Two Childhoods, One Family: Growing Up Number Six of Seven

Growing up in a big family usually gets summed up one way…
loud, chaotic, full of people, always something going on.

And yes… that was absolutely part of my story.

But it’s not the whole story.

Because I’m number six of seven…
and there’s a seven-year gap between me and the next oldest sister.

So I didn’t just grow up in a big family.

I grew up in two completely different versions of the same one.

---

The Loud Years

When I was little, our house felt like a revolving door.

Not just us… but friends, boyfriends, neighbors—
random people I’m still not entirely sure how they got there.

There were always teenagers around. Always noise. Always something happening.

It didn’t feel chaotic in a stressful way…
it felt chaotic in a this is kind of fun way.

Looking back, it was basically a constant, low-level party.

Sure, there was fighting. Definitely some mischief.
Seven girls, close in age… you can imagine.

But mostly, I remember it feeling exciting.

Holidays were a full production.
Our core nine could easily turn into twenty or thirty people without even trying.

It’s one of those things you don’t realize at the time…
that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to recreate that exact feeling.

---

The Logistics (aka how did we survive this?)

We had four bedrooms.
Which meant… a lot of sharing, a lot of shifting, and a general understanding that space was… flexible.

And the bathroom situation?

Technically, we had two full bathrooms.
In reality… we had one.

For reasons I still don’t fully understand, no one really used the downstairs shower.
So seven girls rotated through one upstairs bathroom like it was completely normal.

I honestly don’t remember how that worked.
I just know… it did. (Mostly.)

Laundry was always going.
Someone was always waiting.
And somehow, we all had clothes to wear.

The older girls had actual chore lists—like, real responsibilities every night.

Becki and I?

I don’t remember having much of anything in that department.
Which feels suspicious now that I think about it.

---

The Shift

Somewhere along the way, things started to change.

By the time I was heading into kindergarten, my oldest sister was already a senior.

And then, one by one… they all started leaving.

The house that always felt full…
started to feel different.

Quieter.

Not all at once. But steadily.

---

Just Me and Becki

Eventually, it was just me and my younger sister, Becki.

And somehow, even though we were only three years apart…
we felt like we grew up in completely different worlds.

I always felt older than I was.
Almost like I skipped ahead into an “older sister” role without really choosing it.

And she was the baby.
Fully and completely.

We didn’t talk a ton growing up.
We weren’t naturally in sync.

We were just… different.

And the gap between us felt bigger than three years—
probably because of everything that came before us.

---

The In-Between

So when people talk about growing up in a big family…
I always feel like I’m nodding along to two different stories.

I know the chaos.
I remember the noise, the people, the constant motion.

But I also know what it feels like when it quiets down.

When it’s not quite so big anymore.

When you’re figuring out where you fit in a family that used to feel one way…
and now feels like something else entirely.

---

What I See Now

Looking back, I don’t know how my parents did it.

Seven girls.
A house that never seemed empty.
A schedule that had to be nonstop.

And somehow… everything worked.

We had what we needed.
We had each other.

And that kind of environment doesn’t just happen by accident.

It takes a lot of showing up.
A lot of patience.
And probably a level of exhaustion I didn’t appreciate at the time.

---

The Part That Stayed the Same

Even now, with all of us grown and living completely different lives…

When we’re together, it still feels the same.

A little loud.
A little chaotic.
A lot of overlapping conversations.

And somehow… still exactly home.

---

What Stayed With Me

I didn’t just grow up in a big family.

I grew up in the loud version…
and the quiet one.

The full house…
and the almost-empty one.

And I think that’s why it shaped me the way it did.

Because I didn’t just learn how to be part of something big…

I also learned how to find my place when it got small again.

From somewhere in the middle,
Heidi

And I’m sure if you asked each of my sisters, you’d probably get seven completely different versions of this same story.