, and I often felt out of control. I constantly fought the fear of a sudden injury or accident, that I would be trapped in my home and not be able to get help, or that I couldn't do things quickly or easily.

Maybe because we were often in survival mode, Jon and I didn't always communicate in a friendly manner. We had eight kids and didn't focus enough on each other. Jon once asked me, "Kate, do you realize we have been walking on eggsh.e.l.ls for two years?" It was true. I think it was because I felt the weight of responsibility so heavily. I couldn't get sick. If I got sick, the whole camp shut down, and we didn't have time for that. A lot was riding on me, which often made me grouchy.

Even so, much of what I said to Jon was unwarranted. I could have watched what I said better, could have guarded my tongue better. And I knew it. The cameras made it obvious. So even if I didn't realize what I said at the time, it was recorded for me to watch again, and again.

I wanted to communicate better, but I often failed. I surrounded myself with 5x8 note cards with verses from the Bible about guarding your tongue: "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing" (Proverbs 12:18), and "He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity" (Proverbs 21:23). I needed reminders, since I often fell back into old patterns of communicating, which weren't very pleasant. Still, I always felt love and dedication-no matter how I was communicating. No marriage is perfect, but I was committed to ours.

My communication to the outside world also needed to change. I was thoroughly annoyed with fans, with people wanting to see our kids and touch them. At the time, I considered all fan attention unwanted and an annoyance. I just didn't think through the obvious-that if I put my kids on TV people would fall in love with them. When viewers of our show would see our kids in real life, it would inevitably be exciting for them. I didn't make the connection that having people who cared-fans-meant our show continued, and therefore our job continued. I needed the fans, but I didn't know it.

I became aware of what a spoiled brat I was being. When I started speaking and telling our story and getting out in the world alone, I had the chance to look around and see reactions and responses rather than to focus so intensely on my eight kids.

When I would speak in front of an audience and tell them our story, I felt completely supported and loved by the crowd. It was truly amazing. And during my book signings, people waited in line for an autograph, and with tears in their eyes, they told me their stories in return. I've heard many times: "Kate, you're such an inspiration to me. If you can do it with eight kids, I can do it with two." That is so encouraging to me! Suddenly, I noticed a reciprocal supportive bond had formed. I now noticed that my fans had become my inspiration just as much as I was theirs. I truly am grateful for them!

I started to consciously pay attention and appreciate the people who supported me. Thousands of emails came in, crashing our server, telling us how glad they were that we were so real on TV. And I have no choice but to be real, by the way-I'm too busy to learn lines or rehea.r.s.e.

I saw the world differently. I realized all moms are the same-we want the best for our families and want to do our best every day. I'm a mom first, like every other mom out there. I still identify with the unshowered stay-at-home mom wearing a dirty T-shirt and sweatpants with hair that sticks up. Being a mom can be very monotonous; stay-at-home moms need tons of encouragement as no one realizes how incredibly difficult each day is. On the other hand, it truly is the most fulfilling job you can ever have.

It wasn't until I realized this that my communication changed.

8.

NO GROUP THINK.

When I was pregnant with the six, I thought naively, "At least we've had twins before, so we know how to parent multiples." I couldn't have been more wrong. What you do with two, you can't do with six. My mothering had to completely change.

As every mother knows, it's important to see each child as an individual created by G.o.d. I knew that too, but with multiples, it was tempting to fall into a group mentality during their first two years. I changed all of their diapers at once, fed them the same meals at the same times, and took them to the same places together. Giving them individual treatment just wasn't doable.

When their personalities starting shining through, it wasn't possible to think of them only as a group anymore-and it started to become easier to find ways to make each child feel special for who he or she was. Their differences started to become noticeable especially when they started talking, and I could see how each of the kids is unique from any other. It is amazing to see how different each of my kids are when they all came from the same environment, same parents, same house-and are even the same age.

I began to treat them differently as they got older. I had always been strict and rigid, so it took me awhile to understand that since each child is different, we don't have to parent them the same. I needed to figure out what worked for each of them.

Other moms of multiples told us they gave certain kids permission not to nap anymore. Hearing that somehow gave me permission to parent creatively. We don't just try to be fair; we try to raise each one according to his or her own unique personalities, talents, and needs.

Sure enough, as they got older, some of the kids still needed a nap while others didn't. Cara didn't always need a nap when she was younger, so I told her to come downstairs when Mady fell asleep. Same with the little girls-Alexis always needed a nap or she'd fall asleep during dinner. Leah slept most of the time, but Hannah never did. I started telling her she could come downstairs when the other two fell asleep.

Then when Hannah and Leah started asking for a "nakin," I would let them have one at each meal. They were the only ones who did not shred or rip them. I tried to look for little things to reward each of them, so they felt like individuals.

All of the kids are so completely different that how I talk to them, discipline them, and play with them is different. With Collin I have to be firm and clear, but if I used the same voice with Aaden, he would be in tears instantly. I can treat Hannah like a seven-year-old sometimes and rationalize with her, and I can also reason with Leah; but with Alexis, I have to go over everything over and over again, since she's not as focused.

Mady and Cara have flip flopped personalities growing up; they each took turns being the dominant one. I have since learned this is normal for twins, though it has not been my experience in raising higher order multiples.

Alexis in a cozy spot.

Alexis is silly, loves making people laugh-and trouble finds her. Hannah has always acted older and worries if anyone is sick or if things aren't fair. Aaden is thoughtful. Collin is orderly yet controlling. Leah loves girly, baby things. Joel has always been easygoing.

While I can't always give each one my undivided attention every day, each child is on my radar screen at different times. When the little girls were potty training, I didn't have to think about the boys who were still in diapers; and when I trained the boys I didn't need to focus on the girls because they had already been potty trained. It was nice to not have to worry about all of them at once. When Aaden needed gla.s.ses, he was on my radar screen. And of course, when he got gla.s.ses we needed to figure out how to keep them on his face and then to keep the other five from plucking them off his face.

With eight kids, or any number really, it's hard to have time for all of them collectively, let alone individually. I have really struggled with spending enough time with each of them. I have a lot of guilt about that, but I tried to not miss the details. My guiding principle has always been that just because I have eight doesn't mean I can't try to treat them each like an only child. I realize that's setting the bar very high, but since when do I ever set mediocre goals?

Some of the kids were more independent than others, and I just let them go. Those who wanted to hang on me more or needed more attention from me knew to come find me. I just had to trust that whoever needed the extra attention would seek it out. If someone came wandering downstairs in the middle of the night, we didn't make a big deal out of it and just scooped them up into bed with us or made a little bed on the floor next to us. When they wanted to spend time with me in the kitchen, I put whoever came in up on the counter so we could talk while I made dinner.

When they were babies, it was harder to figure out which one needed me more; so the older they got, the easier it was to give them more attention. When Mady and Cara were old enough to start doing ch.o.r.es, I put together a ch.o.r.e chart, which included rewards. They could choose spending time alone with Mommy or Daddy, getting ice cream, or staying up an extra hour-all of which they loved. For them, time with a parent was the best reward.

Once I remember Cara really needed time alone with me, so I took her grocery shopping. At one point while we were shopping, she got a cart's length behind me and freaked out. She then asked me to call her name each time I was ready to leave the aisle. Even though she was right behind me, she was fearful I would turn the corner without her noticing, and she would once again become separated from me. Then after I loaded the groceries in the car, I returned the cart, and when I came back to the van, she was out of her seat huddled down on the ground. I was shocked that in ten seconds, she was that scared! I knew she had developed a fear that someone was going to take her or that I would lose her, but I didn't know how bad it was. I talked with her, telling her I would never put her in danger because she is my "prized possession. " I told her that I loved her and would always take good care of her. I also told her that though being wary is good, she was going a little over the top. I made sure to pay extra attention to her over the next few weeks, and she seemed fine from then on.

The huge struggle with multiples or kids the same age is the cla.s.sic, "It's not fair!" If I'm making a salad and give the one who's in the kitchen a crouton, they run to tell the others about it, which gets them all running in to claim their own. It's not feasible to do eight times the same thing you do for one on a whim. This reporting back to the others happened so many times that I had to tell them if they got something special in the kitchen, like a lick of icing, they weren't allowed to tell the others about it. Seems so sad, but it was necessary.

Whenever I made a cake, I dipped two additional beaters to hand out four. But because I didn't make cakes too often, it might have been another three months before I could get to the other four-and by then I wouldn't remember who hadn't yet gotten a beater. The whole situation would became a huge production, so I had to loosen the rigid rotation schedule and simply give them out to whoever was wandering through the kitchen at that time.

My motto is now "life's not fair" so hopefully they'll quit expecting me to treat them all exactly the same. Wish me luck on that!

Hannah with her dinosaur egg.

I'm often asked if we gave the little kids all the same present at holidays and birthdays. We didn't. It was never economical to buy six of the same toy. They learned how to share, and they rarely all at once wanted to play with the same item.

One holiday, though, I bought each child a dinosaur egg that hatched if you put it in water for three to four days. It felt more manageable and made the kids feel special to hatch one egg at a time. When it was Hannah's turn, we were going to the beach so we had to take the stinkin' thing with us while it hatched. And we had to "guard" it wherever we were going. It was her her dinosaur! dinosaur!

As a parent, it is fascinating to watch your child develop before your very eyes and bloom into a unique individual. This fact does not change when raising multiples; however, the struggles to be able to single them out and celebrate their differences does increase. During this time I started to identify what made each child tick and consciously tried to encourage each one's unique qualities. In fact, this is why I don't refer to our children as twins and s.e.xtuplets-they're individuals and this is how I view them. They each have their own needs, desires, and capabilities. Throughout life they are lumped into one group often enough by the outside world, so at home especially, they need to be encouraged to be confident in who they are as unique individuals.

Letter to Aaden Dear Aaden, As I sit here in the Big Blue Bus waiting for you and your brothers and sisters at the bus stop, I find myself thinking about you. You are quite an amazing little man and always have been. At a tiny 2 pounds 7.5 ounces at birth, you were the smallest of my babies. Your head was smaller than a baseball, and you had a miniscule amount of sandy blond-brown hair. You didn't have quite enough hair though to fill in the swirly of the cowlick right in the center of your hairline above your forehead. That swirly always warmed my heart and made me smile. Today, it gives you that cute little spike of hair in the front.

Although you were small, you were tough-and alert! Your incubator was on a very busy aisle. It was across from Collin and next to Hannah-although a dividing wall stood between yours and Hannah's incubators. One time I was holding you next to your busy aisle and your tiny squinty eyes followed whenever a doctor or a nurse would walk by. None of our medical team could believe how alert you were. It was so amazing to watch your little eyes following all the NICU activity.

You scared me though, Aaden! When you were two weeks old, I received a call that you were sick and that the staff caught it in time, but you slipped in your recovery. You had been doing very well and were scheduled to come home with the girls; but in the end, you and Collin came home last. The important thing is that you recovered and gained weight and were so precious! You were five pounds when you came home. Wow! Big boy!

My memories of you as a baby include you being rattled and disturbed by all of the stress and the noise in our house. You regularly cried inconsolably until you were in a dark and quiet place in the house (which was hard to find with ten family members and many helpers under one small roof) snuggled close to Mommy. Daddy would do an impression of your awareness-pursing his lips and looking around the room with your same squinty eyes. It always made us laugh!

At two, we found out you needed gla.s.ses. At first this upset me, but after you wore them for a while, I realized how extremely blessed we were that this was our only lasting effect of having six preemies-and I thanked G.o.d. You quickly grew into your new look. And the new job became keeping your gla.s.ses safely on your face. We went through many pairs and repair sessions. At over $200 a pair, it became an expensive task-but a necessary one, of course. To this day, I joke that you must think your name is "Where's your gla.s.ses?" because when you come downstairs in the morning, even after three years, you invariably forget them; and I have to remind you to go get them-to which you reply, "Oh, I get them," with your brow furrowed in your little scientific way.

As you have grown, I have enjoyed watching you develop into a quiet, thoughtful boy. You are sensitive and full of love and life. Every once in a while, something (like animals or dinosaurs) will excite you, and we see the animated, dramatic side of you-along with your brilliant smile. We all laugh with joy! It makes us want to pinch your cheeks! Your innocence is refreshing and your determination to do well is admirable.

I want you to remember an old saying, one that has guided me in life and urged me on: "Quitters never win and winners never quit." If you always remember to finish the job, do your best, and never give up, you will succeed in life. Sometimes your best does not mean receiving a first place ribbon; but if you've done your personal best, it will translate that way in my eyes-and in yours too. Just don't quit!

Over the last months and year, our family life has changed. I want you to know that regardless of our family makeup or changes, my love for you will never change. I do not possess the skills to "father" you, but I will do everything I can to show you the way. I want to help you grow into a man of integrity-one that will be respected by others due to your undying dedication to your family, your honesty, and your determination in life. You are one of three "men" in my life, Aaden, and I appreciate the protection and help you and your brothers have already shown me and your sisters. So remarkable!

My hope is that you will have a successful career, loving family, and happiness always. I pray that as you grow, you will possess knowledge and wisdom beyond your years to help you navigate all the tricky paths that will no doubt face you. One thing is for sure: I will be next to you to answer your questions and guide you. Please come to me with anything-but especially concerns and issues that you face. Life will not be easy, but it is manageable and enjoyable if you always choose to see the bright side of life and ask advice from trusted family and friends when you need it. I love you, my oldest son, with all of my heart. This will never change!

Love forever and always, no matter what, Mommy

9.

MILESTONES.

A lot of firsts occurred in the Elizabethtown house, and many of them had to do with the kids learning to be independent and growing up. Whether it was potty training or sending the girls off to school, my job was to help them take on the world outside of our home. They were learning to help around the house to contribute to the family. Sometimes the results of their independence were hilarious as they learned to do things on their own. Sometimes they were bittersweet. And sometimes they were downright right messy! While I couldn't wait for their independence and did all I could to encourage it, sometimes it was still hard to see them letting go.

From my perspective, home is a model of the world. It's the testing ground before releasing children to be on their own someday. We need to keep sight of these long-term goals, and two years old is not too early to start.

We organized the bas.e.m.e.nt in such a way that all the kids could help clean up their toys. We made sure they could also follow simple instructions: Can you take this to the laundry room? Can you throw the diapers out? They also had to learn early how to respect each others' property. Their beds were their only personal s.p.a.ce, so they were not allowed to touch anyone else's things that were in their respective beds. Their other toys were shared.

I enjoyed the milestones of them getting older. Each milestone meant one less thing we needed to do eight times. Put on your shoes and Velcro them. Put on your jacket. Make your bed. Pick up your toys. Clean up your own mess. It's not that I minded doing things for them; it's just that it was easier when they could do some themselves.

Because Mady and Cara were the big sisters, they learned to help care for the younger ones at an early age. They were helpful and kind, from helping put groceries away to handing out juice cups. They taught themselves how to read at the age of four, and now have an entire cla.s.s to play with-and absolutely love being the teachers. They love to pa.s.s out spelling tests, grade them, and provide report cards.

One of the first times I started realizing our kids were growing up was when we attended the NICU reunion at the Milton S. Hersey Medical Center, which they hold every other year. I was looking forward to it. The day itself was stressful because I was supposed to work in the afternoon-though thankfully a colleague covered my first shift so I could attend. Six two-year-olds and two six-year-olds were hard enough to handle in an open public area, but we were also filming the reunion for our show, which added to the mix. It was great to see the doctors and nurses who took care of us during my pregnancy and their birth.

What I never realized before was how much joy it brings the medical staff to see the kids they took care of as tiny babies. Once babies are healthy, they leave the NICU, and those who were so important to their survival and health may never see them again. I enjoyed seeing how happy these doctors and nurses were seeing their patients again. They have a difficult, stressful job. It was very satisfying to celebrate this milestone with them and to remember how far we've come.

Birthdays in our house are huge events as we celebrated their growing up together. On October 22, 2006, we threw Cara and Mady a surprise sixth birthday party. We set up a pizza parlor in the garage, so the girls and their friends could make their own pizzas, and we even had a pizza cake. They were surprised and loved their party. Cara said it was better than she could have hoped for. Mady said, "Mom, you're the best!" That's the best thing a mom can hear from her growing kids.

It's a pizza (birthday) party!

Many may remember the little kids' third birthday carnival. It was an infamous episode on our show and was one of my favorite birthday parties to date. The games, decorations, vivid primary colors, activities (remember the pony rides?), and the guests together made for the perfect party to celebrate six perfect lives. I have always felt it necessary and very warranted to host one humongous bash because after all, we were partying times six.

Collin and Alexis eating cotton candy at their third birthday carnival.

Turning a year older meant school was just around the corner. The night before the girls' first day in kindergarten, we had their outfits picked out and had a quick shoe-tying lesson. When the girls woke up the next morning, they wanted to know "how much hours" until school. They were so excited. After lunch, Janet came over, and the girls went out to the garage to put their sneakers on. When I came out to join them a few minutes later, Cara's shoes were tied! She had tied them after only one lesson. She had grown up so much in only one day-she started kindergarten and learned to tie her shoes.

When I pulled up to the school, Cara barely hugged me and hopped out. Mady lingered a bit and hugged long before running off.

When it was time for them to come home, Janet helped get the six up from their nap, and we all hustled out to the porch to see the girls get off the yellow bus. They were all excited to see their big sisters on their big day. I taped the bus coming into the neighborhood and ran to the stop to see them getting off. I snapped pictures and kept saying, "You only get this chance once!" I'm sure the other moms all thought I was nuts.

When Jon came home, the girls got a kick out of him saying, "h.e.l.lo, my kindergarteners." The girls loved school and were so proud to be "big school kids."

The girls starting school meant potty training for the little kids. Potty training is one of the more challenging aspects for parents. My mantra has always been that if I'm changing a diaper and their toes. .h.i.t my nose, they need to be potty trained. It's plain ridiculous to be inadvertently kicked in the face when changing diapers.

When the little girls were ready, I started potty training them before worrying about the boys. This is already a messy time between accidents and purposely pouring the potties on the floor, that I didn't need to keep track of six at a time. Three was enough.

When one of the girls p.o.o.ped in the potty, I took a picture of her next to the potty so she could show Daddy when he got home. After about a month the three girls started wearing big girl underwear-or "unna wears," as Leah called them.

Little Leah "reading" a magazine on the potty.

One Sunday in the middle of potty training, we picked up the kids after church, and the teacher was telling me that Hannah p.o.o.ped in her Pull-Up and that he changed her. I couldn't hear him over the hallway commotion. As we were all walking down the hall together, Hannah said, "Mommy, I told Jesus that I had to go potty." Jon and I both laughed hard.

Later in the car we started laughing again about it, and Jon asked, "Hannah, what is your teacher's name?"

She replied, "Jesus."

Mystery solved.

Then came the boys, which definitely did not go as smoothly. They were always more focused on playing in the moment than on planning for the future. I am always amazed that the girls were potty trained a full six months before the boys. Even so, they were all growing up, regardless of whether or not they chose to be potty trained.

One Sunday, I was sitting on the sofa in the playroom with everybody. Hannah climbed up next to me, and I asked her if she would sit on my lap.

She said, "No, I wanna sit."

"But you are my baby, and I want to hold you."

"I not a baby. I girl."

I almost cried. These are the youngest kids I'll ever have. They are two, and they sometimes don't want to sit on my lap anymore. But I suppose this is all a part of the mixed emotions I'll experience at each of their milestones.

10.

BLOOD, BAND AIDS, AND BATHS IN THE KITCHEN SINK.

One phone call, one sick child, one exhausted mom. Any one of these could throw off an otherwise good day. While at the time I couldn't always laugh in the moment, I've learned the importance of keeping a healthy perspective and remembering to laugh later. One of my most memorable bad days happened one summer in 2006.

In July our church had a Vacation Bible School (VBS) program in the evenings for a week. Jon had to come home from work early, and the plan was that I would have the kids ready to go so we could all just hop into the van to make it to church on time. While the little kids were taking a nap on that Monday afternoon, I was making dinner and getting ready to go that night. When it was time to get them from their nap, I headed upstairs and opened their bedroom door.

"OH! OH MY!" There were shards of gla.s.s everywhere, and the kids were walking all around them. For a split second, I thought a burglar had broken in, but I quickly realized they had gotten into a locked bin that held diapers and lotions, and had smeared b.u.t.t paste all over the room. "Let me check your feet," I frantically said. The broken gla.s.s around the room was my main concern.

The aftermath of the nursery destruction.

I picked each kid up and brought them one by one to the bathroom to clean them up. But what was that sticky stuff everywhere? "Where are your diapers? Is that p.o.o.p on-?"