April-

Tax day.  I was excited about our little deductions but Bill says we don’t get to claim them until next April.  I think it’s a government plot to reinforce the erroneous idea that babies are not human until they are out of the womb.  I mean, I have to feed them, pay for their medical care, purchase the things they’ll need for when they arrive, and all in nine long months before they get here, but they don’t exist and aren’t deductible until they’re born.  I can, however, give birth, and if the baby dies before the end of the year, I still get to claim them.  That just reinforces the appalling attitude our country has regarding the unborn and it angers me.

Bill was visibly touched when I introduced him to little David William.  We’ve taken to calling him Liam because Will sounds so old and William is too stuffy and we already have a Bill.  Chad laughs because we didn’t want matchy names like Dirk and Dick and we got Liam and Lucas anyway.

The look on Bill’s face as he held his little namesake was priceless.  I saw Chad swallow hard a few times.  I think Bill has finally moved from frustrated suitor to a ‘friend closer than a brother’.  I can see his comfort level has changed and now with the boys, I think we’ll see more of him.  That blesses me immensely.  I hated that awkwardness after Chad and I got engaged.

The little chaps are three weeks old and thriving.  Apparently, I do not have Mother’s milk supply issues.  We finally, to give me relief and give Chad a way to get to feed his sons, purchased a breast pump.  Yes, they make milking machines for humans.  It amazes me.  I was determined to milk myself but when I saw the difference between what I could express and what the machine managed to get, I decided to go with the machine.  I’d used it for a week before Chad came downstairs laughing.  He’d just lit the bathroom candle for me and then realized that I could always turn on the light since we have to leave the breaker on for the milking machine.  Oh, and he really hates how I call it that.  It’s so fun to tease him

My Chad is adorable with his sons.  He talks to them, sings to them, and already lectures them on how to treat their mother.  When they fuss at feeding, he reminds them to eat what they’re given without fussing and with thanksgiving.  I can’t help but think he’s being a little ridiculous, but it is charming nonetheless.  When they soil their diapers, he talks about how men don’t make extra work for their wives, sisters, and mothers and as his little men, he expects them to become efficient at doing all of their business in one diaper so that I have less to watch.  Hyserical.  Absolutely hysterical.

Yesterday was my first day alone.  Mom Tesdall stayed for almost two weeks and then Grandmom came for five days.  Yesterday I woke up to a house that was empty.  I now understand mother’s slightly desperate tone in her early journals.  It isn’t easy doing all of this work when you have babies clamoring for food, dry diapers, and cuddles.  I woke up, fed all of us, and was ready to go back to bed.  However, Petra and Repetra both expected me to get out there and milk them.  Chad didn’t get off until eight so the job was mine.  I felt strange leaving the babies in their crib while I ran out to do it but they slept through it just fine.

We weeded the garden yesterday afternoon.  I’ve discovered that their little car seats are nice for them out there.  They can sit comfortably and watch me and be shaded by the sun.  I have a very fine mist spray bottle that I squirt them with when I feel hot and it seems to keep them quite comfortable.  Chad suggested I squirt down the shade really well so I’ll try that next time.

I am becoming much more efficient in my work.  We’ve always taken our time, done the job, moseyed along as we weeded, cleaned, or worked with the animals but now I have to get the job done, get it done right, and as quickly as possible in order to be available to the lads when they need me.  It makes some jobs less enjoyable but I’ve learned that it really helps with the ones I tend to drag out due to dislike.  For example, I’ve never cared much for weeding and would sit out there for hours picking them one at a time, dumping them in the bucket, carrying the full bucket to the burn pile… Only if I planned fishing was weeding done quickly.  I have also adjusted what I do when in order to maximize the things I like the most and expedite those I don’t.  Laundry on the line is such a good prayer time for me that I don’t want to rush through it.  So, I chose to work very swiftly in putting the clothes up, but I take my time bringing them down and folding each one as I put it in the basket.  The little diapers flapping on the line look so charming I’ve taken half a dozen pictures of them already.  Mom thinks I’m nuts.

She’s been invaluable to me.  She came for two days after Grandmom left in order to be here but not do anything.  Occasionally she’d speak up but she resisted the urge to jump in and help and just gave input.  It was wonderful.  I know it must have been terribly difficult not to pick up the babies and hold and cuddle them but she didn’t.  She was just there in case I needed her.

Mom also asked me about my recovery.  She was concerned that it’d take me longer to recuperate after the D&C (I need to look up what that means) but I think it actually helped.  When I came home from the hospital, I was able to quit using those huge paper pads and go back to my nice comfortable flannel ones.  Now, the only time I have any spotting is if I overdo something.

I’m wearing my early maternity clothes.  To be honest, I’m a little disgusted with them.  How can I still look so pregnant!  Isn’t it a bit ridiculous?  I’m already down five more pounds but that still leaves me at twenty pounds overweight.  I feel huge.  Chad says I’ve discovered American female vanity but honestly, I mostly object to the waste of perfectly good clothing in my closet and how difficult it is to wash dishes in my deep sink with all that blob around my gut.

I hear Lucas.  Right on schedule.  Time to eat and again, I didn’t take my nap as I should have.  Maybe if Chad gets home before he’s done, I’ll ask papa to feed Liam for me.

Chad whistled low as he read Willow’s take on those early weeks of motherhood.  To watch her now, she’d always done her work with a baby in one hand, and one nearby.  Her birthday was approaching fast.  He wanted to do something special for her twenty-fifth birthday but had no idea what to do.  At four months old, the little tykes were too small to be left overnight with his mother… or were they?  Perhaps…  He shook his head.  Forget Willow, he wasn’t ready to leave them.

Willow’s voice called him to dinner.  “Coming!”  He stepped inside the boy’s room, checked to see that they were still sleeping, and hurried downstairs.  Willow would have a list a mile long for them to try to get through in the next two days.

Omelets and muffins sat on the table but the kitchen was still cool from the night’s refreshing rain.  “Cook in the summer kitchen?”

“The little tykes have a harder time cooling off than we do.  I thought it’d be nice to keep the house cool for them today.”

“I was thinking of your birthday…”

“Me too.”

“Really?”  Chad had never seen her show much of an interest in the day.  From his reading of Kari’s journals, he’d decided it had started at her death because Kari wrote of birthdays as delightful holidays and special surprises.

“I wondered if maybe your mom—“

“Not leave the lads!”  He couldn’t believe it.  He’d been sure that she’d object even if he wanted to do it.

“Not really leave them.  I thought maybe we could get a nice room in the city.  Leave them with Grandmom and Granddad for a few hours, go get them, take them to your mother’s, stay for a while, leave them while we go get dinner and then maybe she or Cheri could bring them to us when it got time for their last feeding.”  She shook her head.  “No, that’s too late to ask—“

“She’d love it.  Mom’s been dying to have them again but she doesn’t want to butt in.  She’s really a little over careful after the last time she stepped on toes.”

Willow’s expression fell from pensive to dismay.  “I didn’t make her feel like—“

“No, Mom’s good at guilt when she gets on a roll.  She knows she was way out of line and she wants to stay on the straight and narrow so to speak.”

“We can go?”

“I’ll see if Caleb thinks Ben is ready to be responsible for all of the animals.  If not, we’ll have to see if Charlie might be willing to come out.”

“Ryder can come on a weekend.  He doesn’t care much for the animals but he’ll do it in a pinch.”  She polished off her eggs and popped the last bite of muffin in her mouth.  With eyes that reminded him of the Willow he’d discovered after those awful months of her deepest grief—a gleam of mischief glistening in one corner—she jumped up with a new spring in her step.  “Oh this’ll be so much fun!  Where should we go?  It’s silly to take the boys with us, isn’t it?  I mean, what on earth would they get out of a trip to the zoo at their age?  Or a museum… they wouldn’t get anything out of that.  Our dinner…”  She stood at the sink thinking as she mused aloud.

“They’ll just sleep through it.  Let the grandma’s have a turn with them and when they get two or three, we’ll take them.”

She spun in place, a huge grin on her face.  “We’re really going to the zoo!  I can show you the pandas.  They’re so huge!  And the penguins are so funny…”

Chad didn’t have the heart to remind her that he’d seen them many times.  He also made note that zoo was what she wanted the most.  “What about dinner?”

“I want an excuse for a new dress but I don’t want something stuffy like The Oaks.  Maybe we should stay and eat in Westbury.  It’d be less hassle…”

“That’ll work.”  He couldn’t resist a chance to tease.  “You know, Mom wouldn’t care if we just stayed there…”

Before she realized he was joking, Willow shook her head.  “But I thought it’d be nice—“  A glance at his twisted smile sent her eyes rolling.  “You’re just terrible.”

“And you like me that way.”

“I do.  Strange isn’t it?”  Willow snapped her dish towel at him as she left the kitchen to answer the call of her sons.  Lucas’ hearty wail informed her that the boys were hungry and most likely quite soggy.

***

“A picnic?”  The morning had been busy with basic chores but much less work than Chad had expected.

“I’ve worked hard all week fixing fences, weeding, picking, cleaning, laundering, and so forth so we could enjoy your day off.  Don’t you want a chance to prove your superiority as a fisherman or are you just scared you’ll be upstaged by a girl.”

“But you wanted to make a dress…”

Willow shook her head bemused.  Even as he’d spoken, he’d hurried up the stairs to retrieve his tackle box.  If she followed, which she couldn’t with one milk-drunk baby tucked into her crossed leg and the other happily nursing and working hard to ‘tie one on’ himself, she’d find him critically examining every fly he owned for the best ones before he grabbed the lot and went to change clothes.

A drawer banged.  There it was; he was changing.  He’d come down in swim trunks, holey t-shirt, and Rockland Warriors baseball cap.  He’d forget to put sunscreen on his ears and when the sun shifted, the tops would get red.  She needed to make him a fishing hat.  Her floppy sisal hat dropped onto her head.

“Thanks.  I worry about the amount of sun I get in this room…”

“Sandwiches?  Should I make some?”  Chad ignored her teasing.

“They’re in the ice box in the cellar.  We need to clean the kitchen box.  I didn’t get ice in it quickly enough and there’s mold in there.”

“Oh ugh.  I’ll do it.  You shouldn’t be breathing that stuff.”

“It’s just mold.  I’d have done it already but I need bleach and I’m out.”

Every time she ran out of something, Willow felt inadequate.  How had her mother noticed how much of everything to order and keep ahead of everything?  They’d been through so many bleach tablets since the boys were born.  She’d asked Chad to bring home bleach and he’d arrived with a bottle of liquid bleach.  It seemed horribly wasteful to her and she hadn’t asked again.

“I’ll bring some home—“

Willow bit her lip.  She had to say something.  “Chad, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Why not?  We need it.  I don’t mind.”  A look at her face enlightened him—or so he assumed.  “It can’t be that much more expensive.  We’ll order right away but you need it in the meantime.”

“We don’t have room for plastic bottles and I can’t burn them.  We need to order tablets.  I can let it dry out in the meantime.”

“What about the boys’ diapers?”

She groaned.  The week she’d skipped bleach, the diapers had been dingy and a few of the stains hadn’t washed out properly.  “I guess.  Thanks.”

“I’ll take the empty bottles to Adric.  He’s a survivalist type.  He can fill them with water for his pantry.”

Changing subjects, Willow pointed to Liam.  “He’s about done.  Can you get the sandwiches and the cut fruit?  Oh, and there’s a jar of fruit tea down there.  Can you get that too?  I’ll get the—“

“You’ll sit there and hold my children.  What else do you want?”

In twice the time she thought it should take, they finally set off for her favorite fishing place.  Each of them carried a baby, a pole, and under Willow’s arm was a rolled up blanket and in her hand she held a bucket with most of their lunch in it..  Chad carried the tackle box in his ‘free hand’ while trying to juggle the baby and avoid whacking Willow with his pole.

Willow commented on how different this walk was from most of their fishing treks.  She started to complain that she missed walking hand in hand with him feeling that closeness and camaraderie when Chad dropped his pole.  “This is insane.  We should have brought the cart.”

“I could go get it if you’d like…”  Her lack of enthusiasm was not lost on him.

“You wait here.  I’ll go get it.”  Chad dropped everything but Lucas and hurried back to the barn.

“Hey, Liam and I are going to keep walking.”

All the way to the hole, Willow told Liam about her fishing dates with Bumpkin and how Othello was too noisy to bring.  “Saige was a good dog though.  She didn’t make much noise.”  Liam’s toothless grin was the baby’s only reply.

At her favorite tree, Willow was forced to lay the baby in the grass in order to spread out the blanket.  “Now I wonder if Mother did this all those years ago.  Do you think so little man?  I think she must have at least once.”  The blanket snapped in the breeze as she spread it out over the ground.  “There.  Now, we’ll just sit here and look cool and refreshed when your daddy arrives.  Do you think I should pour him something to drink?”

In spite of its rocky beginning, Willow’s picnic was exactly what they needed.  While the babies slept, they fished catching little in the midday sun, and they talked about everything from their expanded operations to further plans for her birthday.  Both of them would have stayed out there for hours but Liam’s diaper demanded a change, Lucas insisted that it was dinner time, and the magic of the afternoon was lost in the shuffle to make the boys happy again.

Late that night after babies slept curled next to each other in one corner of the crib across the hall, Chad brushed an escaped lock of hair from her face and tucked it into her braid.  “Thanks for the picnic, Lass.  Man I needed that.”

“It was refreshing, wasn’t it.  Made all that extra work this week worth it.”

“Don’t do that too often.  As much as I liked it, I don’t want a worn-out wife.”

“Yes m’lord.”

“Watch it, or I’ll start calling you Sarah.”

Her laughter, something he never tired of hearing, rang out before she clamped her hands over her mouth giggling.  “It’s like I don’t want to sleep or something.”

Seconds passed.  Willow thought Chad had fallen asleep and rolled over to get more comfortable.  His voice made her jump.  “What were you talking about earlier?  You said something about walking being different, but I dropped my pole.  I kept meaning to ask what you meant.”

“I just missed the way we used to be able to—“  Suddenly, she felt silly.  “Oh never mind.”

“No, what did you miss?”

“We just used to walk together.  I missed holding your hand and talking about things.  This time it was just different.  Not bad—different.”  She sighed.  “Is it terrible that I’m really looking forward to our time alone in the city?”

In that one sentence, Chad heard all she didn’t say and in the darkness that not even the moon reached, he grinned.  “From where I’m sitting—“

“Laying,” she corrected sleepily.

Conceding, he amended his statement.  “Laying, it sounds just about right.”

“Good.  Night.”

“Goodnight lass.”  Seconds ticked by before he added, “Goodnight John Boy.”