Do you stare at big families?

Yeah, me too.

I'm a total large family gawker. I eagerly engage in every one of the funny tactics that are done to me when I'm in public with my tribe. Turn around, rubberneck, eagle eye, count kids, ask questions that are clearly none of my business...whatsoever.

I can't help it. I have a mammoth crush on mega families. Remember how I once hunted down stalked trapped in a church bathroom so she could not get away "randomly met" Wendy, mom to 16? When I come across a mother of more kids than two hands can count, it's pretty awkward. I fall all over myself, blushing every imaginable shade of crimson and rapidly over blinking and rambling incoherently about how phenomenal they are and how I want to know every.single.detail. about how it is they do what they do. Like, exactly. As in can I come over to your house with my notebook and study you, in action? That's when they usually label me a creepy creeper lady and threaten to slap a genuine, law enforcement issued restraining order on me. Whatever. I'm not e v e n phased. I know in time, I'll grow on them. Deep down, whether they admit it or not, I tell myself that everyone likes an delusional admirer.

I know, so annoying.

Truth be told, it's not because I think they are actually all that exceptional. No person is worthy of a pedestal too high, nor do good folks usually prefer them. For the most part, I'm a fairly non delusional, well established subscriber in the flawed nature of human beings. All human beings. No matter what they might try to portray to the contrary. And the harder someone works to gloss over the appearance of their lives, the less glossy they usually are, right?

It's more that I am nosy we have something in common and people (me) are naturally prone to look up to those who are doing well the things that we want to also do well. This is where my passion lies too - at home, with my children. I earnestly long to thrive in the art of mothering a whole great big flock. Not because I believe it's a woman's place, but because I have do doubt, it is my place.

I'm also enthralled with adoptive mamas, especially those who go back and do it again. Double especially those who go back and do it again and adopt the less easily adoptable kids. Whoa. In my mind, that's the pinnacle of human excellency, right there.

So, when I happened across the rare chance to take my daughter to a birthday party today at a mega, adoptive family's house...well, you can imagine. I gawked and asked questions and probed, acting a fool all over the place. It was sort of one of the best days of my life. Kind of like the time I cornered W.J. in the bathroom or when I got to stand in the Cowboy Church of Peyton parking lot for an hour and hijack talk to that other mom, the one I so terrifically admire.

And although she has no idea the impact our brief moments together had on me, the words of this woman I met today, this mom to many, like the few and far between mothers like her I have previously met, still ring in my ears.

Because I am listening carefully. I want to be taught. I will learn.

This creepy creeper is paying attention, grateful for the opportunity.

 "This is my normal smile." Okay hon.