Everything I Know, I Learned from Kate Plus 8

Don’t lie. You know you used to watch Jon and Kate Plus 8.

I’m not the only one who watched that family-turned-train-wreck on TLC for most of the mid 2000s.


Anyway, if you watched you might remember how, in their old house [the tiny one that they somehow squeezed themselves and 8 children into?] Kate had scripture plastered all over the walls. I think it was everywhere, but I remember specifically that she had verses on index cards covering her kitchen cabinets.

I had no children at the time, and certainly not six two year olds, but I remember thinking:

Oh, how nice. She must be a strong Christian.

Looking back on this from my new perspective as a mother to [what feels like] a gaggle of my own babies, I understand that this was probably only part of the reasoning. Sure, she was strong. She birthed and raised 8 children.

The woman potty trained six two year olds at the same time.

If that’s not strength, I just don’t know what is.

And, ok, Kate Gosselin is not a personal friend of mine–so I’m just guessing here– but I think that those index cards were also about weakness.

Like, the we are weak, He is strong, kind of weakness. The I’m <–> this close to SNAPPING but this index card says JESUS LOVES ME so I guess I will calm down now.

Because He loves me and all.

And also because His eye is on the sparrow, and I don’t want Him to see this tantrum Imma bout to throw over some TRAIN TRACKS and LEGOS all over the floor at 6:45am.


Because let me tell you, there is nothing like motherhood to highlight every kind of weakness you have–mental, physical, spiritual. We might think we’re awesome at some point in our youths, but children were designed in part to relieve us of this notion, I think.

Summer is, in my professional opinion, an advanced course in learning how much you suck. Turns out, I can suck pretty hard when the going gets tough.

I’m weak.

I’m impatient. If you know me at all, you’re laughing because you freaking know this to be true.

I’m quick to anger, especially where poop on the floor is concerned.

I have trouble taming my words. Mary Bullock sounds just like me when she’s mad and determined to have her own way, and it is a dagger to my heart.

And don’t even get near me when I’m hungry. Just– don’t.

So bring on the index cards, right?

Only I don’t have any index cards. So, this. tweegram

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