In a family of 11, quiet moments are a rare currency. Our house is usually a symphony of shifting chairs, music playing in the background and the constant hum of someone starting a new project in the kitchen. It is a life lived in the plural, where “mine” almost always turns into “ours” before the sentence is even finished.

Regarding treats, most of our family traditions revolve around things that are fast and capable of feeding a small army. No-bake cookies are a staple in our house and are the perfect metaphor for our life together. There is no waiting for the oven to preheat and no patience for a slow rise. It is just a whirlwind of oats, peanut butter, and cocoa, stirred together on a hot stove, while someone tries to find a clean spoon. They are messy and imperfect, but they work because everyone is standing around the counter waiting for a taste.

When we aren’t in the kitchen, you can find us huddled around the table for a game of pinochle. If you’ve played, you’ll know it is a game of strategy, partnership and a fair amount of bluffing. It is also the perfect lens for viewing family dynamics. You have to know when to lean on your partner and when to take a risk on your own. Sometimes you have a handful of aces, and other times you are just trying to make it through the round without losing points.

Life in a large family feels a lot like those card games. You learn early that you are part of a team. You learn to read the room, to laugh off the bad hand and to appreciate the luck of the draw. There is a specific kind of security in knowing that, no matter how the game goes, the same people will be sitting across from you for the next round.

Our music provides the soundtrack to it all. It’s a nostalgic mix of sounds from the 1920s, ‘30s, and ‘40s, which fills the gaps in our conversation and makes our house feel whole. There is a sense of history in those brassy horns and classic rhythms, and they serve as a constant reminder of the history that keeps us connected. We lean on those old melodies to keep us steady, find our rhythm, and remind us that we are all part of the same long song.

Ruth Wiseman is a Woodland Park native and a dual-enrolled high school student attending Pikes Peak State College