TEN YEARS LATER
Kehlani
"Mommy."
"Mommy."
"Mama."
"Mama."
"Maaaaaaaaaaaa-"
I groaned, throwing the pillow over my head.
"Baby, please answer them," Robyn mumbled from her position on my side.
"No, I'm sleeping. You answer them," I mumbled back.
"Mommy!"
"Mommy!"
"Mama-"
"WE ARE UP! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
"Don't yell at my babies," Robyn warned.
"Tell your babies to let me sleep." I retorted.
"Mommy! The new baby comes today! Get up! Get up!" Kari, our youngest daughter, explained as she tapped against my arm.
"Rueben! Please get your sister!" I cried out to our oldest son.
He leisurely walked into the room and leaned against the door frame. "Children, leave our mothers alone." He said nonchalantly.
"Gee, you're such a big help." I rolled my eyes and sat up in bed. "Mama and I know the new baby comes today kids. Why don't you all go downstairs and we'll be down to cook breakfast, in a few minutes."
"You better not forget young lady," Rani had a hand on her hip and a finger pointed at me as she gave me a pretty convincing stare.
"Wow, you're hanging around Cameron way too much, go downstairs now." I shook my head.
"Yes Mama," She responded and her siblings followed her out of the room.
Robyn and I had a big family now. It had taken nearly two years for the adoption agency to approve us as adequate parents and allowed us to adopt Rueben, a light skinned, curly haired, boy with freckles covering his face. He was only three years old when we adopted him. He was now eleven years old. Our second child was Rani, a lively spirit with dark skin, bright hazel eyes, and deep dimples on her cheeks. We got her within four months of meeting her at the agency. She was a year old when we adopted her, she's now seven years old. Our third child was Keondre, a Samoan and Honduras mixed kid. He had long hair, beautiful mocha skin and a birthmark on the side of his neck. He was a quiet kid, always kept to himself. We adopted him 5 years ago, but he's also seven like his sister, Rani. Our youngest is, Kari, was a tiny ball of fire. She was blasian, with long curly hair. She's four years old and thinks she runs the house. She wants things done on her time. We adopted her when she was only a month old and we'd fallen in love the moment we'd laid eyes on her.
Today was the day out fifth addition to the family arrived. His name was Kyle. He was three years old and fit in well with our kids. They talked about him every day and had made lists of plans they each wanted to do with him.
Robyn and I were lucky to have such amazing kids, you never needed an alarm because, like clockwork, one of them was up early in the morning, whether it was a bad dream, they wet the bed, or we needed to check for monsters under the bed.
"Babe, rock paper scissors to see who has to make the food." Robyn was snuggled at my side.
"You always win," I rolled my eyes.
