Page 85 of 5+Us Makes Seven

Well, almost.

Twenty-seven

Natasha

I was ecstatic that the nanny was sticking around, because taking care of five children was a lot. Between feeding and changing two of them and chasing the other three around, I was in a constant state of sweating. Isabelle had become a massive part of how our family dynamic worked. I was glad it was working out with her, because I was in dire need of help.

Though I would never admit that to Carter.

We stayed in the hospital for five days with the babies before we were sent home. Carter had taken two months of paternity leave to be with all of us and help out while I continued to recuperate. And he was a major help. I was trying to increase my milk supply with specialized teas and cookies as well as pumping regularly, which meant I couldn’t always attend to the twins every time they cried. I was on a strict schedule so that hopefully I wouldn’t be the only one having to feed these two milk guzzlers.

But once he went back to work, the pressure was felt.

Once I got my supply up and was able to fill the freezer with milk, I started getting a little more lenient with my schedule. I was willing to let Carter handle a couple of the night feedings and Isabelle convinced me on a couple of occasions to spend the evening with Carter while she tended to all of the kids at bedtime. It was nice, having that little slice of alone time with him.

But I knew he was craving more.

The twins were three months old and we were finally finding our footing with having five kids. With Clara in full-time school, it helped to even out the older kid’s schedules a lot. Which meant that during the day, there were only two babies to run after.

And most of the time, they were napping.

“Natasha?”

“Carter? What are you doing home so early?” I asked.

“Got finished with work early, so I figured I would come home.”

“Well, don’t yell too loudly. I just put Rachel and Michael down for their naps.”

“How are they today?” he asked as he kissed my cheek.

“They’re doing okay. Though it’s about time for me to pump again.”

“Breasts hurting?”

“A bit,” I said

“So, don’t get mad, but I made a phone call today.”

“Is this one of those moments where you corner me while I’m pumping so I can’t get up and leave?”

“Possibly, but just hear me out,” he said.

“What did you do?”

“I know you’re wary about leaving the kids at the house for an evening, but I called my mother.”

“Carter, come on. We’ve talked about this.”

“She’s going to come over here to give Isabelle some time off, and it’ll give us some comfort so I can take you out. If you don’t want to think about it in terms of us, then think about Isabelle. Don’t you think she deserves the break?”

“Really? You’re guilting me with our nanny?” I asked.

“Don’t you want to get dressed up and go out and have a nice adult night without having children attached to you?”

“Do you not count as a child?” I asked with a grin.

“We’ve hardly had a date since you got back from Africa. The last time we truly had some alone time-”

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