I Just Want You to Know Part 2

"Nope, it's not supposed to rain," said Jon as he removed the front wheel of the stroller so he could fit it into the back of the bus.

The last thing we packed before leaving was the comfort bag. Each child used a different stuffed animal or blanket to help them fall asleep. Alexis had her pink blankie. Leah and Aaden had their chewies-burp cloths they had become attached to. Joel had a stuffed dog with a colorful sweater that he named Doggy Man. Collin had Ducky or Bear ("Bay-uh"), a stuffed animal/blanket combination, and Hannah had one of two stuffed toys, either Bunny or Kitty-Cat. We packed them all in a blue nylon Enfamil bag and took it wherever we went.

Packing that bag seems simple, but it wasn't. Since they slept with their comfort items, we couldn't pack them until right before we left. If I set the bag down, the kids would find their comfort item, take it out, and I wouldn't notice until it was too late.

As Jon put the kids in the car, I counted the comfort items one last time to make sure they were all there. I wasn't going to let anything ruin this trip.

Heading down the highway, I could see it was still overcast. "You're sure it's not supposed to rain?" I asked Jon again.

"Nope, they said it was not going to rain."

I wanted to believe him, but forty miles into the drive, the sky darkened ominously.

"Tell me it is not going to rain."

"Kate, it is not going to rain. They said it wasn't going to rain."

Two hours into the drive, the unthinkable happened. It started to rain.

"Jon, it's raining! Now what do we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

I hoped and prayed it wasn't raining at the zoo. We had spent so long researching this trip, packing the van, and getting the kids' hopes up; I couldn't see turning around when maybe it would all blow over.

"Let's keep going."

An hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of the National Zoo, and it was still raining.

"Now what?" Jon asked.

It was pouring at this point. "Let's just make the best of it. If we see three animals and then leave, at least we saw three animals."

We parked and unloaded that huge stroller, which of course meant standing in the rain while we attached the front wheel. When we unloaded the kids, I tried not to make a big deal out of the rain because I didn't want them to get upset. After all, it is just water.

Jon raced to the entrance with the stroller, avoiding the deepest puddles. I ran behind, trying not to get hit with the spray. No question about it-we were going to get wet. "Jon, when we get inside let's see if we can buy some of those rain ponchos." I was determined to help the kids have the best time possible. We took cover in the first shop we saw. "Do you sell rain ponchos?" I asked the girl behind the counter.

"I'm sorry, we're all out. We sold the last one about twenty minutes ago."

My kids in trash bags. What a sight, huh?

It was probably a good thing. I was willing to spend the money, but we couldn't have afforded ten anyway. Then I had an idea. In front of us was a food vendor huddling under his hut to keep dry.

"Excuse me, do you have a roll of trash bags?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Could you give me ten of them? I'll pay you."

"No, lady, you can just take them," he said as he tore off ten plastic bags.

Growing up, my grandma had taught me a trick; if you poke head and armholes into the trash bag, it's almost like having a rain poncho. One by one, Jon and I dressed each of the kids into a clear trash bag and tucked it around them. Then Jon and I put ours on. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it helped. All morning we had walked around in trash bags and hid under trees and shelters. We spent a long time watching the elephants because they were indoors. We knew we looked ridiculous, but we didn't care. We wanted our kids to experience the zoo like kids in normal-sized families did.

But I had forgotten again that we weren't a normal family. Our first shows had aired and people were starting to recognize us from TV. With the size of our group and our trash-bag ponchos we weren't exactly inconspicuous. Jon noticed people were staring. As word traveled around the zoo, we began to see people taking pictures-not of the animals-but of us. By the time we got to the panda exhibit (a rare display; most zoos in America don't have pandas) we found more people staring and taking pictures of our family than of the pandas! It's actually quite uncomfortable to be in a zoo and find people treating you like the exhibit. I imagined the conversations around us: "Mom, after we see the pandas, can we go see that TV family in the trash bags?" I started to sympathize with the animals.

By lunchtime, we'd had enough and we headed to the parking lot. Back in the van, we stripped wet clothes off the kids and put on dry outfits from the stash in the van. Jon took his wet s.h.i.+rt off and thought he had an extra clean one. But when he pulled it out of his backpack, he discovered something had spilled on it. We distributed the lunches and took off for the long drive home-with Jon driving s.h.i.+rtless.

Just outside of Was.h.i.+ngton, I yelled at Jon to stop. "Look! There's an organic grocery store." I was always searching for organic foods and there weren't organic stores near us. The kids were dry and happy and Jon was fine with stopping. I think the fact that there was a Starbucks across the street didn't hurt either.

"Go in and see what you can find," he said. "When you get back, I'll throw my jacket on and run across the street and get us each a coffee." The rain had subsided a bit, but I was still wet and the coffee sounded good (but when doesn't it sound good to me?).

"I'll be right back!" I was only in the store ten minutes, but as I came out the door I could see it was raining harder. On my way to the van, I noticed something disturbing; no one was in the driver's seat! My first thought was that Jon was in the back with the kids, but as I rounded the corner I saw Jon standing in the parking lot, drenched! He had a horrified expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Look!" he said and opened the van door.

The smell hit before I saw it. Vomit. Vomit on Alexis who was in her seat and crying hysterically. Vomit on her car seat. Chunks dripping onto the floor mats.

The smell was overpowering. So was the sound. All of the kids were wailing because it smelled so bad.

"I...I don't know what to say," said Jon.

More important, he didn't know what to do. He was paralyzed.

I grabbed Alexis and handed her to Jon. "Use the rain to wash her off." He started stripping off her clothes. I reached under the seat for the lemon-scented wipes and tried to clean up her car seat. I wanted to take it apart but couldn't because we were hours from home and she still had to ride in it.

Vomit was in every crack and crevice. The kids screamed and gagged. The heat and humidity combined with the putrid smell made me nauseous. We couldn't open the windows because of the rain. I was worried more kids would start throwing up, so I handed them the only thing I had. "Hold the wipe up to your nose and breathe through it." I hoped the lemon scent would somehow mask the smell, but if it didn't, at least it would give them something to do.

As Jon stood in the rain, Alexis wearing only a diaper, sniffled in his arms. We were out of outfits, so we wrapped her in a blanket before putting her in her seat. Dripping wet once again, Jon and I got back into the van and looked at each other helplessly.

The kids fell asleep on the way home. I don't know who was more ecstatic to pull into the driveway, Jon or I. Despite all our planning and preparation, we couldn't have predicted the things that went wrong that day.

Had we known before we started, we never would have continued with the trip. But looking back, I am glad we had that experience. In some warped way, that horrendous day at the zoo gave us the confidence to attempt more outings. Though it was one of our worst trips ever, Jon and I agreed that if we could handle that we could handle anything.

By the time July rolled around, we were getting more adventurous. Grandmom turned sixty and we took Cara, Mady, Leah, and Joel to her surprise party. After that we had promised the kids another outing, but it was too hot to take the bus very far. We needed a backup plan or Mady and Cara would be the ones melting down. We needed to go somewhere that didn't cost a lot of money and that we could handle logistically. That place was Chocolate World.

Chocolate World is Hershey's visitor center, and only a fifteen-minute drive from our house. They had shops and a factory tour-the perfect place to take the kids. Jon and I began thinking logistics. We wouldn't be able to take strollers because of the stairs. The babies could walk, but they had a tendency to roam, especially Alexis and Joel. We needed to find another adult to go with us. A phone call later, our friends Karl and Kristen agreed to come along. We made plans to leave our house at 6:00 p.m.

At 5:15, the skies darkened and it looked like rain. We loaded the kids into the bus early, which turned out to be a wise decision. While we waited for Karl and Kristen, it started storming wildly, complete with hail. Jon and the kids looked out the van windows as I prayed we would be safe. From the car, we watched as the lights in the neighborhood flashed and then went out. Without electricity, we couldn't do anything at home, so when Karl and Kristen arrived we proceeded as planned.

I'm so glad we did! The kids had a great time. They were yelling with glee at the talking cows. And because they walked, we didn't draw too much attention (though Jon says he saw people counting). It felt so "normal" to ride the rides together as a family.

After Chocolate World, we went to an ice cream shop the kids call the Purple Place. This was a big step for an all-natural organic momma whose idea of a sugary treat was an animal cracker! We fed the kids vanilla soft serve. It was so cute to see the little kids saying "bite-bite" when they wanted more.

By the time we got home three and a half hours later, the power was still out. Jon grabbed a flashlight and together we gave the kids sponge baths on the dining room table. I washed and pa.s.sed them to Jon who dried and dressed them. The kids were sugared up, so they just chased each other in the dark.

Surprisingly, I was the one who was calm throughout the ordeal and Jon was the one who was grouchy. For me, it felt like a small victory; I was learning to roll with the situation even when I didn't have control. Fortunately, the power came on before we put the kids to bed. I fell asleep that night appreciating how we were learning to make it work-even when it didn't always work the way we wanted it to. It felt like another baby step into the normal world. The kids weren't the only ones growing; I was growing too.

At the parade on our favorite summer holiday.

Two days later was our favorite summer holiday: the Fourth of July. Jon and I always loved the parade in Wyomissing, and we planned to take the kids. We had them up by 7:00 and eating breakfast by 7:30. By 8:38, we were in the bus and on the road. It felt like quite an accomplishment for two tired parents.

Once there, we met some friends, found a place along the route, and parked the stroller so the little kids would have a good view of the parade. I pa.s.sed out balloons and flags and was getting ready to sit down when I realized we had a total of six adults.

"Jon, what if we let the kids out of their stroller? We could put one adult in charge of each kid."

"I don't know. It's easier if we just leave them in the stroller."

"Yes, it's easier," I agreed. "But when do we ever do what's easy?"

Jon agreed. I pa.s.sed a kid to each set of adult arms. Once the parade started, the little kids quickly learned from Mady and Cara that when candy is thrown your way, you run to pick it up. It made me so happy to see that my babies could experience the parade like normal two-year-olds! I think it also relieved some of my guilt about the sacrifices they had to make because of the size and makeup of our family.

After the parade, we made our way to the picnic area where I spread a blanket and fed them lunch. The kids had peanut b.u.t.ter crackers, cantaloupe, and cheese. They were so sweet as they sat and ate, and I was proud of their behavior. It rea.s.sured me to know we could take them out in public without an incident.

That night, we had a picnic dinner at home in our backyard. I put the babies in swimmies and we set up the sprinkler b.a.l.l.s. The girls donned their swimsuits and off they went. I must have been tired, because I let the babies get filthy dirty and I never do that. But they loved it! When we were ready to come in, two of them had p.o.o.py swimmies, which complicated things a bit, but I washed them all down with utility towels and then sent them upstairs to Daddy for a much-needed bath. Together we got the kids bathed, lotioned, and dressed, and they went to bed with no complaints. We were quite a team!

It was such a fun day. And at the end of it, I felt like we'd accomplished something important. I had been able to have a good time, and I know the kids had a great time too. My organization once again saved us! It got me thinking: I might be up for the organizational challenge of Disney next summer. Nanny Joan and Terry had offered to meet us at Disney to help, and for the first time I thought it might be a good idea.

Obviously, I was growing in confidence. We were also growing as a family, taking steps outside of the house, and exploring new things.

Before we could attempt a trip to Disney, we needed a few more experiences under our belt. We went to the "Purple Place" a few more times and learned that pulling directly up to the deck meant we could unload the kids without needing another adult. Cara and Mady helped Jon with the little kids while I placed the orders.

Aaden taking his sisters for a ride at Cocoa Castle.

In mid-July, we attempted the Cocoa Castle, a playground near the recreation center in Hershey. Built over fifteen years ago, the wooden play structure had stairs, slides, bridges, and other games. Using the lesson from the Purple Place, Jon pulled the bus as close to the entrance as possible to drop them off. I was nervous about watching eight kids by myself so I offered to park the car while Jon went in with the kids.

For the most part the kids stayed in a pack, and I snapped pictures as they ran through the playground. Unfortunately, we couldn't let them play long, maybe twenty minutes, because Jon noticed dark clouds looming. When I tried to herd them into the bus, Collin threw himself on the ground and absolutely refused to go. Oh, it was lovely! But even with the tantrum Jon and I were glad we had taken them, and proud to learn that we could do it on our own.

A few weeks later, we decided to take the family to Friendly's restaurant in Hershey. By this time our show had been on TV for a while and we were beginning to be recognized more frequently. I learned that if I called ahead, they could put us to one side where we'd cause less attention.

Before we left, Cara packed the comfort bag all by herself and very willingly. She did a great job and it was nice to have an extra set of hands getting things ready.

At the restaurant, we had a little trouble getting the kids out of the bus. Remember the dog licking my ankles and the rude lady? This was the trip. Once inside, I ordered food immediately because I wasn't sure how the kids would do with the wait. Cara got a hot dog and fries. I ordered three chicken fingers kids' meals-some with fries and some with broccoli. When the plates arrived I divided it all up and gave the other seven some of everything.

The kids did awesome. Jon sat next to Alexis, with Mady and Aaden across from him. Joel was on the end of the table. I sat with Hannah next to me. Leah was on the other end of the table, and Cara and Collin were across from me. I showed Hannah how to get Enjoying a family meal at a restaurant in Georgia on our way to Florida.

napkins and she was able to get them for all the kids. Both Hannah and Leah were able to handle ketchup with their fries.

After dinner, we went back to our favorite playground-Cocoa Castle-and this time we were able to stay longer. They played until it was time to leave and everyone went willingly. I was so proud of them. "Good job, guys!" I said.

"Good job, Mommy!" said Hannah.

That was so sweet to hear. Especially because I felt like I had done a good job. I had spent the day cleaning and then I had the rare privilege of not having to make dinner and clean up the mess. When we got home, all we had to do was give the kids a bath and put them to bed. Oh, how marvelous!

Going anywhere outside of the house was a treat for the kids. I remember a trip to Target right around that time. Jon and I each put four kids in a cart. We got the usual stares and conversations, but the kids didn't notice. They were all looking up at the shelves lined with colors and shapes. It just wasn't normal for them to go to a store like that, in fact, for some of them, it may have been their first visit. Our kids were always so good in public because they didn't get to go out very often. They were too amazed at everything they saw to act up. As we loaded the kids in the car, Leah started fussing and tried to tell me something. "No home, Mommy. No home, Mommy!"

She didn't want to leave!

"Are you having fun, Leah?" I asked.

She nodded her head.

"Okay, how about we drive around and you can look out the window?"

She seemed happy with that idea. She is really easy, let me tell you.

By September 2006, we had the basics down. We could do family outings without too much trouble. One Sunday we took the kids to Applebee's, calling ahead to arrange seating.

When we arrived, we used our newest (and easiest!) way of moving: we walked in holding hands. People were awed-actually staring with open mouths-as we walked to our table. One lady and her husband at the bar both seemed fascinated with us; they had a curious expression as they watched our every move. They also had a baby with them. I couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking as they watched our little parade.

We got everyone seated rather quickly and in a relatively organized fas.h.i.+on. The waitress said we could have two free kids' meals with their kids' club and she gave me a card for each child for a free meal on their birthday. The staff went out of their way to be kind and we so appreciated their generosity and help.

At some point, a new waitress came over to our table. "Here, this is for you," she said, handing Jon a five-dollar bill.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I was working the take-out section and a woman picking up her food saw your van. She asked me if a couple with twins and s.e.xtuplets was inside. I told her yes. Then she gave me the money and asked me to give it to you."

Jon and I were surprised and touched by her kindness.

The kids ate well and were very well behaved. I think we impressed the people around us. I don't want to brag, but I was impressed myself. The Applebee's employees all stood and waved as we left. The kids said "bye-bye." It was too cute!

When we got into the van, Jon put his hand out and we slapped a high-five.

"That was cake!" he said.

I thought so too. When we first started going out with the kids I never imagined a day we'd think it was easy.

I think we appreciated those experiences more than "normal" families because we had to work so much harder to make them happen. Sometimes people would say, "Oh, my gosh, I can't believe you took all the kids and did that." And I understood. Pure exhaustion followed every excursion. Not only because of the planning and execution, but also because of the emotional energy of constantly being on high alert. It would have been much easier to stay home, but we wanted our kids to have opportunities to experience the world outside our home.

I grew up in a house with four siblings, and I don't ever remember being in a restaurant with my family. Until I was an adult, I didn't even know how to order off of a menu! I didn't want that for my kids. We couldn't afford to eat out often, but we did it as often as we could.

After the dinner at Applebee's, we went to the Cocoa Castle. As we pulled in, Hannah yelled, "Castle! Hi Castle!" Somehow, that made all our effort worth it. My kids were braver than they were at the beginning of the summer. They were eagerly embracing and engaging the world around them. Though it was exhausting for Jon and me, that's why we did it.

When your kids can get through a meal in a restaurant and the waitress compliments their behavior, you know you've done something right. Yes, we've had those meals where Mady (or any of the kids for that matter) melted down and Jon took them to the car to deal with it, but that's part of growing too.

We pushed through. We started with church and took on more challenges over time. Each trip taught us something that we applied to the planning and logistics of the next one. Looking back, I can see that it would have been easy to allow our fears to keep us inside our house, but by tackling that fear head on, we were able to expand our comfort zone. That first trip to the zoo wasn't a treat, but it was a confidence builder and formed the foundation for the trips we took later and enjoyed. We didn't let the bad times stop us from trying again. We learned that anything was possible, not because of the right preparation, but because of the right att.i.tude. That's the bottom line. It takes a lot of energy, but if you want something enough, it can be done.

4.

DEAR JESUS.