There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth,
Without any bread,
Whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.
Sometimes she gets so overwhelmed that she doesn't know what to do. Sometimes, when they're all vying for her attention, all shouting for her, mummummumMumMumMumMUMMUMMUM she just wants to scream and cry and send them all away to deal with their problems all on their own. Sometimes she wonders if she was crazy, when the Hogwarts letter comes and she has to buy all those things for one, for two, for three, for four. When she's standing in the middle of the aisle and knows she is going to have to multiply that sum by seven. Seven beds to make, seven mouths to feed.
But she never regrets it, not once, not even when Ronnie is crying because Ginny pushed him over ("No, Ginevra, you do not need to resort to violence.")("Fred, George, stop teaching your sister to push people."), or when Fred and George almost blow up the house ("How many times have I told you NO?!"). Not even when Bill comes home with that thing in his ear ("Bill, why ruin your handsome face like that?") or when Charlie leaves for so long ("you can't work closer to home?"). Sometimes she loses her temper ("HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR?!") but she always supports her children (for the most part).
She sees the pitying looks and hears the whispers and she knows what people think about her family, and a lot of times it bothers her, but then Bill or Charlie will make an unexpected visit, or Ron will give her an unexpected hug, or Fred and George will come up with something and show them to her first, excitedly, or Percy will take over and cook or clean or do something for her, or Ginny will curl up in her lap and tell her about her latest crush, and she forgets about those looks.
Because the truth is, "Mum, I need you!" is her favourite sound in the world.