All my growing up years I dreamed how it would be when I was a mom.

I’d take great care of my kids, keep them safe and love them deep and they’d love me back.

I’d give them everything they wanted, everything I could think of, and everything I didn’t get emotionally.

I’d be their best friend and then when they grew up, they’d put me high up on a pedastol, maybe even enter me in BEST MOM contests.

By the time I was 26 years old, I had four adorable little girls who called me mom.

I hadn’t really visualized it quite that way.

For some reason I thought I’d have sons.

But when the last two were born together and they were girls, I decided that was enough.

I figured even if Jesus appeared and promised me if I’d do it one more time, I’d have a son, I’d have to decline.

Two at a time and no boy?

Nope, I was done.

Anyone who’s a mom, knows it’s hard work and eventually finds there’s no one perfect way to raise kids.

Actually it seems in trying for perfection is when we really screw up.

I read Dr Benjamin Spock’s Childcare book.  

He said to spoil your child.

If their psyche needs to write on a wall, let them.

That was good for about two wall scrubbings and then I threw out the book and disciplined the writer.

Raising four little girls was not easy.

I hadn’t been prepared for the evolving of four completely different female personalities.

Even my little twins didn’t think or behave the same as each other.

Hair styles, food, friends, music, and clothing just to mention a few differences  I dealt with.

You might think that I could buy clothing for the oldest and when she grew out of them, hand them down to the next.  

They were girls, right?

That didn’t work. 

The oldest loved to shop and had her own taste in clothing goin’ on and it was different, very different and nothing number two was gonna wear, absolutely no way.

Number three and four were twins. 

When they were born, a social worker paid me a visit before I left the hospital. She warned me that twins came with lots of identity problems, they each needed their own individuality so not to name them cute rhyming names and not to dress them alike.

Rhyming names?

I had one boy name ready, now I needed two girl names?

Actually during that nine months there was a moment when I was confused with all the rumbling going on inside and thought that maybe there were two in there, but didn’t REALLY mean that!

But just for fun, I thought up two boy names.

But two GIRL names?

Nope!

I left the hospital with two little bundles, their names for the moment were A and B.

They ended up with their own names, Amy Ann and Melissa Ann.

I did twin it up a bit with their middle names but darn, I really didn’t think that would upset their psyche’s. 

For the first year and a bit more, I dressed them the same, identical outfits but different colors.

Again, their psyche’s had to be tougher than that.

THEY WERE BABIES!

THEY DIDN’T KNOW!

Eventually they developed their own taste in clothing.

Keeping clothing straight of four girls was something I coudn’t do without the help of a felt-tipped marker.

I chose the number seven, that seemed like a reasonable enough number.  

Each girl had seven pair of undies, seven undershirts, seven pair of pj’s and seven pair of socks.

That meant 28 pair of undies, 28 undershirts,  28 pair of pj’s and  FIFTY SIX socks.

Everything was identified with the initial of their first name.

Even their winter jackets had a big identifiable marker initial.

However, that didn’t stop one who’s name I won’t mention from often wearing the wrong jacket home….more times than I care to remember.

Whenever that happened, I knew there was a kid somewhere taking off their jacket and wondering what that big “A” meant written inside.

Hair styles? 

A beautician I was NOT.

My hair was care-free short because I had zero hair talent.

But I turned into a stylist every morning.

There was thin, fine, straight hair….. long, thick wavy hair….. and two heads of blonde curls.

Having to create four different styles every morning was way beyond the teeny bit of hair talent I had.

Rubber bands, pony tails & pig tails that was it.

Once mornng I had a request for a “girl scout” hair-do.

What the heck was that?

She explained that she’d seen a girl scout the day before and liked her hair!

She did her best to describe it to me, and this was my fussy one so I did my best to satisfy her.

I must have done fairly well because after that, she often requested a girl scout do.

Eventually Dorothy Hamill came around in her ice skates and short hair and I convinced them all to get a Dorothy Hamill.

They wore short hair until they were old enough to fix their own.

Years later my Sweet Melissa told me that her boyfriend at the time broke up with her the day she came to school with short hair…..he called her a boy!

Oh my heart!!! 

GUILT, GUILT, GUILT!!!!!

(And, she DIDN’T look like a boy! She was adorable…..STILL IS!)

Mealtime? 

A nightmare! 

Trying to find meals to satisfy four picky little people was close to impossible.

One refused to eat anything that had ever been alive and had a mom.

One refused to eat mashed potatoes.

One wouldn’t eat anything made with certain types of cheese and

one always had a stomach ache at dinner time but always felt better the moment the table was cleared and…..could she have a cookie?

Every once in a while on a Friday we’d do fast-food take out but it wasn’t easy.

I called it “the run” because I ran from one place to another trying to satisfy everyone.

We couldn’t go somewhere and just sit down like a normal family and everybody order something from the menu.

Nope.

WHY?

Because……

One only wanted her fries from McDonalds but her Burger from Burger King.

One wanted only Mexican but nothing in it that had ever had a mom.

One liked McDonald fish sandwiches but not their fries, she like Burger King fries.

One only wanted fish from Long John Silvers.

I remember my girlfriend telling me I was nuts for putting up with that……I was!

And pizza?  

Right! 

Getting one pizza we could all enjoy was absolutely not possible.

My neighbor had boys.  

Sometimes I’d see her coming in with two big PIZZA PIZZA boxes and I was envious!

We couldn’t do that.

Getting a pizza that all six could enjoy was like going to one fast food and everyone ordering.

Just a dream!

The solution?

We stayed home.

We each made our own.

Tortillas were used as the crust, the one thing everyone agreed on.

And the four fussy little females chose their toppings from a platter placed in  the middle of the table.

When they were old enough to deal with the kitchen, I assigned a day to each girl.  She had to plan, prepare and serve a meal for our family of six.

I wanted them to appreciate what it took to labor in the kitchen, hoping that might make them at least try what was served.

Some of those meals were quite interesting…..edible but not quite tasty enough for anyone to want second helpings.

Of all four girls Julie was the least interested in anything that went on in the kitchen, including cooking……actually, especially cooking but into the trenches she went on her assigned days.

She eventually took enough interest in her turn that she put a little effort into her presentations.

One evening she proudly placed our large wooden salad bowl on the center of the table.

It was  lovely.

Actually, that’s when we all realized that Julie didn’t know the difference between cabbage and lettuce.

No one said a word.

We crunched and ………..crunched.

I DID, sometime later explain and show her the differnce between lettuce & cabbage. 

Nope, it wasn’t EASY but I loved when they were little.  

Partly I guess because they were under my thumb, I was in charge and I wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen to them

Regrets and Guilt?  

Oh ya! 

LOTS.

But probably like most every other mom, I gave it all I had.

I gave it my best shot and I loved every one of them way past forever.

The title?

Four plus one is two?

That’s because along the journey I inherited another daughter.

I loved her, I tried to guide her, and I legally adopted her.

All five grew up and became adults.

And they actually know how to cook.

It didn’t turn out to be the fairy tale I always imagined.

I began with four, added one but ended up with two.

But…..that’s another story.