There are times when I find myself almost wishing our children were just a little older. Taking care of a newborn as well as having two toddler twins is more work than I could have ever imagined.
Those thoughts are quickly washed away, however, whenever I look into any of my children's eyes. I am acutely aware that they're not going to be this young forever. They're going to grow up. They're going to become independent, relying less and less on their parents. They're going to go out into the world to make their own way. They're going to fall in love, and hopefully never have their hearts broken.
Knowing this, Peeta and I try our hardest to cherish every moment of every day. Even though we know it's virtually impossible, we want to remember everything. Rocking Dalia to sleep in the middle of the night. Teaching the twins everything we know about life, love, the outdoors, baking, and family, amongst countless other subjects.
Annie and Finnick have, not surprisingly, turned out to be wonderful parents. All the practice they had helping with our kids has somewhat prepared them, but there are a great many things you have to learn as you go. Annie and I spend hours upon hours together, caring for our newborns, enjoying having our best friend there to support one another.
One day we were walking through town, both of us pushing a stroller. The twins were with Finnick and Peeta, swimming in the lake and doing god knows what else. We've all become accustomed to the way people see and treat us. Because we're Victors, and because we were so instrumental in the Rebellion, our faces are some of the most famous in the country. Some people are eager to meet us, and we always try to accommodate, even if all we really want is peace and quiet. I understand that we're symbols to the people, and that the moment we emerged from the Arena as Victors our lives would never be the same. Other people, ones who don't know us and are new to the District, are almost afraid of approaching us. I don't know if it's because they're nervous or intimidated, but it can get a little awkward at times.
PJ's birth, like Dalia and the twins before him, was front page news. It's safe to say they're the most well known children in all of Panem. While Annie and I leisurely walked through town, we can hear people talking about us. How cute we are with our babies. How we're better looking in person (that one makes us blush). How they're amazed that we're out doing 'normal' things like taking our children for a walk. We just chuckle, shake our heads in mild disbelief, and continue on.
Life marches on. Seasons change, the weather along with it. We spend many a night as a family sitting in front of the crackling fire, laughter reverberating through the house. Our home is always filled with love, a seemingly unending supply. The twins have become fiercely loyal and protective of their baby sister, and I swear there's nothing cuter than the way they interact with her.
"Momma?"
Josh's voice brings me out of my musings and back to the present. I'm on the front porch in a rocking chair, holding Dalia.
"What is it baby?" I smile at my son who reminds me so much of his father.
"Daddy says dinner's ready."
"Great. Thank you Josh." I lean down and he gives me a big kiss on the cheek before gently kissing Dalia. "Come on big boy, let's go eat." I take his tiny hand in mine as we walk inside.
Tonight, dinner's just the five of us. It's actually pretty rare that nobody else is here, as our home is more often than not full of friends and family. Walking into the kitchen, I find Peeta at the stove. Eve is sitting on the counter near him, her legs swinging, as she watches her daddy. She truly is a daddy's girl.
"Mmm, it smells great honey," I grin as I put Dalia in her high chair.
"A Mellark family classic," Peeta declares. "Lamb stew."
"Mommy's favorite!" Eve jubilantly recognizes.
"Yep," Peeta nods. "And since we're having mommy's favorite, what else do you think I made?" Peeta asks Josh.
"Cheese buns!"
I laugh and help Peeta move the food to the table.
"Did you wash your hands?" I ask Eve and Josh before we sit down.
From the look they give each other, I know the answer. I don't even have to say a word before they quickly exit the kitchen, their destination the bathroom in the hallway.
Once we're ready, we dig in. I have to goad Eve and Josh a bit to eat the broccoli Peeta steamed, but they dutifully comply, knowing that they won't get any dessert otherwise.
"Haymitch called while I was cooking," Peeta tells me between bites.
"What did he want?"
"He needs a favor."
"Okay. What kind of favor?"
"He needs us to go to the Capitol."
"What? Why?" I'm glad I remembered to keep my voice down.
"Apparently they're putting together some kind of event commemorating the Games. He needs everyone - us, Finnick, Annie, Jo, Cinna, Portia, everyone."
I sigh and keep feeding Eve while I contemplate.
"Well he didn't leave us much of a choice," I mutter.
"That's exactly what I told him. I know you hate that place as much as I do. I also know that you know we have to go."
"Yeah," I reluctantly agree. "What about the kids?"
"Obviously they can come with us. Or they can still with your mom and Prim."
The thought of being away from my children, even for a day, makes my heart constrict.
Peeta, knowing me as well as he does, knows exactly what's going through my head.
"I already told him if we bring them, they're not to be photographed or taped under any circumstances whatsoever."
"You did?" I finally smile.
"Yeah. Actually I kind of threatened him," he admits sheepishly.
"Peeta…..What did you say?" My smile has turned into a smirk.
"Nothing that we can repeat at the dinner table," he smirks back.
"So when are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow. The train leaves at nine in the morning."
I sigh again. Great. We can't pack the kids tonight, it's already late enough as it is. We'll just have to do it in the morning, bright and early.
After having some delicious apple pie for dessert, I insist on doing the dishes since Peeta cooked. He takes Dalia upstairs to give her a bath and put her to bed while the twins entertain themselves in the living room watching a children's program on TV. Once I finish cleaning the kitchen I round up the twins and get them bathed and ready for bed.
"Momma will you tell me a story?" Eve asks as I tuck her in.
"Of course," I smile as I sit on the bed, gently stroking her hair. "What kind of story?"
"Um," she ponders. "Will you tell me about your daddy?"
I'm taken aback by her request. While we don't talk about my dad all that much, the twins are acutely aware that they only have one grandfather but two grandmothers. Not counting Haymitch, of course.
On one hand, after all these years, it's still difficult for me to talk about him. On the other, this is my daughter. His granddaughter. She should know about the wonderful man that was my father. She should know that even though he's not with us physically, he loves her and is looking out for her.
"Okay," I nod.
I take a breath and try to think of a good story to tell her.
"A long time ago, when I was about eight years old, he took me hunting."
"Remember Katniss, control your breathing."
"Okay daddy."
He hands me an arrow and I knock it on my tiny bow, the bow he made and gave me not too long ago. Pulling the string back, I try to remember everything he's taught me.
"Good. What's the first thing I taught you about archery?"
"Aim small, miss small," I reply correctly.
"Exactly. Aim small, miss small. I want you to hit that oak tree over there," he points. "Then I want you to tell me what you were aiming for."
I nod and concentrate. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep the string taught. Release the arrow, don't push it. I let it fly and I watch as it soars towards the tree, embedding itself right in the middle of the trunk.
"Great shot kiddo," he praises. "Now what were you aiming for?"
"The knot with the little bit of moss on top," I answer as we walk towards the tree to retrieve my arrow.
"I think we can call that a bulls-eye," he laughs.
My arrow is right in the center of the knot I was aiming for.
"I think you're going to be a much better shot than I ever was."
"You see baby, nothing made me happier than my daddy being proud of me. I didn't realize it then, but he was making sure I'd be prepared for anything in life."
"Do you miss your daddy?"
I look into my eldest daughter's eyes. While I'll always be reminded of my husband when I see her baby blues, she is most certainly growing into her own personality. She's precocious, curious. She has inherited her seemingly endless heart from her father.
"Yes, I do miss him," I nod slowly.
"I'm sorry momma," she almost sobs, throwing herself into my arms.
Peeta chooses this exact moment to walk into the room, finding his wife and daughter sobbing while clutching onto each other. He immediately sits on the bed next to us, wrapping his arm around both of us and pulling us into him.
"What's got my girls so upset?"
"Mommy told me a story about her daddy," Eve answers slowly.
"Oh," Peeta nods, understanding. "He was a great man. I wish you could have met him. He would've spoiled you rotten."
That gets me to chuckle, albeit a wet chuckle.
"It's okay," Eve shrugs a shoulder. "I still love him."
Peeta and I look at her in amazement.
"Don't cry momma," she almost pleads when she sees my tears. "It's okay. We have daddy."
"Yes, we do," I agree with her again, kissing her before looking up at Peeta.
"You'll always have me," he promises. "Always."
After a few more minutes spending time with her, we finally get her to go to bed. We tuck her in (for the second time) and give her a kiss goodnight. Before we retreat back to our bedroom, I look in on Josh and Dalia. My darling baby boy is fast asleep. He's already kicked his blanket off. I carefully cover him with it, kiss him gently on the lips, and make sure his night light is on. Likewise, Dalia is also sleeping soundly. Although I know she'll inevitably wake us up in the very near future, I'm thankful that for the moment, she's getting some rest. We all have a long trip ahead of us.
Peeta and I pack what we can. We end up having to write a long list of everything we need, from toothbrushes to diapers to making sure Josh's favorite stuffed animal makes the trip. Once we've done all we can for the time being, we go about our nightly ritual. We brush our teeth side by side. I strip down to my bra and panties, Peeta down to his boxers. I take extra care with my cleaning and massaging of his stump. Even though he'd never, ever admit it, I know riding on the train is hard on his leg.
Finally, we climb into bed. I rest my head on his chest, my hair splaying out across his bare skin. We let out almost simultaneous sighs.
"Peeta?" I quietly break the silence.
"Hmm?"
"Tomorrow's going to suck."
I feel his laugh reverberate through his chest. I smile and kiss him right over his heart.