Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I’d read so many mommy blogs and articles about how the second child was the hardest, from actually becoming pregnant to the pregnancy itself. And for Ethan and me, it had been the complete opposite. We’d tried for over a year before two pink lines had finally appeared on a test, and then I’d gone through hell, with around-the-clock nausea, iron deficiency, and craving everything that was bad for me. How Ethan had put up with my mood swings, I’d never understand. I would’ve left my cranky butt.
I smiled and smoothed down Jamie’s bed head while he poked at my belly and said, “Hi, hi, hi” to his sister.
She’d been our effortless surprise. So far, at least. We hadn’t dared to hope for a second little one. Then one day, I’d woken up nauseated. Ethan had run out to buy a test, and the rest was history. Almost no nausea after the first few days. Zero actual vomiting.
Ethan came over to us in the corner, and he had a decaf Diet Coke for me and a bowl of mashed-up banana for Jamie. We knew our son. He started screaming when hunger hit, and breakfast would probably be a while longer.
Ethan squatted down in front of us and poured my soda into a glass with ice before handing it to me.
“Hi, Dada!”
“You’re the best, hubby.” I took a sip and sighed with relief. So good. Perfect amount of ice too.
Jamie went back to rambling, and Ethan picked up new words like a pro.
“You made cookies all night?” he asked, pretending to be shocked. “Well, I sure hope you saved some for Daddy.”
Jamie beamed and held out his arms. “Dis many!”
“That’s a lot,” Ethan replied. He snatched up the boy and positioned him on his leg. “How about we go get some food in you? Mommy needs to rest for a bit.”
“B’nana!”
“Yeah, I got some banana for you to get all over your PJs.” Ethan chuckled and rose to his feet, but then he dipped down and smooched me on the forehead. And he spoke quietly. “I love the family chaos, but when I get you to myself tonight is when Christmas really begins.”
I giggled like a schoolgirl and smacked his arm lightly.
The next time the doorbell rang, it was my sister and Aiden arriving, and I was looking forward to a moment alone with Chlo. She had helped me get a memory book printed for one of my gifts to Ethan this year.
I’d titled it Let’s Be Honest.
He’d find cute couple stuff in there, photos of us, memories I’d written down, and one or two funny anecdotes I hadn’t shared yet. Such as the time I’d matched with him on Tinder by accident. Since he’d deleted those apps, he’d never discovered my faux pas, and now enough time had passed for it to be hilarious.
Knowing him, he’d eat that right up and feel ten feet tall.
If that didn’t work, I was also giving him the ultimate guys’ weekend. Ryan’s wife and I had put the whole thing together. We’d rented a luxurious cabin up in the mountains for the brothers and their closest friends. They could watch whatever games they wanted to, they could play poker, all meals would be catered and approved by sports fans, they’d have a box of nice cigars waiting for them, top-shelf whiskey and rum—the whole nine yards.
My husband could use a couple days of chill fun before our daughter got here, and he wasn’t great at taking time off to himself.
For as self-centered as he’d once been, or portrayed himself as, that man was so focused on the people he loved.
I’d made it my job to make sure he got every bit of the attention he paid me and others, and it was a position I planned to keep for as long as we lived.
He glanced over at me while he was helping Jamie by the coffee table, both of them surrounded by children who wanted the gift exchange to begin, and we shared a smile.
“I love you,” I mouthed.
His smile widened.
Yeah, I couldn’t wait for us to be alone tonight either.
We were awesome at working off calories together.