it is possible...
When I was in 2nd grade, I wanted to be a volcanologist when I grew up. I thought it would be cool to look into the inside of a volcano, realize it was going to blow, and then run down the mountainside telling all the people to "Run away! Save yourselves!" (Volcanologists don't actually do that, but still, the looking into the mouth of a volcano would be pretty awesome).
When I was in 2nd grade, I wanted 52 children, 26 boys and 26 girls, one of each for every letter of the alphabet. I thought it would be cool to have an Alex and an Audrey, a Benjamin and a Bethany, and so on and so forth, just to say that my family was alphabetically sound (wouldn't a Quincy and a Qiana be so awesome?). I even arranged for day care: my mother would watch all of my children while me and my volcanologist husband explored volcanoes all day long. It was a super plan.
When I was in 5th grade, I started to learn a little bit about life, you know, the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and that thing called love. And I got smart. I realized not only would my mother not really want to raise her 52 grandchildren, but that I was basically incapable of having 52 children. And not that I am vain or anything, but I really don't want to know what I'd look like after having 52 children. It's not a super pleasant thought.
But while doing a little of informational recreational reading, I read the name of a Mrs. Feodor Vassilyev, a nice Russian peasant lady who was very blessed as far as children go. So blessed, that she beat my goal in 1765 when there were no doctors or nurses or hospitals, let alone freedom for Russian serfs and independence for American citizens. 1765! That in itself is amazing. But not as amazing as this number:
69. Sixty-nine. Sesenta-nueve. Suisante -neuf. 69. 69. 69. 69. 69!!!
Whadda what? Seriously, I thought someone was making this up just to be funny or to make women seem like octo-mom breeders, but it's true! Wikipedia (and many other sources, I might add) had documentation that between 1725 and 1765 she and her husband had 69 children, 67 who lived (her husband remarried after her death of unknown causes and had 18 children by his second wife, for a grand total of 87 children, 84 of which survived infancy. He sure was busy). And even crazier than that, she had 16 sets of twins, 7 sets of triplets, 4 sets of quadruplets, and no singlets. That's 27 births in 40 years (that means she gave birth every 1.481 years, on average). In the 1700's!
My mind is sufficiently boggled. And in thinking about that I'm kind of tired. I think I'll stick with one. Or maybe two. Three or four would be nice, but 69?
Just thinking about it makes me feel saggy.
When I was in 2nd grade, I wanted 52 children, 26 boys and 26 girls, one of each for every letter of the alphabet. I thought it would be cool to have an Alex and an Audrey, a Benjamin and a Bethany, and so on and so forth, just to say that my family was alphabetically sound (wouldn't a Quincy and a Qiana be so awesome?). I even arranged for day care: my mother would watch all of my children while me and my volcanologist husband explored volcanoes all day long. It was a super plan.
When I was in 5th grade, I started to learn a little bit about life, you know, the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and that thing called love. And I got smart. I realized not only would my mother not really want to raise her 52 grandchildren, but that I was basically incapable of having 52 children. And not that I am vain or anything, but I really don't want to know what I'd look like after having 52 children. It's not a super pleasant thought.
But while doing a little of informational recreational reading, I read the name of a Mrs. Feodor Vassilyev, a nice Russian peasant lady who was very blessed as far as children go. So blessed, that she beat my goal in 1765 when there were no doctors or nurses or hospitals, let alone freedom for Russian serfs and independence for American citizens. 1765! That in itself is amazing. But not as amazing as this number:
69. Sixty-nine. Sesenta-nueve. Suisante -neuf. 69. 69. 69. 69. 69!!!
Whadda what? Seriously, I thought someone was making this up just to be funny or to make women seem like octo-mom breeders, but it's true! Wikipedia (and many other sources, I might add) had documentation that between 1725 and 1765 she and her husband had 69 children, 67 who lived (her husband remarried after her death of unknown causes and had 18 children by his second wife, for a grand total of 87 children, 84 of which survived infancy. He sure was busy). And even crazier than that, she had 16 sets of twins, 7 sets of triplets, 4 sets of quadruplets, and no singlets. That's 27 births in 40 years (that means she gave birth every 1.481 years, on average). In the 1700's!
My mind is sufficiently boggled. And in thinking about that I'm kind of tired. I think I'll stick with one. Or maybe two. Three or four would be nice, but 69?
Just thinking about it makes me feel saggy.
Just thinking about it makes me feel tired. Were you able to find names for all 69?
ReplyDeleteAlas, no. It seems like it would be very difficult to name 69 children. I think I would finally resort to numbers. How else could you keep track of them all?
ReplyDelete