Chapter Three –A Typical Counsil Morning
It was a Friday, five-thirty in the morning, and the house was quiet. Just the way we liked it.
Brandon and I always rose early to spend some time together before the morning "children traffic" began. Cody, Tyson, Akira, and the twins were to be up by six-fifteen in order to get around and be to school on time. Jesse, Ariana, Chandler, and Cade woke at six-forty five. Tommi and Jason were usually up with the older kids, considering they couldn't sleep through them arguing for the bathroom.
Brandon showered and dressed as I sat in bed and sipped my morning coffee. As he was buttoning his shirt, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"How's Baby?" he asked.
I patted my overgrown belly. "Baby's good. How's Daddy?"
He chose a belt from the closet. "Never been better." He turned to look at me. "Ease up on the coffee. It's not good for her."
"Brandon," I said, "you try spending the day taking care of twenty-five toddlers and see if you can go without some coffee."
He smiled at me.
Our "alone time" was interrupted a half hour later when Akira came into our room. She looked at me and sighed.
"Baby's still in there," she said softly. "When is she gonna come out?"
I motioned Akira to come towards me. She climbed onto the bed and sat at my feet.
"You have to give her time, Akira," I told her. "Baby has to grow a bit before she can come out. Just a few more months, honey, I promise."
It was at that moment that I heard the scream followed by a very loud, "TYSON RYAN!" And then, "MOM!"
I sighed heavily and was about to stand up, but Brandon told me to stay put. He'd deal with it.
Just as he was leaving the room, Akira at his heels, we heard a loud crash coming from Jesse's room in the attic. This time I knew I had to help. I stood up and made my way to the end of the hall, doors opening in curiosity along the way.
I was about to pull down the attic hatch but it slowly began to open itself. Jesse jumped down and stormed past me angrily into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him.
"What is going on?!" Ariana yelled and stomped into the hallway, her hands on her hips. "I don't have to get up for another forty-five minutes. I could be getting another forty-five minutes of sleep! What's going on, Mother?!"
"Honey, I don't know. Tyson's obviously done something to Kirian and Jesse is upset for some reason. But I don't know. Just go back to bed if you want more sleep."
Ariana scowled and went back to her room, muttering something under her breath.
I tapped lightly on the bathroom door. "Jesse?" I asked. "Honey, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom, just go away," was his reply.
"Are you sure? Is there anything you want to talk about?"
"No, Mom. We'll...we can talk later, okay?"
I hesitated. "All right. But you can't stay in there all day. Bathroom's a popular place in the morning."
He said nothing.
Once again, I attempted to pull down the hatch to the attic. I climbed up the ladder into Jesse's room, going slowly for fear of falling from the weight of my belly. What I found wasn't much of a shock.
The room was a disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere; on the floor, on the bed, hanging from the bureau drawers. Soda cans and dishes and empty cigarette packs littered the couch, the top of the television, and the windowsill. But the first thing I had noticed was the source of the crash. Jesse had overturned the coffee table in front of the couch. Everything that had been on it – a bowl of cereal, a stack of magazines, CDs, television and VCR remotes, an X-Box game console, and the phone – were now on the floor.
I put the table back to its original position and replaced its items. The phone had been off the hook, and as I put it back in its cradle, I couldn't help but wonder if a phone call had ignited Jesse's anger. I knew that he and his girlfriend of eight months had recently broken up, and she had a tendency to call whenever she felt like it, at any hour, hence the reason we got Jesse his own phone line.
I sighed at my son's mess and was about to leave when I remembered the spilled milk from the cereal bowl. I grabbed a bath towel from the corner of the room and draped it over the largest puddle, then soaked up the splatters everywhere else, thankful that Jesse had wanted hardwood instead of carpet.
Before I left, I tossed the towel in the laundry basket and carefully made my way to the hatch. And that's when I realized that I was terrified. Along with my pregnancy came a fear of heights.
It was a Friday, five-thirty in the morning, and the house was quiet. Just the way we liked it.
Brandon and I always rose early to spend some time together before the morning "children traffic" began. Cody, Tyson, Akira, and the twins were to be up by six-fifteen in order to get around and be to school on time. Jesse, Ariana, Chandler, and Cade woke at six-forty five. Tommi and Jason were usually up with the older kids, considering they couldn't sleep through them arguing for the bathroom.
Brandon showered and dressed as I sat in bed and sipped my morning coffee. As he was buttoning his shirt, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.
"How's Baby?" he asked.
I patted my overgrown belly. "Baby's good. How's Daddy?"
He chose a belt from the closet. "Never been better." He turned to look at me. "Ease up on the coffee. It's not good for her."
"Brandon," I said, "you try spending the day taking care of twenty-five toddlers and see if you can go without some coffee."
He smiled at me.
Our "alone time" was interrupted a half hour later when Akira came into our room. She looked at me and sighed.
"Baby's still in there," she said softly. "When is she gonna come out?"
I motioned Akira to come towards me. She climbed onto the bed and sat at my feet.
"You have to give her time, Akira," I told her. "Baby has to grow a bit before she can come out. Just a few more months, honey, I promise."
It was at that moment that I heard the scream followed by a very loud, "TYSON RYAN!" And then, "MOM!"
I sighed heavily and was about to stand up, but Brandon told me to stay put. He'd deal with it.
Just as he was leaving the room, Akira at his heels, we heard a loud crash coming from Jesse's room in the attic. This time I knew I had to help. I stood up and made my way to the end of the hall, doors opening in curiosity along the way.
I was about to pull down the attic hatch but it slowly began to open itself. Jesse jumped down and stormed past me angrily into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him.
"What is going on?!" Ariana yelled and stomped into the hallway, her hands on her hips. "I don't have to get up for another forty-five minutes. I could be getting another forty-five minutes of sleep! What's going on, Mother?!"
"Honey, I don't know. Tyson's obviously done something to Kirian and Jesse is upset for some reason. But I don't know. Just go back to bed if you want more sleep."
Ariana scowled and went back to her room, muttering something under her breath.
I tapped lightly on the bathroom door. "Jesse?" I asked. "Honey, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom, just go away," was his reply.
"Are you sure? Is there anything you want to talk about?"
"No, Mom. We'll...we can talk later, okay?"
I hesitated. "All right. But you can't stay in there all day. Bathroom's a popular place in the morning."
He said nothing.
Once again, I attempted to pull down the hatch to the attic. I climbed up the ladder into Jesse's room, going slowly for fear of falling from the weight of my belly. What I found wasn't much of a shock.
The room was a disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere; on the floor, on the bed, hanging from the bureau drawers. Soda cans and dishes and empty cigarette packs littered the couch, the top of the television, and the windowsill. But the first thing I had noticed was the source of the crash. Jesse had overturned the coffee table in front of the couch. Everything that had been on it – a bowl of cereal, a stack of magazines, CDs, television and VCR remotes, an X-Box game console, and the phone – were now on the floor.
I put the table back to its original position and replaced its items. The phone had been off the hook, and as I put it back in its cradle, I couldn't help but wonder if a phone call had ignited Jesse's anger. I knew that he and his girlfriend of eight months had recently broken up, and she had a tendency to call whenever she felt like it, at any hour, hence the reason we got Jesse his own phone line.
I sighed at my son's mess and was about to leave when I remembered the spilled milk from the cereal bowl. I grabbed a bath towel from the corner of the room and draped it over the largest puddle, then soaked up the splatters everywhere else, thankful that Jesse had wanted hardwood instead of carpet.
Before I left, I tossed the towel in the laundry basket and carefully made my way to the hatch. And that's when I realized that I was terrified. Along with my pregnancy came a fear of heights.