After 11 Siblings, I shouldn’t have been surprised that there would be a Sibling 12.
I was.
In fact, I was so surprised I went into labor.
No joke.
6 hours after I was told about the upcoming Sibling 12…
My kid#1 was born.
I was shocked.
Stupid me. Nothing this family does should shock me.
Our family church-hopped quite a bit growing up. Here’s a listing of some of the really off-the-wall congregations we were part of for different lengths of time:
1) Cults-R-Us. Yep, the government considers it one. It had really crazy rules, expected everyone to give most of their paychecks to support it, and believed caffeine was a stimulant that needed to be avoided, along with fast food and pastuerized milk. Oh, and you couldn’t tell “outsiders” what happened within the church.
2) Adoption-central. They didn’t call themselves that, but it would be a fitting name. It was generally understood that you could only be a “real” part of this church if you had adopted. Anyone else was a second-rate Christian. Our family got by this rule because we already had so many kids 🙂
3) Hat-head. Once again, not actually what they called themselves. But women sat on one side of the church, wearing head coverings, and couldn’t be involved in any part of the service in any way. Women were mute. I don’t think this church liked me very much…
4) Sex-on-the-mind. These people were so concerned about people thinking about sexual things, that even the little kids’ Sunday School hours were separated by gender. I mean, really? Do you really think that my first-grade mind was thinking of doing THAT with the little boy a few rows forward in church? That’s just wrong!
5) Warriors Against Satan. Every sermon, bible study, and conversation with this church eventually became a dire warning against allowing Satan a place to enter into your life. Beware! Be on alert! Don’t let him in!
Because that’s exactly what my plan was in the first place. I was right on the verge of saying “oh, Satan…? Would you pretty, pretty please come into my life and destroy absolutely everything you possibly can. I would be most grateful.” It’s such a good thing you warned me not to do that! Whew! That was close.
Serious Note: This post is not meant to be offensive to Christians. Sibling 1 and I are both Christians, and attend churches in our home areas. But the religious history is part of our family story, and there really are some pretty weird and creepy churches out there. That’s just the truth. Hopefully you don’t belong to one.
what the ****???
according to the phone call from the madre of the family (why I still answer, I don’t know)
someone wanted into her basement.
and tried to break a window.
they wanted in.
badly.
obviously they are desperate.
or not sane.
or…okay, those are the only 2 options.
cause most of us are leaving as fast and furious as we can.
someone else wants in???
and they are willing to use force to do so.
are there pigs flying?? there must be.
So, based on earlier posts, you should have gotten the general idea that our family held some…interesting…religious beliefs. One of those had to do with luck, magic, and really pretty much anything else “whimsical”. They were forbidden. No exceptions.
Harry Potter was from the devil.
Snow White, Cinderella, and the Swan Princess were only slightly less evil.
Wishing someone “Good Luck” was considered just as bad a throwing the F-word around.
And Lucky Charms could never enter the house. They might corrupt our innocent young minds. Those devious little marsmallows, looking all sunny and delicious! What trickery!
I watch all the Harry Potter movies at least once a year now. Mwa-ha-ha (that’s my evil, rebellious laugh if you can’t tell).
All this talk about Geo’s has me remembering pre-Geo…
the cargo van.
It was gray.
and old.
without seats.
and bad tires.
and we all rode in it.
without belts.
in winter.
in fact…
Sibling #1 learned how to drive in it.
in winter.
sigh.
Did any of you ever have one of those teeny, tiny little Geo Metros? The little two doors that almost had a back seat, but didn’t really have a trunk?
We had one. It was a weirdly bright green. After it got really old, Sibling 1 drove it for work. I’m not sure if the tires were ever changed in the 8 or 9 years we had it.
Anyway…occasionally we would pile all 11 of us kids into that little Geo and drive somewhere fun. Like the park. Or an ice rink. We all fit somehow. Don’t ask.
I actually kinda miss cars that tiny. I guess there’s the Coopers, but those are way too classy for me. Are there any cars out right now as tiny as the Geo Metro?
Oatmeal isn’t generally something you are too excited about as a child. That’s true.
But, as children we had a greater aversion to the stuff then most.
With good reason.
My mom would make oatmeal like this…
1. put water in a pot on the stove.
2. dump an amount into the water that may or may not be boiling (that part was just secondary. the boiling. Oh, and the amount too. That was just guessing.)
3. leave it for a while on the stove. stirring?? what’s that??
4. come back when you realize you forgot it.
5. tell everyone to eat. ignore them when they complain that it’s one big lump. that’s life.
Truly…oatmeal was a giant ball of uncooked mess. Or a soupy mess. One or the other.
We all still hate oatmeal as children. I don’t understand you all with your “oatmeal is good for you”.
Hello..oatmeal is death!
Our mother often tried to hide things from us growing up. We don’t know why she thought that would work; I mean, there’s eleven of us! Surely SOMEONE would be able to locate the hidden stashes. And we always did (although I don’t know if she ever realized that). The most popular things she would stash:
1) M&Ms: Our mother is a sucker for M&Ms. I don’t blame her, who isn’t? But she would hide bags of them in her underwear drawer. I think this is a reasonable hiding location–it takes a lot of courage to dig around in there–but she often made the mistake of letting us know when she had a fresh supply. Her favorite thing to do while watching TV is to put a bag of M&Ms in the cushions next to her and “sneak” a few every so often.
She actually believed she was being stealthy…
But it’s kinda easy to figure out what’s going on when she’s chewing on something and every so often reaches into the cushions. And refuses to let you see what’s in the cushions.
2) Romance Novels: And not the “I’m-mostly-a-mystery-or-drama-or-chick-flick-but-have-a-few-overly-explicit-scenes” kind of romance novels. Oh, no. She has a constant stash of the bodice rippers. The ones with the sweaty, shirtless men on the covers dipping a sultry woman wearing a little silky slip. Those ones. I don’t even want to speculate about why she has that addiction. Yucky. She also hides these in her underwear drawer; that makes more sense to me than the M&Ms.
3) Anything needed to make the TV work. Yes, this one’s a bit more obscure. I don’t completely understand it, but whenever she isn’t going to be around to enjoy whatever’s being shown on TV, she tries very hard to make sure no one else can watch TV. Maybe she’s afraid of missing out. Or thinks we’ll watch porn. Or thinks of the TV as her “special someone” and doesn’t appreciate sharing. Whatever her reasons, she tries to very subtly hide a chord, remote, or something similar before she leaves the house. When she gets back she acts suprised that the TV wasn’t working. She stashes her TV stuff in her underwear drawer, or sometimes in the blankets.
Clothes can be expensive when you are buying for 13 people. To cut costs, we usually did the whole hand-me-down thing. And a sibling sews.
But one time our mother tried her hand at it. She decided to make shorts for all the boys. She chose some really hideous large print in a scratchy fabric, got an easy (and ugly) drawstring pattern, and set to work.
A few straight sewing lines later, and several hours, she proudly displayed her final product.
The lines were actually suprisingly straight, but she’d sewn the crotch on the outside. She refused to admit it, and made one of the boys try the shorts on. Of course, he was incredibly uncomfortable.
I really don’t remember whether he was forced to keep wearing them or not. Fortunately for all of us, she decided sewing took too much time and never tried again.
Whew! Potential disaster averted!
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized most children don’t have code phrases they use when describing their parents, especially as teenagers. I guess it might be a little weird…
But our code phrases saved our butts more than a few times growing up.
The most useful phrase (usually shouted) : THE PASTA’S IN THE PAN!!! THE PASTA’S IN THE PAN!!!
Our mother = the pasta
Our house = the pan
Yep, whenever one of us heard our mom pulling into the driveway (it was long), we would yell this phrase out repeatedly at the top of our lungs. Once or twice our mom heard part of the code, but she had no idea what it meant. But we did; it meant stop what you are doing and go pretend you’ve been spending the last four hours being productive.
Did you ever have codes growing up? Maybe for teachers, or other people you didn’t like so much?
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