Well You're the One Who Wanted Six Kids...

I often hear this admonishment whenever I lament my parenting woes to others.  I'm not sure that these folks realize how alienating this truly is.  Do they not realize that parents with only two or three children can be just as miserable some days?  Do the parents of an only child not have moments that they would love to jump inside the television's Toy Story and zoom to Infinity and Beyond?  How is it that having a half-dozen hoodlums makes us deserving of doom and chaos?  Could I ask anymore questions?  I'm sure that I could, but I'll try to refrain from sounding three.
While we're on the topic of three, let's talk about this morning.  I awoke and was informed of something that had been done to Dad's Chair (TM).  Dad's Chair (TM) is part of a ridiculously expensive-though quite the deal- sectional/recliner package that we purchased from Sofa Mart.  It is microfiber.  Microfiber was invented for mothers, I am here to testify of the ease that one can simply clean any stain, be it snot, peanut butter, crayon, Sunny D, pee, or whatever-it-was-that-I-had-in-my-pocket that fell out and got squished.  Now on occasion I have taken to using the hair dryer to blow-dry a damp, cleaned section of couch...briefly.  Works like a charm. 
I cleaned the couch yesterday.
I did not put the hair-dryer away.
There is a hair-dryer sized hole melted into Dad's Chair (TM).
"Ali did it!" My darling Three year old who most days only answers by "Princess" and is NOT 'gorgeous,' but rather "BOOOOOTIPUL."
"Oh she did?" Commence rubbing her nose in it and swatting her on the butt, sending her to her room, like a puppy with tail between her legs.
Not even a half hour later, they start sneaking to me in the kitchen, first Jo, then Max, then Ali herself.  "Kayleigh really did it, Mom."  "Mom, Kayleigh made us say that Ali did it so she wouldn't get the pants beat off of her."  And then Ali...Boootipul Princess Ali came to me with her big blue eyeballs and pretty blond hair and says "Mom...I nuh do.  Dabin tow Taywee to do it."  Gavin and Kayleigh....of course.
I could go on and on about who did or did not do it and how we all decided who did it, and why the hell didn't the younger kids throw Kayleigh under the bus to begin with?  She IS the mean biggest sister...Sibling logic is lost on me.  Point here being, I was forced to stray from my projects in order to fix Dad's Chair (TM) before dad woke up...  Thankfully I found a patch, and did NOT iron it on, thank you, but used some self-adhesive fabric tape-which I also got wrapped around my hands and in the carpet and all over Alison as well.  Let's just say, it sticks. 
The patch is a peace sign, and while it sickens me to know that I have already had to mend a not even month old piece of furniture, it IS awful cute.  Or was..........until Nathan chewed the darn thing off and ran away cackling to climb onto the dining room table where he could stomp and dance and growl at those of us below.
I know, I know...I probably shouldn't be whining about my day to anyone.  I'm the one who wanted six kids.  But I'm not complaining, I just have to share.  It is a rare day that I meet anyone with six children, and if I can spread the word about what happens in our house just think of all the money people will spend on birth control!  We're a walking Trojan commercial-Forget her pleasure, what about her sanity?! 
And speaking of insane, I took them to the store today.  What a wild bunch we must have looked like with me calling out things like "Gavin, Blue Bonnet!  Kayleigh, cinnamon rolls! Max, get your hands off that! Jolie do you have to pee?"  And our vision could not be complete without Bootipul Princess sitting in the cart on her Mountain Dew Case throne.  A young man passed me in the Giant Pickle (TM) aisle and actually backed up to speak to me.  His face was drawn into that classic panic of a fresh twenty-something father-his eyes wide and bloodshot, stubble on his cheeks, hair sticking out from his head like he'd been electrocuted, and I noticed different colored socks.  "Ma'am?  Are all of these children yours?"  **EYE ROLL**  "Well yes, but I may leave some of them here in the Giant Pickle (TM) aisle if they don't start acting like sweet little human beings instead of Pickle Monsters" I said with a grin.  "Well my wife and I just had our first baby, and I don't know how to do it, but you're doing this...wow.  You're so blessed...bless you...this is amazing."  Now I know that he was delusional from 934 hours without sleep and new baby and blah, blah, blah that any of you who DIDN'T want six kids would try to reduce the compliment with, but there are some of you that know...  Words like these make us stop and look at the Bootipul Disasters that we have created, and for approximately 2 nanoseconds we forget that our new couches have melty holes in them, their shoes are on backwards, and that one of them is wearing her clothes inside out because what Princess says GOES...and we say Poop On You, People Who Say 'Well You Wanted All Those Kids!'  We are LUCKY enough to have all these kids!  You wish that you could have such a glorious bounty of children running amok in your home!  You envy my frizzy-up-in-a-clippy hair and my baggy sweatshirt that smells like laundry that sat in the washer too long before it was put in the dryer!  Annnnnd then we come back to reality which is, believe it or not, conveniently located in the wine aisle and served best chilled...