One thing about having five kids is that everything takes five times as long. Instead of one silly photo. I get five, well four, because one of my five is on the cusp of being a teenager. Teenagers don’t go out of their way to embarrass themselves like a seven-year-old would.
Things that should take a relatively short amount of time, seem to take forever. Reading a bed time story, not one but five. Using the restroom out and about, if there’s only one stall, it takes five times as long. Actually, it takes about ten times as long because the water in the sink suddenly becomes enthralling. Or by the time they’ve finally finished, someone needs to go again. Checking out books at the library takes forever, everyone needs to use their own card. Ordering ice cream, forever. Have you been to the ice cream shop with one indecisive child? Try five.
Yet for all of the normal things that take five times as long, there are just as many that happen five times as quick. A package of oreos, they are gone almost as soon as I set them on the table. Cleaning the house happens pentafaster (I just made that word up). Of course, the house seems to become messier exponentially quicker with each child. And the tree goes up lickety split.
Having a daughter taller than me comes in handy during the holiday season. I can sit and observe the lightening of the tree, all the while being thankful that I don’t have to put the lights on the tree. Once the lights go on, it’s really only a matter of minutes before all of the ornaments are on.
We always try to make it orderly. I am the keeper of the ornaments. I hand out special ornaments to each child. The babies get non-breakable ornaments. I make sure they have hangers on them. There are rules. One at a time. Every one takes turns. Ornaments must be hung securely. You must help people smaller than you. With five, it’s hard to follow rules and enforce them. More often than not, there’s a bottleneck involved in this process. I can’t seem to hand them out fast enough. Just about the time when my patience is running thin, it’s over. The last ornament is hung. We’re done and it’s up.
Overactiveovaries 
Reminds me of my childhood. I have no idea how you – or my mother – do it! I can’t believe how much of my time is taken up with just ONE child…
That sounds exactly how it went when they came over and decorated our tree. Only Papa handed out the ornaments, making sure they had hangers & I lifted little guys who wanted their ornaments to be hung at the top! It was fun.