I look down at Jack and Erica, who look back at me expectantly, hands outstretched, ready to be of help. I place a little bag over Erica's wrist and lean down to give her a kiss. She giggles and scrunches up her nose. I hand Jack a bag and give him a kiss, too—he makes a big "muah!" sound that absolutely kills me. William makes a disgruntled noise against my chest and I straighten, taking a moment to make sure he's secure in his little snuggly thing. I kiss the top of his head then kneel down in front of the twins, who are starting to look very excited.
"Okay; what are you going to do with those?" I ask them, pointing at their bags.
"Give Mama!" Jack exclaims.
"Mama Mama Mama!" Erica bounces up and down, her voice growing louder, and I shush them even as I grin.
"That's right; you give it to Mama. But it's a surprise so you have to be quiet."
They grin at me broadly, hunching their shoulders in their best impression of being quiet.
These two…they're something else. They have no idea what Mother's Day means beyond the fact that it has something to do with their mommy. They've been bursting with excitement all morning.
It was no easy task getting Monica to stay in bed this morning; when William starts to snuffle and whine, she's usually up and alert in moments. I had to remind her that it's her day and that she could sleep in. I don't think she bought it at first, but when I went to check on her after I'd changed the baby's diaper, she was out cold. I dragged the twins downstairs with me, both bleary-eyed and disoriented as I got their breakfast ready, trying to satisfy their constant question of, "Where Mama?" while feeding William at the same time. Then I brought out the presents I helped them make over the past couple of weeks and something clicked for them.
And they haven't stopped wiggling since.
They love presents. Mostly, they like tearing them open more than whatever's inside. But they seem to really like giving things to people, too. At Christmas, they took turns playing "Santa" and handed out gifts with Monica gently prompting them. It was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen—watching their little faces light up as they handed presents to us and each other, especially William. They loved giving William presents and helping him unwrap them and showing him what they do.
It was even better at their birthday last month—they just kept handing things to each other, then to their brother, then to their cousins and anyone else who'd take gifts from them.
Maybe it's just a fluke, but I like to think that Monica and I are doing something right with our kids.
But now they're not only very excited to see Mommy, but also to give her their presents.
I look down at William to make sure he's okay, then grab the tray I've filled with Monica's breakfast and coffee.
Her wishes for today were very simple; she wanted to spend time with me and the kids, and she didn't want to go out to eat. She said she's worked too many years in a restaurant on Mother's Day to be able enjoy going out. She says it's a hellacious day in the restaurant business and she doesn't want to be part of that. She told me she'd much rather cook for us all than fight the crowds.
I don't know that I could let her cook her own Mother's Day dinner, but other than that, I'm happy to give her whatever she wants.
Her first Mother's Day is kind of a blur—we'd only been parents for a couple of weeks and none of it felt real yet. Mother's Day last year was pretty low key; the twins were just a year old and she was seven months pregnant with William, but I think she likes it this way. We're complete homebodies now, and hanging out with each other and our kids always seems like a better alternative to most other things.
I herd the kids over to the stairs and pause before I open the baby gate, kneeling before the twins again as I put the tray on the floor beside me. "So, what do we say when we see Mommy?" They look at me blankly; I knew we'd have trouble with this. "We say, 'Happy Mother's Day!' Can you say 'Happy Mother's Day'?" They both start to look distressed; we've been working on it all week, but this combination of words is still too much for them. I smile at them reassuringly. "Can you say 'Happy Mama's Day'?"
"Mama Day?" Erica asks, her eyes lighting up.
"That's good!" I tell her, reaching out to give her belly a little squish. "What about you, Jack?"
"Mama Day," he tells me firmly, looking very proud of himself.
"Good boy," I say, poking his belly button gently. "Let's go wake up Mama." That's definitely a sentence they don't know—they've never gotten to wake Monica. But they understand "Mama," and they're suddenly bouncing with excitement again.
I pop open the gate and they start to climb, grabbing onto the banister to help pull themselves up. I pick up the tray once more and follow them slowly, carefully pulling the gate shut behind me as I marvel at how good they are at this. My little kids are climbing stairs. They're still scooting down them on their butts or bellies, but they can actually get up the stairs mostly unassisted.
It's completely amazing and heart-wrenching.
They're growing up too quickly.
They reach the gate at the top and press their faces to it, and I imagine they look like tiny prisoners just waiting for freedom. I open that gate for them too and burst into the hallway, their excitement palpable. I barely have time to close the gate and catch up with them in our room as I hear them yelling, "Mama Day! Mama Day!"
I find them standing next to the bed, beaming at their mother, who's blinking at them sleepily. "Hi," she says softly, a smile spreading across her face.
Jack and Erica start to bounce and wiggle so hard I'm afraid they might break out of orbit. "Mama Day!" Jack exclaims happily.
It's extraordinarily unusual that Monica isn't the first person they see in the morning; they probably missed her.
Her smile grows even wider, one of her arms reaching out for them as she leans over the edge of the bed. "Good morning, sweetie pies." They rush at her, falling into her hug as she showers them with kisses. She peeks over their heads at me and I just grin broadly.
"Happy Mother's Day, Mommy," I tell her as I amble into the room, putting the tray down on the nightstand before I sit near her feet. I give her leg a gentle squeeze before I start unstrapping William, the twins not done with showering their mother with love.
I don't have a lot of experience with this, but I think this is exactly how Mother's Day is supposed to be.
Monica looks misty-eyed already as she hugs Jack and Erica tightly, the look on her face radiant.
I finally get William untangled and sit him next to me on the bed; he immediately flops forward and crawls up to his mother, stopping when he gets to her hip and can't get any closer, reaching out and patting her leg. She turns and reaches for him, pulling him onto her chest. "Good morning, baby boy," she says, kissing his cheek before wrapping her arms around him.
The twins just look at me and I hold out my arms, pulling them onto the bed; they scramble up to Monica, kneeling at her side, looking at her excitedly. "Erica, Jack; don't you have something to give Mommy?"
They thrust their little arms forward, gift bags still attached to them. "Give Mama!" they shout, their words tumbling over each other's as they bounce up and down.
"What's this?" she asks them, looking over at me, curious.
"Why don't you open them and find out?" I tell her.
"Why don't you come over here and kiss me first?" she counters as she sits up against the headboard, and I immediately lean forward and maneuver around the baby to press my lips to hers, her hands on my cheeks, holding me in place.
"Happy Mother's Day," I whisper against her lips and I feel her grin.
"Thank you," she tells me as she reclines against the headboard, William on her lap, Jack and Erica still by her side. "What should I open first?"
"Ummm, Jack's." She takes the bag off his arm and I feel the need to not set the bar too high. "Don't get too excited about this," I tell her. "This is not m strongest suit."
"Way to talk it up, honey," she says, rolling her eyes, pulling out tissue paper before reaching, grabbing the gift. "An apron?"
"Well, look at it," I tell her, sighing playfully.
She unfolds, her face lighting up. "Awww! I love it!" Tiny handprints dot the front of the apron; the idea had been to do something creative, like the kids' hands as the tops of flowers, but they got really excited about putting their hands in paint and went a little rogue. The result was pretty cute, though. "This is so sweet."
"They thought since Mommy's a chef, she might like a new apron."
"They were right. This is adorable!" She runs her fingers gently over the little handprints, mesmerized. Knowing Monica and how long she's wanted to be a mother, I kind of figured she'd love to get homemade gifts that our kids had helped with. Even if it is a little cheesy.
I think I got it right, though. "Okay, next!" I take the apron from her and she takes the bag off Erica's outstretched arm.
She lifts the bag up and down curiously. "Hey, this is kind of heavy. Did you bring this upstairs all by yourself, Eri?"
"Yeah," she answers, sounding completely bashful, her mother's voice full of love and pride.
Monica reaches into the bag and pulls out three little canvases, and her hand goes to her mouth as tears spill down her cheeks.
"Mama sad?" Jack asks and Monica shakes her head, sniffling as she smiles at him.
"No. Mama's happy." She looks up at me in wonder. "How did you do this?"
"It looks a lot more complex than it is," I tell her, suddenly feeling a little bashful myself. "Mike helped me with the more creative stuff."
She chuckles a little, looking back and forth between the three canvases in front of her. I wish I could take credit for this idea, but the internet is the one who thought this up. Each picture is individualized for each of our kids; footprints in paint in the shape of a butterfly next to the first letter of their names, all with a decoupage picture of Monica and Erica, or Monica and Jack and Monica and William. Mike did the intricate stuff like the lettering and butterfly details, and together we learned how to decoupage, something I'm sure neither of us ever thought we would do, and in return he stole the idea so he could do the same with Amelia for Phoebe.
"This is beautiful." She looks up at me, shaking her head, eyes still bright with tears. "I…I…don't have words. I just love this so much."
I just smile at her, stroking her leg gently—sappy, sentimental, homemade gifts were definitely the way to go.
"Mama sad," Erica says, her own bottom lip jutting out as she watches her mother cry.
"Oh, honey," Monica says, laughing. "Mama's okay. She's just really, really happy." She holds out her arms and the twins cuddle around her, taking care not to squish William. She kisses the tops of their heads and they sigh into her. "Thank you for my presents," she whispers to them; Jack and Erica look pretty pleased with themselves. She looks up at me and mouths, "thank you."
"Hey, you're not done yet."
"There's more? Chandler…"
"The world's best mother deserves to be acknowledged as such." I crawl over to my side of the bed and open the drawer to my nightstand, pulling out a jewelry box. "Just a little something," I tell her as I prop myself up next to her.
She takes it from me reluctantly. "Seriously—you've already done too much."
"There's no such thing," I assure her. "Not when it comes to you."
She gives me a look but opens the box, grinning up at me. It's just a necklace that has the kids names and birthstones on tiny little tags, but I think she likes it. "It's beautiful."
"It's not much," I tell her, shrugging. "But there's so much Mother's Day sh…stuff out there. You wouldn't believe how many different types of jewelry there are all to celebrate mothers. And I didn't want to get something more permanent until we know if we're going to have more kids or not—" Her lips are on mine suddenly, cutting me off, and my arm immediately goes around her and the kids to make sure everyone is safe and stable.
"I love it," she finally whispers. "This is the best Mother's Day I could ever hope for." I rest my chin on her shoulder and sigh.
"Your breakfast is getting cold," I finally say, pointing to the tray on the nightstand next to her and she just laughs.
"It can wait. It's not like it'll be the first time in the last couple of years that I've eaten a cold breakfast." She gives the kids another squeeze and I see William about to topple forward, so I reach out and grab him, pulling him against my chest. "So, what else do you have planned for Mama?" she asks the twins.
"Tings," Erica tells her.
"Lide," Jack says.
She lifts her eyebrow and looks over at me. "The park? That was swings and slides, right?"
"Yeah, the park," I answer, chuckling. "I know it's not terribly exciting, but it's something we can do with all of the kids—"
"Chandler, stop." I look over at her and she smiles softly. "This is exactly what I wanted for today. I honestly can't imagine a better way to spend Mother's Day than with all of you like this. Thank you so much."
"Well, we want to spoil Mommy as much as we can, right guys? We think she's pretty much the best."
"Mama Day," Jack says softly, his little fingers plucking at the edge of the blanket, and even though he's only been awake for about an hour, he looks like he's ready and willing to crawl under the covers with Monica and nap the day away.
"Mama."
Monica and I freeze, our eyes meeting each other in shock; that was new.
"Was that William?" she breathes.
"Couldn't be," I answer. "He's too young, right?"
She shrugs. "They're all different. Some start talking later, some earlier. He has two older siblings, so he could be catching on to things faster."
"Right. Right, of course. And the twins said that kind of stuff all the time before they started using it correctly." Except, oddly, we haven't heard William use "mama" by accident. He says a lot of other stuff, but not that one. That doesn't mean today isn't the start of it, though.
Erica crawls onto Monica's lap, straddling her thighs. "Lee-um," she says, and William looks at her, grinning. "Mama Day."
I lean into toward Monica, whispering out of the corner of my mouth, "Is she trying to teach him something? Do two-year-olds do that?"
Monica looks like she's afraid to move. "…Maybe? Maybe she thinks he's saying wrong?"
I see William's head turn to Monica, and he bounces against me gently. "Mama."
"Oh, my God," she says, holding out her arms for him, pulling him against her chest. She bites her lip as she tries not to cry again. "I think he meant that."
"I think you're right," I agree, staring in wonder. William's first word; my ten-month-old son just spoke his first word.
It feels like a wonderful punch in the gut.
I guess time will tell if he's really saying it or if it's just a fluke, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if this is the real deal. He's trying so hard to be like Jack and Erica; hell, he's almost walking, so why not talking?
I look down at Jack to find out why he's not involved in this only to find him passed out against his mother's arm, his mouth hanging open. Monica follows my gaze and just shakes her head.
"I'll give him a few minutes," I tell her and she nods in agreement.
Erica flops forward, her head landing against Monica's stomach, giggling as she says, "Mama Day."
"You know; William's heard 'Mama' more today than he probably has in his entire life. If there were ever a time for him to pick it up, I think this would be it."
She tightens her arm around him, the side of his face pressed against her chest, and he smiles at me. I look at him suspiciously, waiting for him to say it again, but he doesn't. He just grins goofily.
"You guys have got to stop having these major milestones on holidays," Monica finally says. "Crawling on Christmas, Jack's first word on his first birthday, this one's first word on Mother's day…my poor heart can't handle this."
Jack snorts in his sleep and twists around violently for a moment until he's belly-down on the bed between us, still asleep, and I just shake my head at this kid. "I think that was his way of saying that he does what he wants."
"I wouldn't be surprised." She sighs and looks over at me, smiling happily. "I know you couldn't possibly have planned this part, but this really has been the most amazing Mother's Day ever, and I haven't even gotten to pee yet."
I bury my face in my hand as I try to stifle my laughter. "Sorry about that."
She looks down Erica and William pressed against her, then at Jack burrowed on our bed. She looks back to me with so much love and peace in her eyes. "Worth it."