Page 173 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“Love you, Mommy,” Peyton throws her little arms around my neck and holds on tight.
I smooth back her dark ringlets and look into green eyes so much like my own. “Love you too, baby.”
Asher crawls up the bed and snuggles up next to me, his big brown eyes lighting up with his smile. He’s my little lovebug, the most affectionate of the four. I always worry that he has middle child syndrome, so I try to give him extra attention.
Being sandwiched between an overbearing big brother and two little sisters who are partners in crime is no picnic. I smooth my hand over the tufts of brown hair sticking up in all different directions and kiss his forehead.
Finlay jumps to her feet and does a little dance that shakes the whole bed, then falls onto her back, laughing. “It’s our birthday!”
Peyton claps. “And we’re having a circus.”
Yep, their third birthday party is going to be a circus. Literally. Because I’m married to a man who is so over the top and such a sucker for his baby girls that he hired a big top. The party company set it up in our backyard yesterday in preparation for the big event. Knowing Ridge, he’s probably invited the whole town.
A freaking big top.
“Are there gonna be tigers, Dad?” Eli asks, wedging his body between Ridge and me and spreading out like a starfish.
When Elijah was born, our very first baby, I read all the parenting books and tried to do all the right things. Likenotletting him sleep in our bed. Ridge got rid of all the books and bought a bigger bed to accommodate a family of six.
When I got pregnant for the third time, I told Ridge, “This is it. No more kids.”
But the universe had the last laugh and gave us twins. Life throws curveballs all the time. You can’t plan these things or dictate how your life will turn out. You just have to hang on and enjoy the ride.
So now I don’t bother with any of the parenting advice. Like Ridge said, “Our only job is to love them and do our best to raise good men and strong women.”
So, that’s what we try to do. Even on the days when I’m sleep-deprived after working three twelve-hour shifts in the ER, I try my best to be there for them. To show my kids and my husband that I love them more than life itself.
“I hope there’s an elephant,” Asher says, drawing an elephant in the air with his index finger.
My head shoots up, and I give Ridge a warning look. “No tigers, no elephants, andno clowns.”
He snorts. “What’s a circus without clowns?”
Clowns are creepy, and nobody will ever convince me otherwise. “I swear to God, if I see a clown today, I will….” Ridge pops a brow. I clamp my mouth shut because I’m a grown woman with sons. I can’t go around threatening to kick anyone in the balls anymore. Not in front of the kids, that is.
Finlay scrambles off the bed, and I grunt when her foot jabs my ribs. “I’m hungry.” She jumps from the edge of the mattress and lands on her hands and knees, but she doesn’t cry. Not a peep. She gets to her feet and brushes it off. Finlay is tough as nails. “Can we have pancakes?”
“With chocolate chips,” Eli says, jumping off the bed and heading for the door. The others follow the leader into the hallway just as if he’ll make them the pancakes. He’s not. That’s Ridge’s job.
“Come on, Daddy!” Finlay yells. “We want pancakes.”
I smirk and elbow him in the ribs. “Better get to work, hotshot. Your kids want pancakes.”
“What about their mommy? What does she want?”
“Peace and quiet and some sleep.”
“Not happening for at least fifteen years.” He tugs me off the bed and pulls me against him, his hands cupping my butt cheeks and squeezing. He has that look in his eye, the same look that made me a mother of four. “Or maybe longer….”
I give him a playful shove, but my voice is firm. “No more kids.”
“We’ll see about that.” He leaves me with a kiss, and I roll my eyes as he swaggers out the door.
That man. He always gets his own way.
Sometimes it’s exhausting dealing with four kids, a demanding job, and a husband who believes that bigger is better and more is more.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
