What it’s like to grow up with 12 siblings?

Cake was eaten at lightning speed and competition encouraged, but loyalty and love were the most important lessons

I didn’t realise my family was odd until I was 40. The publishers of my first book wrote a biographical blurb that began: “Helen FitzGerald is one of 13 children.” It’s now the opening line every time I’m mentioned. What could I ever do to knock it off top spot? Rob a bank? The 13 kids would probably still trump it.

Growing up, in Victoria, Australia, I didn’t know it was weird to be “number 12”; that the room I shared with number 13 was labelled “bedroom number four”; that there were too many names already floating about for our animals to get one (enter Pup, Puss, Mother Cat, Duck and Chooks numbers one to 24). Eventually, my parents ran out of ideas for the children too; my eldest sister is called Mary, the youngest is Maria.

Related: Sibling rivalry: getting your own back

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Parents and parenting | The Guardian

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