119-Years
Over lunch the other day one of my children calculated my parental experience, pointing out that I have 119-years of experience, with a new born in each of the last 4 decades - that last bit was just salt on the wound.
Experience teaches you one or two things, maybe too many things to recall, but your stomach tells you with increasing accuracy when something is right or wrong. Lessons are learned, mostly the hard way. It does not mean that you are an expert, in fact it probably just means you have made more mistakes than the average person - maybe even per capita. However, it does mean you have been subjected to a consistent bombardment of things to deal with.
Having children is like learning to drive - at least at first. The road beneath your feet moves faster than ever before, you have to think faster, make decisions, and you experience things that are new, unexpected, and sometimes scary. Despite treating your eldest child with kid gloves, wrapping them in cotton wool, and knowing better than anyone else how to bring up that bundle of love, you actually grow more comfortable as time passes. Like driving, the road slows, you forget the mechanics of getting from a-2-b, you start to function on autopilot, changing nappies is as simple as changing gears.
The first car you buy is special, mine was called Betsy. I don't know why but I chose a name. The second car I bought was called Betsy II, I guess the originality of that name gives away my feelings about the acquisition - my second car was not in any way as special as Betsy. However, that is where the analogy ends, because each child is special. You never forget their first smile, the way they say daddy for the first time, the way they run into your arms ecstatic to see you. The first time they lay down and stomp their feet, refusing with every muscle in their tiny bodies to do 'your bidding', after all how dare you interrupt or interfere. You are there to serve!
If anything, it gets easier, you have learnt that teething troubles subside, so you can cope, you know that a special cream exists that helps, and that once the tooth appears the screaming stops. But there is no formula, one size does not fit all. Each child is unique, they have their own personality. They make you smile in different ways. They are also exhausting, you give your all, day in and day out. Sometimes only speaking to children that cannot or will not engage in grown up conversation. You may at times feel like bursting, that the walls will fall in. No matter what, you will get far more out of your relationship to compensate for all the lost sleep, the worries, and the expense.
True you have to stretch out the Mini Metros lifespan, you do your own repairs because that saves money. You settle for a white car because it is cheaper than the metallic grey, and save (slowly) for the dream... BMW. But then life is simple at first, only two children's parties a week, and three after school clubs, at two different schools, 4-miles apart. Then you realise, that one more car seat actually means buying a bus. A car so long that your first glance into the rear view mirror seems to go on and on forever - the never ending car, that cannot possibly fit into a parking space. Sometimes that is how having a large family feels, unwieldy. That bus soon fits into a normal parking space. You forget how long and wide it once felt. It is easier to drive than Betsy ever was. You have more fun. Loading and unloading is still a chore, but the journey, interaction, games, songs, and sure the fights all make life very worthwhile.