I was so wrong about this being easy.
Carter had woken up crying for his mom at about three in the morning and would only go to sleep whenever I sang. If I stopped after assuring myself that he was finally asleep and I could go back to bed, he would start crying again. How did people do this?
After about an hour or so of doing this back and forth, he finally stopped. I laid him in my bed and smirked, pretty proud of myself before gently getting under the covers as not to wake him.
I wake up and imagine my momentary confusion when I see a toddler's face in front of mine. Oh. I think as yesterdays events come flooding back.
“Food?” Carter asks, blue eyes wide as I wipe the sleep from my eyes.
“Sure bud.” I pick him up and set him down on the hardwood floor and smile as he toddles out to the hallway. I laugh as I watch him go the opposite way of the kitchen.
“This way.” I say, guiding him back in the right direction.
“What do you want?”
“Milk!” He shouts and I comply, pouring it in one of the few plastic glasses I had. “Be careful, Carter. That doesn't have a lid.” He doesn't make any response, just pushes back his brown hair with the back of his chubby hands and takes a sip off of the straw in his cup.
Now food. Can toddlers eat cheerios?
Yeah, I think there was one doing it on that commercial one time. Cheerios it is. I dump a handful of the cereal on the table in front of him and go to get ready to go shopping with El.
When I come back Eleanor is already there, sitting in the chair next to Carter and listening to his toddler babble. Funny, he hadn't been that talkitive when it was just me.
“Hey.” Her head snaps up to me and she looks a little surprised and....guilty? Why would she be guilty about talking to my kid?
“You ready to go?” She laughs before saying, “Uh Niall, Carter needs to be changed.” Oh. I hadn't thought about that. I scramble to try to think of any way to get out of changing a diaper. I'd rather have a live grenade in my hand than a dirty diaper.
“I don't have any-”
“I brought some we had leftover from when Lou and I babysat Lux.”
“Well will you show me how?” Her smile broadens.
“Sure, Ni. Louis was the same way when we first helped out with Lux.”
“Okay so you undo these little sticky folds here and then you just.....” She trails off, showing me rather than telling me.
“Now throw this out please.” I pick up the old diaper and hold it arms length away from me as I walk to the trash. Carter laughs at my display from on the table where she was re-dressing him in his blue shirt and jeans. The clothes looked pretty worn.
“Now can we go?” She laughs and walks out to the car, leaving me to lock the front door behind us with a solid 'thunk'.
“So many beds.” I whisper to myself as we walk down the isle. There were wooden ones and brass ones and ones with toys and ones with padding and some that had throw blankets and just so many different beds! I need El, but of course, she told me to take Carter and look for a proper bed while she went to find a car seat. This is an isle to be revisited. I look to the list of stuff to buy that a nice cashier had given me when I had walked in, open mouthed as I saw shelf after shelf of baby products.
Sippy cups? That I can handle. I roll the buggy to the proper isle and just take my arm and sweep the entire row of cups into the cart. The benefits of being in One Direction; the money. The rest was great too though. The concerts, the lads, the fans. It is all amazing.
I head off to find those gerber snacks the cashier had suggested and feel like I'm being watched. Looking up, I spot a woman with a camera staring at Carter and I. Eff, I knew this stupid hoodie wouldn't be a good enough disguise. They must have followed us from when we stopped at the flat Lou and Eleanor shared to see what else leftover stuff from Lux they had.
I grab my phone out of my pocket and text El.
Paps are here. Checkout and meet me at my car.
Okay. She replies.
“Niall?” My head snaps up at the use of my name and I instantly regret it. The woman's eyes gleam as she calls someone on her phone and begins to shout questions at me.
I just jog, pushing the cart along to the checkout where I hurriedly set all of the items on the counter.
“Hurry please.” I tell the cashier and she does. I hand her the money and abandon the cart, opting for just carrying Carter and the bags of baby stuff.
I'm almost to my car when the flood hits.
“Niall, whose this?” “Is this your kid?” “Who's the mom?” “Niall, what's his name?”
I ignore them all, just unlocking my car and tossing the bags into the back while trying to fasten Carter in the already put together carseat. “I put it there.” El chimes from the front seat where shes trying to start the car. “I assumed the paparazzi would swarm you and I thought he would need a good seat if we were going to engage in a high speed race.” I chuckle humorlessly and finally get the clips to go together, buckling Carter in place.
“Niall-” I cut off whatever the question was by slamming the car door and jumping into the passenger seat.
“I hate reporters.” I murmer as I turn on the radio.
I'm in love with you and all your little things.
Oh, how ironic.
