It's Mother's Day. Let's see what our favourite couples—yes, not just Ted and Tracy—were up to today, shall we?

Tracy stirred in bed, awakened by a familiar aroma wafting in the air.

"Coffee," she murmured happily to herself, eyes fluttering open, her head turning in the direction of the smell.

There was Ted, hanging by the bedroom entryway, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.

"God, I love you," she said as Ted walked over towards the bed.

"You talking to me or the coffee?" he asked teasingly.

She answered by grabbing one of the mugs and taking a sip. She had been good about not drinking coffee for a little while as she breastfed Penny, but she earned a full mug today after days of only occasionally stealing sips from Ted's.

"I thought so," he said, settling down on the bed next to her, careful not to spill his coffee. "Happy first Mother's Day, beautiful."

Tracy smiled. "Thank you, hon."

She'd only been a mom for 11 days so far. She clearly wasn't on par with Lily, who'd been at it for three years now, and knew much more than she. Some things she and Ted were still learning—and probably messing up at times—but other things were more instinctual.

She figured she was doing alright, though.

"Kid still asleep?" Ted asked, peering into the bassinet. "Yep, she's still asleep. How long do you think that'll last?"

Tracy chuckled. "She'll be up any minute now," she deduced. "God, I'm tired. Do we really have to go out today?"

It was a ritual, having Mother's Day breakfast with her family, and with her now being a mom, too, it was going to be an extra special event. It was just unfortunate that she had a days-old baby, was running low on sleep, and still hadn't deflated since the birth. The last thing she wanted was for her and Ted to get out of hibernation mode. She really loved spending all this extra time with him and Penny.

"Yep, we have to," he told her apologetically. "It's Mother's Day, you're a mother, ergo, we eat out on Mother's Day. Besides, your mom said so, and given I impregnated her only daughter out of wedlock—"

"She has no real issue with that," Tracy pointed out.

"—I need to do as she says," Ted finished.

On the upside, they didn't have to make the 45-minute drive to New Jersey; everyone had agreed to come down to Manhattan instead, to not put her and Ted out too much. She was grateful for that, at least.

"Besides, we need to go out, so I can give you your present for being the coolest, sexiest, most awesome mom in the world," he told her softly, reaching a hand out to brush her hair back. "And that can only happen if we get out of this bed."

"Ok, ok," she conceded, looking over at the bedside clock. "I'm hungry anyway. We still have an hour before we have to leave, though. Can we at least squeeze in a power nap before we go?"

Ted smiled. "I am totally up for that, I swear," he said. "But it really all depends on..."

As if on cue, Penny began to choke out a few tiny cries and then quickly began to wail.

Ted and Tracy groaned, and then looked at each other and burst out laughing. This was their life now; it was a sudden and jarring shift, but one that they had to adjust to fairly quick. "We'll sleep when we're dead," Ted liked to joke every time the baby cried out for her, which was every two hours or so. They were both exhausted, but Tracy wouldn't have it any other way.

"Alright," she breathed out, sadly handing her barely-touched cup of coffee back to Ted. "I'll give her breakfast, and then we can have our breakfast."

"Got it," Ted said as he climbed out of bed. "And when we come back home, you can rest, and I'll take over for a while."

Tracy laughed. "That's sweet, babe, but you don't have the boobs for it."

She knew Ted longed to have the same connection with Penny that she had. Tracy liked to tease that she worried she'd walk in on him one day holding the baby to one of his nipples. All joking aside, she knew her fiancé was as close to their daughter as he possibly could be; there was nothing lacking, and Penny was sure to grow up feeling loved by both her parents. And she made sure to remind Ted of that as often as possible.

"Don't remind me," he teased, giving her a wink before disappearing from the bedroom.

Tracy climbed out of bed as well, and reached into the bassinet for Penny, who quieted down a bit the moment she was picked up.

She may not have felt like a Best Mom Ever candidate quite yet, and probably didn't deserve any accolades so far (except for pushing an eight-pound baby with a large head out of her), but looking down at her daughter now, she vowed to do her best, to spend the rest of her life bettering herself as a parent, a spouse, and a human being, to someday make Penny proud of her.

"Lalalalalalalalalala!" Marvin was singing out as he marched around the kitchen, wildly shaking the tambourine he was clutching with both hands.

Lily smiled as Marshall frustratingly tried to grab the three-year-old boy, bringing him back to the kitchen table where she was already sitting. Daisy was tucked in her high chair, waving her arms in the air, amused at the spectacle before her.

"Marvin, c'mon, just like we practiced!" Marshall was saying, exasperated, as he plopped him down into his chair. Marshall then grabbed the guitar that was resting against the table, and picked it up, quickly tuning it a bit, before he cleared his throat and flashed Lily a sweet smile.

"Good moooorning sweet moooommy, the sun rises for you," he began to croon, casting a glance over at Marvin, who was still happily shaking that tambourine out of sync. "It's Mother's Day toda-ayyy, and we-eee love youuuuu!"

Lily clutched at her heart as she watched her boys perform their little show. She loved Mother's Day; and while this day felt different than every other day, it was the same uncontrollable chaos at breakfast like every morning. It was a given in their home—often messy, always loud—but she wouldn't have it any other way.

She often thought back to the happenstance of Marshall walking up to her door at college all those years ago, and all they'd gone through since that time: breakups and fights, secrets and lies, but also love and laughter, and moments big and small. If they hadn't gone through all that, those years of so many ups and a few downs, she wouldn't have this wonderful life right now.

"And Marvin says—" Marshall looked at the boy, who was more interested in his tambourine, as well as the pile of pancakes in front of him. "Buddy, that's your cue!"

Marvin just shook his head, dropped the instrument on the floor, and reached for a pancake with his bare hands, maple syrup starting to drizzle down his arm as he took a bite. "Mmm!" he mumbled, and then looked over at Lily proudly.

"Buddy! I told you: we need to be on our best behavior today!" he said sternly, then looked over at Lily helplessly. "I'm sorry, baby. I had this whole thing planned out... It was supposed to be perfect!"

It was funny how he didn't know. They were both far from perfect. And their life was far from perfect, when it came down to the actual definition of the word. Their world was messy. It was exhausting. And it was filled with crying one-year-olds and sticky toddlers.

"Oh, Marshmallow," she said softly, picking up Daisy from her chair. "It already is perfect."

Marshall beamed, a look of both joy as well as relief, clearly happy that he hadn't screwed up Mother's Day after all.

"I love you, Lilypad," he responded adoringly, hugging the guitar to his chest, gazing at her in a way that made Lily feel 18 years old again. "Happy Mother's Day."

Robin looked up from her phone, her important work email nowhere near as fascinating as the sight before her: Barney in an apron, holding a brimming tray of food. In his hands. It seems he had cooked. It was a very jarring sight.

She dropped her phone next to her in bed. "What's this?"

Barney looked down at the food in his hands and then back up at Robin. "It's breakfast in bed, Scherbatsky," he stated.

"I can see that. But what for?"

"What do you mean, what for?" he asked, walking towards the bed. "This isn't the first time I've made you breakfast in bed."

Robin gave him an incredulous look. "Um, yeah it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Barney, the only time we ever eat in bed is when you eat m—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" he said, sighing as he sat next to her in bed, handing the tray over to her. She had to admit, the eggs and bacon smelled heavenly. "But can't a guy do something nice for his wife every once in a while?"

"Of course he can," she agreed. "But on Mother's Day?"

Barney feigned ignorance. "It's Mother's Day? Really? Huh. Must've slipped my mind..."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Babe, we confirmed with your mom just last night that we were stopping by for Mother's Day lunch today."

"Ok, fine, you got me!" he cried, with a defeated wave of his arms in the air. "It's a Mother's Day breakfast! Happy?"

Robin beamed in satisfaction. "Very happy. And confused given, you know, I'm not a mom..."

She noticed the somber look on Barney's face as she said those words. They didn't talk often about the fact that she couldn't have kids; it was what it was. Robin had spoken to him at length after their engagement about it, that he was free to walk away at any time. But he always balked at her suggestion, telling her he loved her more than the idea of children. Which is why she knew that Barney was different than all the other guys before him, that he was the only one worth marrying. Because to Barney, the idea of a lifetime just the two of them was enough.

But that look on his face now, well, she wasn't sure...

"Barney," she began hesitantly. "Is that an issue now? Me not being able to have kids?"

His eyes widened at her words. "What?! Hell, no, Scherbatsky! I just thought... With Tracy just having given birth and all... Maybe you were feeling a bit, I don't know..."

She smiled sadly. "Feeling a bit left out?"

It was unusual, she had to admit, to now be surrounded by three Eriksen and Mosby children. Kids had never been part of her plan—she admittedly never liked them much, not even when she was a kid—so it surprised her when she was told she couldn't have any. She always liked that the decision to not have kids was hers alone, but to find out that the decision was ultimately out of her hands... It was shocking. And saddening.

But Robin had come to accept it. And while watching Lily and Tracy become parents was bittersweet, she reveled at being Aunt Robin. And her husband loved being Uncle Barney, too. She felt included, and she felt as if she had a large, loving family. And that was more than enough.

He nodded now, reaching over to steal a slice of bacon. "It's just, there should be a Happy Aunt's Day. Or a Happy Awesome Woman's Day.. Or a Happy Sex Goddess' Day... I just don't want you to have any regrets. I want you to have everything." He took a bite of the crispy strip.

"I have absolutely zero regrets," she said softly, leaning over to give him a soft kiss. "I may not have everything, but I love my life, Barney. As for feeling left out, well, you are a master at coming up with your own holidays."

Barney's smile widened, and he was happy, all the way up to his eyes. "I am the master!" he agreed excitedly. He then had that look on his face, where a stroke of genius was forming in his head. "Happy... Not-a-Mother's Day, Robin!"

He laughed and then she laughed, shaking her head as she leaned in for another kiss. "I love you, Barney."

He smiled against her lips. "I love you, too."

END