January 26, 2005

Cheaper by the Dozen: The Case for a Large and Ubiquitous Family

by Jo Ann Skousen

In the charming 1950 film, "Cheaper by the Dozen," Myrna Loy and Clifton Webb play stern but affectionate parents raising their 12 children as an experiment in scientific efficiency. With 17 people staying at our house for Christmas this year, we decided to rent last year's remake and see how efficiency theory might be applied to modern situations. We should have rented the original instead! Far from charming or innovative, the recent remake of "Cheaper by the Dozen" could have been titled, "Cheap Shots by the Dozen." The father (Steve Martin) is predictably inept, the mother (Bonnie Hunt) predictably serene, and the children (too numerous to list, but headed by Disney's Hillary Duff) predictably out of control. Children literally swing from the chandelier and dangle from the balcony, chase each other through the house with an ax, and wreak havoc at a neighbor's birthday party. Funny? I suppose. But engaging? Not to anyone who actually belongs to a large family. Ten minutes into the film, (about the time that a bullfrog was landing in the scrambled eggs) my husband said with disgust, "I was raised in a family of ten kids, and it was nothing like this."

The truth is, large families (the non-blended, all-from-the-same-two-parents kind) are seldom chaotic. Unlike the "Daddy Day Care" scenario, in which a dozen young children are thrust suddenly into close proximity in an unfamiliar environment, large families occur gradually, allowing members to adapt to new additions one at a time. Large families learn cooperation, patience, flexibility, and independence. True, children of large families sometimes feel neglected, but this neglect often leads to the freedom to explore one's own interests, unfettered and unjudged by a parent's own goals or expectations. Instead of being jealous of the "favorite," the wise neglected child is grateful for the sibling who distracts the parents' attention.

Here are some of the advantages of rearing, and being reared in, a large family:

Long-term perspective. As the mother of five children, I find that I'm almost always worried about one child (although they each take a turn at being the one who is giving me fits.) But while I may feel like a failure temporarily with that one child, having four others allows me to feel that I'm "eighty percent a good mother." My thirty years of motherhood has brought me more joy and satisfaction (as well as more worry and frustration) than I ever could have imagined.

Self-sufficiency. From tying their own shoes to doing their own homework and getting themselves ready for bed, children of large families tend to take care of themselves at an earlier age, as Mom has to devote attention to new babies. This self-sufficiency carries into adulthood, where they tend to be more innovative, persistent, and self-motivated. They know they have to make things happen for themselves.

Constant friendships. In a large family there is always someone with whom to play a game, read a story, have a conversation. I feel a great sadness for my friends who have allowed themselves to become divided from their siblings. Friends come and go, but families share a lifelong history. Of all my accomplishments in life, the one of which I am most proud is that all of my children genuinely like each other. They rejoice in each other's triumphs, and rally to each other's defenses. Although they are divided by geography, living in five different states, and do not always share the same personal philosophy, they are united by telephones and email.

Self-government. Our son Todd, self-appointed "cool uncle" to our just-beginning second generation, agreed with his father's assessment of the inept portrayal of large families in "Cheaper by the Dozen." He observed, "In large families, the older kids raise the younger kids. That's just the way it is." He's right. When you get beyond a "handful" (five fingers or more) there simply isn't enough time to micro-manage every child. So, to borrow an adage from Joseph Smith, wise parents of large families "teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves." I know one large family (ten children) who did this deliberately, assigning each of the older children as "guardians" to each new baby as numbers six-through-ten came along. But usually this guardianship happens spontaneously. When my youngest daughter began developing into a whiny brat at the age of 8, her two older brothers let her know what was acceptable and what wasn't. They corrected me if I gave in to her tantrums, and they encouraged her by including her whenever she behaved appropriately. They did this instinctively, as a matter of personal survival. She learned very quickly that if she wanted to hang out with her brothers, she would have to measure up. And she did.

Less pressure to fulfill parents' dreams. Children in large families may seem to get lost in the crowd, but sometimes that's a good thing. When my son-in-law, one of eight children, quit college and gave up a full-ride scholarship to pursue a self-taught career, his parents didn't fall apart and agonize over what others might think. They had given him the proper tools while growing up, and they trusted him to make his own decisions, just as his older sisters had done. He has been very successful in his own business, in part because his parents supported him without controlling him. I've noticed that parents of only one or two children, particularly parents who wait until their thirties or longer to have children, tend to expect their children's only purpose in life is to "make us proud." There is enormous pressure to excel in sports, music, and even preschool; to attend the right university; to pursue the right career. Parents of large families also want their children to excel, but when there are many to oversee, it's easier to keep a perspective that allows children to develop their own dreams and aspirations. Each of our children has changed colleges and majors midstream, developing unexpected talents that have led to satisfying careers.

Negotiation skills. Think of what China's one-child policy means in terms of
personal development: no brothers, no sisters, no cousins or aunts or uncles. In short, no need to share, barter, or exchange. Instead, each child has two parents, four grandparents, and as many as eight great-grandparents doting on him, pampering him, giving in to his every whim. By contrast, children of large families learn to negotiate. Whether it's exchanging chores, sharing clothes, or keeping secrets from the parents, children from large families learn to acknowledge the needs and interests of others in order to further their own self-interest. They often become successful entrepreneurs.

Individuality. Parents of two children try to be fair and give each child exactly
the same things. But what is the point of giving each child matching blue bicycles, if only one child wants a bicycle? This method has the same results as the socialist system it emulates: inefficiency and dissatisfaction. As a parent of a large family I try to give each child 100 % of what they need, but not equal amounts of anything. This means that at any given time, one may get a larger portion of my time, another a larger portion of my money, and a third a larger portion of being left alone. But I try to make sure that they all have what they truly need, and especially that each feels loved, respected and appreciated.

Religious foundation. Most large families belong to religious cultures that
encourage them to have a numerous posterity. They tend to teach the Golden Rule of doing unto others as they would have others do unto them. This may seem like a fruity self-sacrificing axiom, but it is the foundation of good business. The free market is made up of millions of individuals providing goods and services that other people want, in order to further their own self interest. True religion teaches individuals to be compassionate and empathetic, which traits, if applied wisely, can lead to valuable innovations in the marketplace.

Shared responsibility when parents reach old age. As old age approaches, the only-child who was doted upon by 2 parents and 4 grandparents now bears the pressure of caring for those forebears alone. Even while growing up, only-children feel an intense responsibility to measure up and be available for their parents. I remember taking my son's friend with us on a white-water rafting trip when the boys were about six years old. As we were leaving, the mother said to me, "Tell the guide that if the raft tips over, Ben is an only child!" She was only half joking. No child is expendable, of course, and I love each of my children passionately. But only-children tend to feel the responsibility of being available for their parents, and are less free to pursue their own interests.

Loyalty. Children of large families may squabble among themselves, but they are fiercely loyal when someone else tries to criticize or harm a sibling. In "Cheaper by the Dozen," when the family reaches a crisis over the disappearance of the neglected child, the entire family rallies to find him. That's the kind of experience I observe in large families. They may be angry with one another from time to time, and they may waste a lot of years with hurt feelings, but when crisis hits, they rally. I acknowledge that not all families turn out this way; large families sometimes drift apart. I've painted a rosy picture of large families, true of the families I've observed, because I think family relationships are worth the effort it takes to patch, repair, and nurture them. To me it's sad that the large family has become almost extinct, a dinosaur from a bygone era, so unusual that it can only be perceived and portrayed today in caricature.

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