“What were we thinking having another kid?”
“Call it a temporary lapse of insanity.”
“We already had Anya, why did we need another baby in the house-- two for that matter.”
“That’s the type of people we are.”
“Remind me never to listen to you again.”
“Thanks dear,” I commented picking up the screaming baby and holding her to my chest. I bounced up and down. “What’s wrong Cris?” I begged of her. Her face was twisted and red, tears streaming down her small cheeks. “Crisanthee, come on.” I walked her around the room. “You’re going to wake up your sister.”
“Too late,” Clare commented dryly as the other baby started yelling. I leaned the back of my head against the cool wall and banged it twice. “Taylor, stop it,” Clare hissed.
I walked towards the crib and gently scooped up the other child, holding her to my chest with the other arm. “It’s almost time to pick up Zoë from school,” I told my wife. “I’ll take them with me.”
“Zoë wanted you to take her to the stable after school,” Clare reminded me. She was holding on to the edge of the crib for support. She looked pale, weak, and had bags under her eyes. The babies had been born less than a week ago and neither of us had had more than two hours of sleep each night since Clare and the girls were released from the hospital. During the daytime it was just Clare, Anya, the twins, and I at home because Zoë had school, but Anya slept or played with her toys while watching Sesame Street. Clare and I spent most of the time feeding, bathing, or calming down the two newest Hansons.
I looked down at the two red faces on my shoulder, their mouths wide open and
wet cheeks, tiny hands beating at my shoulders. “They’ll just have to come,” I announced to my wife.
“They can’t,” she sighed. “Taylor-”
“We need you to sleep,” I said firmly. I walked over to her and gently kissed her cheek. “I’ll drive them around for awhile and see if it calms them down. If by the time Zoë’s in the car they haven’t stopped I’ll just have to tell Zo that Daddy will take her to visit the horse another day.”
Clare was shaking her head disapprovingly. “She hasn’t been to see the horse in a week, Taylor, she’s going to be upset at you.”
I bounced my daughters lightly but they continued to cry and hit my shoulder. “You’re right, but that’s the chance I have to take. She’s not the only kid in this house anymore, and she’s going to have to accept that.” My wife sighed and turned to the dresser, still grasping onto Crisanthee’s crib. I lightly kissed Lorelai’s forehead and then Crisanthee’s. “Daddy’s taking you for a ride,” I told them softly. “A nice, slow ride to pick up your sister.” My two babies could care less what I was saying and continued to wail.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Clare asked me. Her voice was full of exhausted worry. “I mean, taking two newborns out in this weather?” Her eyes were cast towards the dreary window. The weather was horrible, she was right. It was extremely cold outside, colder than usual for early February. The sky was overcast with clouds, snow clouds, the kind of weather which would send Zoë home from school praying for a snow day the next morning.
“We’ll be fine,” I assured my wife over the loud shrieks. I held the tiny babies
closer and bounced them gently a few more times. “Mom sent those snow suits. I’ll bundle them up. Clare, you need sleep and that’s the end of it.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead once more. “Let me take care of the children and you take care of yourself. I’ll be so much happier to see you rested. You will be too. Trust me.” She nodded, surrendering to my valid observation. I started out the door.
“Bundle up,” she called to me from the bedroom. “Mittens, hoods, everything, OK?”
“I will,” I shouted back, stopping at the top of the stairwell. “They’ll be so bundled up you won’t even be able to recognize them as Cris and Rory, just Pink Bundle and Yellow Bundle.”
Clare stuck her head out the room and smiled at me, a glint of pride in her eyes. She winked at me and said, “Jord, I was talking about you.”