Love Lasts Forever

morning chaos

The soft morning light sneaks through the drawn curtains of our bedroom, a gentle nudge against the lingering grip of sleep. I snuggle deeper into the warmth of the covers, my head resting comfortably on Charlie's chest. His heart beats steadily beneath me, a comforting reminder of our shared life, our family.

"Harper," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. "Why didn't we have just one baby?"

I can't help but chuckle, the sound coming out as a muffled giggle against his shirt. "That wouldn't be a very fun story, would it? Besides, can you imagine one without the other? Taylor and Nico are like peanut butter and jelly."

Charlie lets out a lazy laugh. "I guess that makes Demi the bread. And what about Victor and Sabrina? That makes us the crust. What a perfect sandwich!"

"Deliciously chaotic," I say with a smile. I lift my head slightly to look at him, his unruly hair sticking up in every direction, the boyish charm that stole my heart still very much alive despite the toils of parenthood. "You know, one of these days, we're going to wake up without the sound of toddlers in our ears."

"Maybe when they're fifteen," he replies, feigning a thoughtful expression. "But then we'll just have the sound of teenage angst instead."

"Right. No escape."

We share a laugh, and for a moment, it's just us—no chaotic symphony of children, just the gentle rhythm of two people in love, slightly weary but utterly content. But that tranquility is short-lived.

The moment I start to drift back into that cozy slice of oblivion, I hear the tell-tale rumble of tiny feet padding across the hallway. "Oh no," I groan, sitting up straight.

"Catch them before they reach the living room," Charlie says, rubbing his eyes. "I'll get the other two."

"Deal," I say, scrambling out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet in my flurry to get to the hallway before the chaos takes over.

As I venture out, I'm greeted by the sight of Taylor and Nico joyfully making their way toward wild freedom. Taylor, with her golden curls bouncing with every step, is trying to drag Nico along, who is already trying to reach for the box of crayons perched precariously on the coffee table.

"Taylor! Nico! Where are you going?" I call out, frantically trying to corral them back. Just then, a chorus of piercing screams fills the air from the nursery. Victor and Sabrina must have decided that it was their turn to join the chaos.

"Charlie!" I yell, now feeling the weight of the storm settling on my shoulders.

"I've got them!" he shouts back, his voice tinged with strained laughter.

I hurry toward the nursery, but before I can reach it, I see Demi wandering out into the hall, her sleepy eyes wide but already brimming with mischief. "Mama!" she chirps, and just like that, I am swept into the beautiful madness of my family.

"Demi! Can you help me with your siblings?" I plead, gesturing toward the nursery door. "The babies are in trouble!"

"I want cereal!" she shouts instead, her little hands on her hips, a miniature version of parental defiance.

"When we get everyone out of the cribs, alright?" I negotiate, and she gives me a nod of consent that feels more like a win for me than it probably should.

I burst through the nursery door to find Victor and Sabrina standing in their cribs, chubby little arms raised as if asking for rescue. "Okay, little adventurers, Mama's here!" I say, swooping in to scoop them up. They squeal and bubble with laughter, and just as I'm delving into the joyful chaos, Taylor and Nico enter the room, arms full of crayons.

"Look what we found!" Taylor says, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Crayons!" Nico copies her, holding them out like a trophy.

"Not on the walls, okay?" I remind them, my voice a mix of joy and panic. "Just the paper."

I start to change Victor's diaper while balancing Sabrina on my hip. Just as I'm making progress, I hear Taylor's voice commanding attention. "I want to color on the walls! Right now!"

"No, no, no!" I say in desperation.

Right then, Charlie bursts in, somehow managing to juggle the morning chaos. "What's all the ruckus, my little ones?" His bright smile floods into the room.

"Demi wants cereal!" she exclaims, excitement clashing with impatience.

"Cereal? I can do better than that! How about pancakes?" Charlie declares, and I can almost see the gears in Demi's head turning at the promise of fluffy goodness.

"Pancakes!" she cheers, and it's the perfect distraction.

"You're a genius," I whisper to him as I finally get Victor changed and place him on the floor with Sabrina. Their giggles mix seamlessly with the laughter ringing in from the living room.

I quickly change Sabrina, the process becoming almost second nature—swift yet gentle.

"Charlie, can I convince you to whip up an extra batch? I think they all woke up with a bottomless appetite." I glance back at the chaos slowly spilling into the kitchen—a sight of toddlers racing around in mismatched pajamas, paper scattered, crayons bouncing.

"Extra pancakes it is! This is my specialty!" he shouts merrily, while courageously attempting to wrangle the two twins into the high chairs.

I join him, strapping them in while trying to avoid pairs of small hands reaching for their breakfast before it's even made. "Just wait a few, you two! You'll love what's coming!"

"Why can't we help?" Taylor inquires, looking at her dad with wide, pleading eyes.

"Because this is a special secret," Charlie replies, winking. "And it's a surprise."

"Surprise!" I echo, the encouragement bubbling up.

The kitchen soon bursts into an organized pandemonium of laughter and aromas. While Charlie expertly flips pancakes, Demi climbs onto her chair, spilling a few toys onto the floor as she prepares to unleash her enthusiasm. "Mama, look at me go!" she squeals.

"Careful, my acrobat," I say, chuckling, as I tiptoe around toys, crayon-lined paper, and a rich smell wafting from the griddle.

With each flipped pancake and each happy scream from the kids, I feel the weight of the morning lift. Yes, the chaos is relentless; yes, the demands of our tiny family are sometimes overwhelming. But moments like these—the laughter, the tiny hands, the joy in their eyes—ground me. As our family tumbles together in the swirling arms of one morning, I understand that this chaotic, beautiful life with Charlie and our children means more than any poem could encapsulate.

"Hey, Harper," Charlie calls out, flipping a pancake. "Just how many pancakes do you think we can eat?"

"Let's find out!" I answer, my smile widening. Today, amidst the crying and laughter, the chaos of our twins, toddlers, and pancakes, I realize that I wouldn't trade a moment of this journey away. It's the sweetest madness, and it's mine.