Our Life After

Ready For a Baby

*Katniss's POV*

We drive into town in the next few days to buy paint for the baby's room, clothes, diapers, bottles, and pretty much everything you could possibly need for a coming baby. We arrive at the paint store to choose colors, and we haven't really talked about it yet.

"What colors would you like?" Peeta asks me.

"I'm not sure. I haven't thought too much about it. But I think we should do some.sort of pattern on the walls, make it look nice, so she'll like it when she gets older too." I reply.

"How about this yellow?" He holds out a pale, but springy yellow paint card. "We could do this for a base color with something else on top."

"Ooh! I like that! I also like this blue though..." I say as I hold out a pastel sky blue card.

"How about this. We do the walls in this yellow. Then on top we do a white fence design, with blue flowers and vines 'wrapped' around the fence?"

I've started getting very emotional, so just the thought of this design on my daughter's bedroom walls brings tears to my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I don't mean to cry. Just my crazy hormones. I think that would be lovely."

So we buy the correct amount of paint and spend the rest of the day shopping. When we get home, I am WORN OUT. Unbelievably tired. So I sit on the couch and put my feet up. I glance at the clock. It reads 3:30.

"Peeta, do you want to start on the room tonight?" I ask.

"You go get in bed. You look tired. Don't worry about it, I just want you to get plenty of rest."

I sleep through the night, because Peeta never wakes me up. But I'll admit, sleeping from 3:30 to 8:00 feels great. That's like, a lot of sleep. I wake up and walk downstairs to find Peeta looking really tired. I hope he didn't have any horrible nightmares.

"Hey," I say, "Are you alright?"

"I kept waking up from terrible nightmares, Katniss, so I stayed up most of the night painting."

At this I give him a kiss and go to see the baby's room. All 4 walls are painted yellow, and the tape is up to outline where the fence will go. I come back downstairs.

"Peeta, it looks beautiful."

Thank you, love. What would you like for breakfast?"

After breakfast, we finish painting the room. I sit down on the couch, and Peeta sits next to me, sort of slouching over from the sleep deprivation. When he falls on my lap asleep, I allow him to stay there. I brush his hair back and feel lucky to have him. I wish more people could have a man like him.

He is always there for whatever you need. You never wonder if he's smarter than you, because you know he is. He is also, might I add, very nice to look at. He's very handsome, and he's the perfect husband. I love him, and I am so lucky to love him. He will be the perfect father.

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