11 36 44

Do these numbers mean anything to you? Of course not. But they mean a lot to me! 11= mom, aunts and uncles. 36= me, my brothers and all my grandma's grand kids. 44= great grand kids. 91 people spawned from lovely Anna. Can you believe that?! Wow. And 1/9 of us lived in my house when I was 14.

Back then, we had lived in East Point for 3 years. My aunt D was living in CT, and aunt Stacey was in Tampa, I think. Somewhere swampy. I don't know much about Florida. It seemed they both decided, simultaneously, that it was time to make a fresh start. Its all good. We lived in a 3 bedroom house and my mother had turned the front den into a master bedroom. So we had space.

Now that I really think about it our house has never been just us. My mema, other family, my "aunty" Rachelle, the devilish woman who lived with us last year (ugh. Let's not), so on. My mom's always opening up like that. Especially family.

So anyways, aunts move in, and we somehow make it work. I have bunk beds, my brother has bunk beds. Ms Lady and I sleep in my room, her bro Jay and my bro sleep next door. Aunt D is in the master bedroom, and I think this is where my ma got her habit of sleeping on the couch. My aunt Stacey and her 3 kids, Imani (5), Jordan(2) and Jared (lil pookie baby), sleep in the other bedroom.

Aunt Stacey was so paranoid! I can see why, now that I'm older. I'd be on the phone after school, and she'd have the operator cut her in to check on her babies. "and get off the phone!" we'd have to stay off til she got home! Do you know how hard that is for a high schooler? And wouldn't the phone NOT be busy if something was wrong? Like if one of them was injured I'd carry on my conversation? Ok. And I don't recall having her number to call her. So, if something did happen... There were very important things to talk about to the people I spent all day writing notes to! Why didn't we have call waiting?! So many questions!

The bigger boys tore their room up! My bro is not a rambunxious (i don't know how to spell it!), but Jay totally is. Even now. So he'd try to goad my brother into wrestling or play fighting him and it turned out so bad! They'd just end up pissed at each other. The only times property damage ensued was when Jay was outside throwing acorns in that mock romance way, trying to get my bro to come outside. And he threw one THROUGH the window! Sigh. No hiding that from the parents! Then there was the bag, full of books, through the wall. They hid that one for a long time. In another house, one boy tossed the other through a wall. Big holes.

Ms lady and I would put words in people's mouths. We'd amuse ourselves by watching our moms doing something across the room and add the vocals. I remember one of us using the line "no, you're wrong! This is just like when we were kids!" and cracking each other up. They never knew. They'd be so wrapped up in paperwork and plans and we'd have them talking about all kinds of nonsense.

What else? Oh shopping was insanity. We'd have to buy diapers every day! I mean we, cuz big people would give us money, and lil people would head to the CVS where I'd inevitably work. Like 3 gallons of milk at a time. If you want something, hide it! You like that cereal? You get one bowl of it, you're lucky. We'd have day and night shifts on dishes. And you better do them your assigned time, cuz if not you're doing the next person's on top of yours and messing up the rotation. If you're of a certain age, you have to sit at the table.

Speaking of the table... The chairs. Oh my, every chair was broken by the end of it all. I don't know how but it seemed like the tops slid off the chairs and people fell through the frames! Hillarity! We were checking chairs first before we sat down.

Everyone had their moments. Imani stood on the fireplace mantel and sang "we fall down" and would not stop! She just kept, "we fall down, we get up! We fall down, we get up!" and we're like "yay!" thinking she'd stop! And she wouldn't! Lmao! My aunt was like, "thank you mani! Thank you! You can stop now!" And her darling lil brother, one day, he's sitting on the bed crying. He was my lil buddy (I seem to get along with the toddler set) and so I say, "Jordan! What's wrong pookie?" and pick him up and let him cry in my lap. And then I realize what's wrong... He pooped on himself, and was in trouble. And now I got boo boo on me! I had to put him right back down on the towel I'd somehow ignored, his comfort be damned, and clean myself. *shiver* And then Jared. I can mention this since he is alive and well... I let him roll off the couch. Twice. Ms Lady was yelling at me from the kitchen, "hold him!" I was all in the tv or something. She is a born mom. And he would forward roll to the floor and giggle. And so I prayed he wouldn't grow up a lil slow... And he didn't! Whew!

Oh reminiscing is so fun! Eventually aunt Stacey moved back to CT, and aunt D moved into her own place. We missed them. That was definitely a memorable few months.

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