I watch as Monica slathers sunscreen down Jack's legs, rubbing it into his little feet, before moving over to Erica, smoothing the lotion onto her chubby little cheeks.
"I don't think sunscreen wears off in fifteen minutes, hon," I mention, even though I know it's probably pointless.
"It doesn't hurt to be careful," she answers, moving down the baby's arms.
"I agree, but it was seriously only fifteen minutes ago you put the latest layer on them. Never mind that they're wearing hats, the tops of their carriers are pulled up, and they're under an umbrella. This practically looks like night to them at this point."
She gives me a dirty look, but stops with the sunscreen. I rub her back soothingly, and she shakes her head, mostly at herself I think.
"Are we shocked that I'm an overprotective mother?"
I chuckle and shrug. "Not really. But you're a really great mom, too, if that helps."
I see her shoulders relax and she leans against me, smiling. "It helps." I kiss her hair and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
I hear giggling and we both turn our heads to look—Ross and Rachel each have one of Emma's hands, swinging her back and forth, the little girl having the time of her life, Ben running in circles around them.
"Won't be long before ours are big enough for that."
"Don't even think it." She sounds horrified at the thought of our twins getting older, and I can't say as I blame her; they're already just over two months old. They look less like teeny-tiny newborns and more like itty-bitty people now.
Erica's eyes fly open suddenly, and Monica and I both tense, waiting to see if she'll scream bloody murder again. Instead, she just studies us, sucking at her pacifier studiously. Jack sleeps on, oblivious.
"What do you think she sees right now?" I wonder.
"Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever it is, it's something familiar. We're the faces that have been staring at her since she was born."
The giggling grows closer, and Ross, Rachel, Ben, and Emma plop down on the sand beside us. Rachel cringes when she sees Jack still sleeping. "Sorry," she whispers.
Monica rolls her eyes, waving her away. "They sleep through pretty much anything."
"Where are Mom and Dad?" Ross asks, grabbing the sunscreen from Monica, spreading it over Emma's cheeks and nose.
"At the house, heating up a couple bottles of formula for the royal couple over here," I answer. "Any moment now, her majesty will demand to be fed. She's good at getting Jack all riled up, too. It's easier to get them preemptively."
"I can't imagine this little sweetie pie getting anyone riled up," Rachel says to Erica, her voice bordering on baby-talk, as she gently grabs her little foot. Erica's eyes shift to Rachel's face, sucking on her pacifier more intently.
"That's because you guys haven't spent a lot of time with them yet," Monica answers, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "She's trouble."
"And Jack isn't?" Ross asks, disbelievingly.
Monica shakes her head. "Not yet. He sleeps. He's good at it. It's his favorite pastime. When he cries, it's usually for a reason. When Erica cries…well, we're figuring out it's usually to see how fast she can get her daddy to fall at her feet."
I grin, unabashed. My tiny little daughter has me wrapped around her even tinier little fingers. "I'm whipped by the women in my life; I'm not ashamed."
My wife links her fingers through mine and leans over, pressing a kiss to my arm. I lean my head against hers, exhaustion settling over my body.
"Sorry if we're keeping you awake," Ross says sarcastically. I feel Monica's head turn, and I can only imagine the look she's giving him right now; suddenly, he's very interested in his own children.
"You're kidding me, right? You do realize we have two of these, don't you? Between the two of us, we get maybe five hours of sleep a night, and none of it is consecutive. This is the first time we've been able to take them anywhere longer than a few hours, and it's the first time we've seen you guys in over a month. We are doing our absolute best right now, okay?" I can hear the strain in Monica's voice, the fatigue evident with every move of her body.
The rest of us sit in silence for a few moments, Emma oblivious to the tension, Ben looking at us cautiously.
"It was nice of Jack and Judy to arrange this little get-together, wasn't it?" I ask suddenly, trying to be enthusiastic.
Rachel clears her throat, nodding. "It was a great idea to get us all together like this."
Genuinely, it was a very nice idea on the part of Monica's parents to invite us all to their beach house for the Fourth of July weekend; they wanted to be able to see all of their grandchildren at one time, and since the four of us have barely been able to find time to be in one county at the same time, we all jumped at the chance. For the most part, the weekend has been nothing but nice, until Ross makes little snips at his sister, making her hackles go up.
The stress of parenthood is greater than either of us expected. It's wonderful and amazing, but just completely outside the realm of anything either of us has done. The strain we're feeling is pretty intense, and the lack of sleep isn't doing us any favors.
That's not to say that our marriage has been strained; aside from us being a little quicker to snap at each other on occasion, we still feel pretty solid. And Monica really is the most amazing mother ever; she moves from one baby to the other constantly, picks up fallen pacifiers without looking, wipes mouths, changes diapers, soothes tears, all while looking blissfully serene. She truly was born to do this.
I just try to keep up, hoping I won't screw them up too badly. As long as I get up with them in the middle of the night and love them, Monica seems pretty happy with how things are going.
Unfortunately, she had to go back to work a few weeks ago, and I think that's been eating at her more than anything. She doesn't want to give up working, but I watch her heart break every time she has to leave the twins. To have her brother pick on her because she's tired is probably enough to push her over the edge, especially when we've only seen him a handful of times since moving out to Westchester. She doesn't like to admit that it upsets her as much as it does, and we both know it's tough to coordinate all of our schedules now, but she's been particularly offended that Ross hasn't come to see us more.
I see Monica's parents walking down the beach toward us, bottles in Judy's hand, bags of what will probably wind up being snacks in Jack's, and I feel a sense of relief at the prospect of the tension breaking.
Rachel smacks Ross's arm. "Sorry, Monica," he mumbles, and Rachel looks over at us sympathetically. I know she understands what we're going through, being thrown into the deep end herself not that long ago, and I think our kids are less fussy than Emma was at this age.
Ben comes and stands in front of us. "Aunt Monica, when can I hold the babies?"
She smiles up at our nephew, poking at his side. "After they've eaten. You wouldn't like holding them when they're hungry—they get very cranky." Ben's face falls, disappointed. "I promise, kiddo. It'll only take a few minutes."
On cue, Erica starts wailing, the noise she's producing able to shatter glass. Monica flies into action, grabbing our daughter, standing up, and taking a bottle out of her mother's hand in one fluid motion. She takes the pacifier out of the baby's mouth, immediately replacing it with the bottle; Erica calms instantly.
I look at Jack, who looks startled, his eyes wide. A moment later, his face scrunches up and he starts to cry, too.
"Hey, buddy," I say softly, lifting him out of the carrier, taking the bottle out of Judy's outstretched hand. I stand up, bouncing him gently, holding the bottle to his mouth, his little head moving back forth as he fights me on the issue. "You're okay. You're okay." His lips finally wrap around the nipple and he starts to suck greedily, his little forehead furrowing in concentration.
I move over to Monica, who's swaying back and forth with Erica, and nudge her carefully with my shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"
She nods, looking up at me for a second before her attention returns to Erica. "Yeah. It's just…I mean, we've only seen Ross—what? Four times since we moved, and only twice at the house? And when we do see him, he gives me crap about being tired when we're trying to raise two little babies? Or worse, complains about how I'm too busy to see him now."
"I think he just misses you, Mon."
"Well, he has a funny way of showing it, doesn't he?"
"He's a guy," I try to explain. "We're not the best at expressing how we feel. So, yeah, he's probably pouting and being a dick because he's not used to not seeing you every day."
"I miss him, too, but it's not like we can just run to Manhattan all the time. Look how hard it is trying to get all of their stuff together just to run to the store. He knows how hard it is having kids this size—it would take him almost an hour just to cross the street when Emma was a baby."
"Have you tried talking to him about it?"
"In all that spare time I have?"
I sigh, adjusting Jack in my arms. "I'm not the enemy, Monica. I'm on your side. I just don't want you to feel any more stressed out than you already are."
I see her shoulders drop. "I know. It's just easier to fight with you sometimes."
"You're good at it, too," I tease. She looks at me indignantly—the same look I've seen on Erica's face when we take away her pacifier—so I lean in and give her a quick peck. "Hey, Ross—come here for a sec."
Monica's eyes grow wide as she stares at me and I shrug. "Better to get it out of the way now," I tell her as Ross appears in front of us.
"What's up?"
I look at Monica pointedly, and finally she sighs. "Why are you being such a jerk?"
Ross manages to look a little offended, even as his head droops a little. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. We never see you anymore, and when we do, you're sulky and mean. What's going on with you?"
"I'm not sulky."
I roll my eyes as Monica scoffs. "Really? And what are you doing right now, then?"
"It's so far away…"
"It's an hour, tops."
"Well, you know, you can come see me more often—"
"You have to be kidding me. Ross, I have two two-month-olds. Chandler and I both commute into the city for work every day; I'm sorry if running to hang out with you at the coffeehouse after work isn't our top priority, but usually we need to pick up the kids and get home before it gets too late." I see Monica's eyes fill with tears and I bite my lip—I can't stand to see my wife cry. "Look—I'm not asking you to come out every day, or even once a week. I know that you're busy. But would it kill you to make more of an effort. We're trying our best, but it's really hard on us, too. You guys all still have each other, and we're trying to deal with this almost entirely on our own, and it'd just be nice if my brother didn't insist on being a complete ass because I can't come to him all the time."
He reaches out and wraps an arm around his sister's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Mon. I just miss having you around, you know? I used to see you every day."
"I live in a different county, not a different country."
"I know—it just feels like it sometimes."
"I get it but…I want you to know your niece and nephew—they're pretty incredible little people. They might be the only ones you get, too."
I snort as I shift Jack to my shoulder, patting his back gently, coaxing out a burp; Monica and Ross stare at me. "Oh, come on. These two won't be the only ones—we're gonna get more."
She gives me a funny look as Ross says, "I don't know if I've been a complete ass."
"Oh, you totally have," Rachel says, and the three of us jump, realizing we have an audience. Ross's mouth drops open to protest when Jack and Judy nod at him. Monica's eyes widen in surprise at her parents taking her side on this. Emma looks around at the adults around her, then starts nodding her head like her grandparents, and poor Ben shuffles awkwardly. I take pity on him and go sit down under the umbrella.
"You ready to do this?" I ask him, gesturing to my son. Ben nods eagerly and plops down next to me, holding out his arms. I ease Jack over to him, keeping my hands under him as Ben gets his arms situated. "Make sure you support his head," I tell him. "His neck isn't too strong yet." I watch tensely for a moment as I remove my hands before I realize that Ben has it under control. He grins at me as he holds his cousin in his arms. I reach into one of the carriers and pull out a pacifier, sticking it into Jack's mouth.
"Hey, Dad! Look at this!" his voice surprisingly gentle as he calls out to Ross, who comes over and kneels next to his son, smiling, and I scoot back a little to give them some space.
Monica sits down beside me, her arms empty, and I realize that I've missed the rest of her conversation with her brother. She nods her head over to Rachel, who is busy cooing at Erica, Emma looking on over her shoulder, answering my question before I can ask it.
"Everything okay with you two?"
She shrugs, leaning into me. "I think so. He said he's going to make more of an effort and stop being such a jerk. Even Mom was reprimanding him for his behavior, which may be the first time in history."
I gently drape my arm across her leg, stroking her knee, still amazed at how empty my arms feel without one of the twins tucked against me. Her arm slides around my waist, her head falling against my shoulder. "So, you want more kids, huh?"
A grin spreads across my face. "Don't you?"
"I honestly haven't thought about it a lot in the last few months."
"Well, think about it now. I mean, we don't have to start looking into adoption again right now or anything, but it's something we should talk about."
Her left hand links with my left hand, and I still get a rush at seeing the wedding bands on our fingers. I bring our joined hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles for a moment before our hands settle back against her knee. "I'm exhausted all the time; we don't get any sleep; we're both cranky, and I've been downright bitchy to you more often than not lately. I feel like I'm dirty all the time, I don't know when I last ate hot food or an entire meal, and aside from this weekend and going to work, I can't remember the last time I went out in public in something other than sweats or pajamas." I remain silent, slowly rubbing my fingers against hers, knowing that she's not finished. "And I can't wait to have more."
The smile on my face widens. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I tilt my face down to hers, our lips meeting in a soft kiss.
"Maybe we should wait until the twins are a little older before we start going through the process again," she concedes. "But I think it's definitely something we should do."
"I love you," I whisper, kissing her again.
"I know," she answers against my lips. She sighs a few moments later, her head dropping to my shoulder again, my head coming to rest on hers, and we watch our family fawn over our children.
What Monica said was right—we're both exhausted, dirty, cranky, and hungry all the time. But I know that neither of us would trade it for anything in the world.
*A/N…this almost feels anticlimactic after TWWF Ch13, doesn't it? Eh.
