Recently, my friend Bianca (a mother of four like me) said something that gave me a good chuckle: “It seems that half my life is spent dealing with food -- planning for it, shopping for it, fixing it and cleaning up after it.”

I laughed. And then I stopped laughing. Because, wow, she’s right.

In fact, I think the only thing she left off her insightful statement was the other big one: budgeting for it.

I’ve always thought of myself as a frugal shopper. I buy generic whenever possible, and I steer clear of expensive cuts of meat. While I think the idea of organic vegetables is a nice one, in reality, the price tag is too hefty for this family of six. I plan ahead on meals, and I even make special trips to Aldi when I have the chance.

But especially as my kids (and their appetites) are growing, I find myself operating with a nagging sense that I’m not maximizing my grocery budget. I feel like I’m missing something -- surely there must be a more economical way to feed this family.

With my kids, I try to always say “yes” unless I have a good reason to say “no.” Even then, I’m willing to explain it to them so they don’t think I’m just an arbitrary tyrant (and so I won’t actually be an arbitrary tyrant).

The problem comes when I do have a good, if vaguely explainable, reason for saying “no” that makes perfect sense to me and Dan but is incomprehensible to my kids. Having a reason they don’t understand…at all…is very similar to not having a reason, at least in their minds.

I am not an overly protective mother and when it comes to my kid -- my strong, feisty girl of 5 -- I tend not to worry too much and lean toward "walk it off'' before I freak out.

But, of course, the girl who hasn't had more than a cold or an ear infection since she was 17-months, gets a fever of 102 in the middle of a Swine Flu scare.

Of course.

I have four children. That’s not, by some standards, a gigantic family (although the floor of my laundry room occasionally makes me wonder if we’ve somehow added a few stowaway children I haven’t met yet). To me, four feels like a lot sometimes. My husband and I both come from small families. We are still occasionally mystified that we manage a crew that cannot be safely transported in a normal sedan, and that we automatically have a parties-of-six-or-more gratuity figured in the moment we walk in a restaurant.

But it’s a good life, and I wouldn’t trade the chaos and laundry for all the sedans in the world. Still, there’s a learning curve involved in managing a larger-than-average family, and I’ll take all the pointers I can get.

So I was absolutely thrilled to learn about a new book by one of my favorite bloggers. She’s Mary Ostyn, of Owlhaven, and I started reading her blog about three years ago. Her story is a striking one: she and her husband John are the parents of ten children, six of whom they’ve adopted internationally. What I have loved about Mary, and the reason I have continued to soak up her wisdom every chance I get, is that she does not pretend to be Super Mom. She loves and enjoys all her children, all while admitting that it’s sometimes hard and messy. She faces parenting challenges squarely, with a wicked sense of humor and a hefty dose of common sense. I had the privilege of meeting her at a conference last summer, and it was such a treat to pick her brain in person!

I’m a lifelong Southerner and a former English major; as both, I’m little embarrassed to make the following admission.

Until now, I’ve never read To Kill a Mockingbird.