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I Grew Up Feral: What Growing Up in a Family of 12 Kids Actually Taught Me
Published 3/24/26
I grew up feral.
Not technically feral. We had loving parents. We went to church. We wore shoes. Sometimes.
But if you grew up in a family of twelve kids, you know what I mean.
There were no helicopter parents. There were no Google calendar invites. There were definitely no cell phones.
There were bikes.
There were farm animals.
There was chaos.
There were a lot of personalities.
And there was exactly one thermostat that we were absolutely never allowed to touch.
Here’s what growing up eighth out of twelve actually taught me.
1. If You’re Thirsty, “Drink Your Spit”
If we told my dad we were thirsty, he’d grin and say, “Drink your spit.”
Which, honestly? Rude.
But also… you learn pretty quickly that mild discomfort is survivable.
We rode our bikes everywhere. Like, everywhere. We knew we had to come home when it started getting dark. Not sunset. Not a specific time. Just… when it felt dark-ish.
We didn’t pack Stanley cups. We didn’t track hydration goals.
We drank from the hose. Or we waited. (pro tip: let the water run for a second before drinking. Cause no one wants hot hose water!)
And you know what? We survived.
2. Farm Animals Are Not Emotionally Stable
We had farm animals.
And farm animals live.
And sometimes farm animals… don’t.
One Sunday we came home from church and found chickens had made their way upstairs and were casually roosting on our bed frames like they paid rent.
I had a black cat that loved to bring me lizards. At all hours of the day AND nights. Dead lizards. And alive lizards.
You learn pretty quickly that life is both hilarious and fragile.
Also: don’t walk barefoot through tall pasture grass.
You will step in a cow pie.
You will find red ants.
You will regret your choices.
3. The Thermostat Is Sacred
We were NEVER allowed to touch the thermostat.
And seems to be a universal “dad” thing!
To this day, adjusting a thermostat feels rebellious. Slightly criminal.
Like somewhere, my dad can sense it.
4. Privacy Is a Myth
I never had my own room.
Not once. But you know the upside? I never remember being scared at night. Because there was always a sister super close by.
I was eighth from the top, which meant older siblings babysat us, and we were always sharing space, clothes, bathroom time, noise, everything.
If you needed mom during school hours? You just hoped she was home.
Because there were no cell phones.
No texting.
No Life360.
No Find My Friends.
Just vibes and faith.
And honestly? That kind of upbringing teaches you flexibility fast. With that many people, you don’t get your way very often.
You learn to adjust.
You learn to negotiate.
And you learn to sleep through anything.
5. If Your Friend Slept Over, Congratulations, They Now Have Chores
When friends slept over on Friday night, they knew what was coming.
Saturday morning = chore list.
Nobody was exempt.
You want to hang out? Cool. Fold laundry with us.
It was equal parts embarrassing and character-building.
6. You Learn to Cook Sooner Than You’d Like
I learned to defrost frozen chicken breasts and cook them in teriyaki sauce at an alarmingly young age.
Because in a family of twelve, if you can cook? You cook.
There was no “Mom, what’s for dinner?” energy.
We all pitched in. And now? I can cook a meal out of basically nothing. I never panic in a kitchen, and I have a deep appreciation for a good teriyaki sauce.
Life skills, baby. They sneak up on you.
7. Sale Tags Decide Your Personality
Back-to-school shopping was strategic.
If it didn’t have a sale tag on it, we most likely weren’t getting it.
You learn quickly how to scan clearance racks like a professional.
You learn that brand names are optional.
You learnt that if you want something bad enough, give it a few weeks and chances are, it will go on sale.
And honestly? I still love a good garage sale because of my dad. Saturday mornings digging through other people’s stuff felt like treasure hunting.
8. Siblings Are the Ultimate Social Training Ground
With that many personalities in one house, you learn how to get along with almost anyone.
You have introverts.
You have extroverts.
You have drama queens.
You have peacekeepers.
You have someone who absolutely touched the electric fence while holding someone else's hand to “prove a point.” (And yes. It doesn’t shock the other person. You’re welcome.)
You figure out fast that brother-and-sister gerbils will still reproduce.
You figure out how to survive noise.
You figure out how to share.
You figure out how to adapt.
You learn that life isn’t neat.
It’s loud.
It’s unpredictable.
It’s crowded.
It’s funny.
What Growing Up “Feral” Actually Gave Me
Here’s the thing.
It might have looked chaotic from the outside.
But from the inside?
It was childhood in its purest form.
Unfiltered.
Uncurated.
Unposed.
We weren’t performing for social media.
We weren’t documenting every second.
Half of what happened would sound made up if there weren’t a handful of grainy photos to prove it.
And that’s the part I think about now.
Because the messy moments?
The weird moments?
The “chickens in your bedroom” moments?
Those are the stories of my life.
Those are the ones that get told at our family dinners decades later.
Those are the ones that deserve to live somewhere other than just in our memory.
Growing up in a house of twelve kids taught me resilience.
It taught me flexibility.
It taught me how to get along with just about anyone.
It taught me to laugh at chaos instead of trying to control it.
And now, as a parent myself, I think about that a lot.
Because our kids might look a little feral sometimes.
They might be loud.
They might be messy.
They might be learning about electric fences the hard way.
But one day?
These are going to be the stories they tell.
The ones that make them who they are.
And I, for one, want those stories written down. I want to take those pictures!
Even the chaotic ones.
Especially the chaotic ones.
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