Love Lasts Forever

rejuvenating weekend

I brace myself against the kitchen counter, the smell of pretend cookies wafting through the air, mixed with the sound of Taylor and Nico's escalating cries. They've spotted the beloved koala toy, and my heart sinks a little at the thought of what's to come.

"Tay, no! It's mine!" Nico wails, his tiny fists shaking in defiance.

"No! Koala!" Taylor screeches, clinging to the left paw of the plush toy as if it's her ticket to world domination.

"Demi!" I call out, hoping my two-year-old will rise to the occasion.

"I'm baking, Mommy!" she replies earnestly from the play kitchen, her brow furrowed in concentration while she stirs an imaginary pot. "Cookies! Poopy cookies!"

"Poopy cookies?!" I can't help but let out a laugh, but it quickly fades as Sabrina and Victor start babbling nonsensically in the living room, their giggles turning into a wrestling match over a soft blanket.

"Okay, guys! We need to play nice! Just five more minutes until snack time!" I try to reason, pushing my tangled hair back and stealing a quick glance at the clock.

"Mommy's tired!" I mumble, rubbing my eyes. I love my babies, but heck, this is exhausting.

Just then, Charlie walks through the front door, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Hey, Supermom, how goes the battle?" he grins, shrugging off his jacket like he hasn't just spent a grueling day at work. He's utterly charming, as always.

"Are you kidding?" I shoot back. "We're moments away from a full-on toddler riot! Please save me!"

"Alright troops! Let's settle this war, shall we?" he laughs, scooping up Nico and handing him a different toy, while his other arm wraps around Taylor. "What do you say, my two little warriors?"

"I not little!" Taylor declares, puffing out her chest for emphasis.

"Maybe not, but you're strong! And we all know who the real koala master is," Charlie winks, and I can see the twinkle in his eyes that only he has for our little army.

Demi suddenly appears, flour dusted on her nose. "I want a real cookie!" she pouts, glancing between us and the chaos.

"Who can blame you? I want one too! But until I get my cookie, I really need your help," I say, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Can you help me clean up?"

"Okay!" she squeals, and her two-year-old determination adds a sense of order to the turbulent chaos.

"Let's tidy up before snack time, team! Then it's cookies," Charlie announces, his playful authoritative tone acting like a magic wand.

And just like that, we enter a whirlwind of shoelaces, stuffed animals, and snack cups until the room transforms from a battlefield to a strangely organized play zone.

"Okay, snacking time!" Charlie cheers, and all five little faces light up.

"Snack! Snack!" they chant, their voices harmonizing perfectly.

"Happy family!" I muse, preparing some fruit. My heart swells, but exhaustion drapes over me like a heavy blanket.

Once the twins are settled in their high chairs, I turn to Charlie. "Guess what? You have ten minutes of my undivided attention before I collapse. What's up?"

"I've been thinking..." he starts, his tone playful yet sincere. "How about we get out of here for the weekend?"

My heart skips a beat. "What? Like, just us?"

"Yep! I've arranged for Mom to watch them. Just the two of us. A little getaway."

I stare at him; is he serious? "Where? What about..."

"Shh, don't worry about them," he reassures me, leaning in closer as if he's revealing a treasure. "Just you and me, somewhere cozy. Beach house, sunset views, good food... You in?"

"Yes!" I squeal, unable to contain my excitement. "I can't even... I need this!"

"Great. Pack your bags after they nap. This is our weekend!"

*next day*

Three hours later, the house is finally quiet. I make my final checks on the twins in their cribs, their soft breaths soothing me. I grab my suitcase and throw in a sundress, a sweater, and flip-flops. A glimmer of excitement dances through my chest.

Charlie meets me at the door, grinning as he drops a few last-minute items - sunscreen, a camera. "Ready?"

"Am I?" I laugh, throwing my arms around him. "Let's go!"

The drive feels surreal. The landscape rolls by as we leave our tiny kingdom behind. Conversations flow effortlessly, unshackled from the weight of diapers and tantrums.

"Remember our first trip to the beach?" Charlie asks, glancing at me sideways.

"How could I forget? You tried to surf and ended up face-planting in front of everyone," I chuckle, a wave of nostalgia spilling over me.

"I'm a pro now," he smirks, pretend-perfecting a surfing stance.

We arrive at the beach house just as the sun dips low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"This place is stunning!" I gasp, slinging my bag over my shoulder and stepping inside.

Charlie follows close behind, placing a soft kiss on my temple. "Welcome home, babe."

The next two days unfold like a vivid, dreamy tapestry. We linger over coffee, savoring the silence and the sea breeze while eating fresh pastries.

"Let's build a sandcastle!" I squeal suddenly, the child within me bubbling to the surface.

"Just like the old days?" he asks, already standing up with excitement.

"Exactly!" I say enthusiastically, racing down the beach with Charlie close behind, both of us laughing loudly, completely free.

We dig and sculpt, our hands sandy and raw, hilariously contorting the shapes of creatures we try to imitate. Nothing matters but this silly fun, reminiscent of our carefree days.

"Let's go swimming!" Charlie suggests, and before I can think twice, he hoists me onto his back, darting towards the water.

"Charlie! No!" I yelp, laughter spilling out of me as the cool waves greet us.

We plunge into the ocean, splashing playfully, giggling like teenagers. The world behind fades; our lives as parents forgotten.

"Look!" I manage to say between giggles, wiping water from my eyes. "We're all alone! It's us!"

"Just us," he agrees, pulling me closer. "And I never want it to end."

On our trip, time turns liquid and sticky like honey. We explore little café's, stroll along the picturesque boardwalk, and share languid meals as we lose ourselves in each other's eyes.

By sunset on our last day, we sit on the beach, our feet buried in the sand. It's a glorious moment, just Charlie and me, watching the sun set over the horizon, painting the world in vibrant pinks and reds.

"Do you think we can come back?" I ask softly, my head resting against his shoulder.

"Definitely. This needs to be our tradition," he whispers.

"Next time, though... maybe we should try to avoid all the surfing lessons," I tease, nudging him playfully.

"Deal!" he laughs, the sound dancing in the salty ocean air.

As the sun dips below the water and the stars begin to twinkle overhead, I know that this weekend getaway was exactly what we needed. A little slice of us amidst the beautiful chaos of parenthood. We leave the beach hand in hand, with hearts full and smiles wide