Disclaimer: If Friends were mine, a lot of stuff would be different. And it would've gotten cancelled after the first season.

A/N: I am just astounded at all these great reviews! Thank you, everyone, who has taken the time to read and evaluate this story, especially those of you who review every chapter. I wasn't totally sure about this story when I first posted it... but now you've all given me the confidence to keep it going :)

I must say, I love writing Mom!Rachel.

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Emma had never been good about cleaning her room, even when asked to by her parents.

One day in the beginning of the spring, Rachel was home with nothing to do. Emma was at school, nearly done with her elementary career, while Sean was just beginning his. Jen was finishing up her year of preschool before heading off to kindergarten. Ross was teaching one of his classes in the city, and was then going to pick of their youngest daughter and pay a visit to his parents. Every adult she knew was at work.

So, Rachel decided to wander into her eldest daughter's room. As expected, everything was placed about in a haphazard manner. Now, Monica may have been the neat freak of the group, but even Rachel herself kept things tidier than Emma.

The bed wasn't made (though the three kids had never made their beds in the mornings before school, ever), pens, pencils, and paper littered her desk, and there were wrappers and other odds and ends strewn about the floor, leaving very little room to actually walk.

Rachel let out a sigh as she surveyed the area, thankful that they had decided to change the guest room into an actual bedroom for Jen, because otherwise Emma's room would've been twice as trashed with two occupants.

Pictures were posted up for all to see on a bulletin board above her bed, and books filled her bookshelf. As Rachel wandered over to the large piece of furniture, she let her hands glide across the books' spines, seeing some familiar stories from her childhood.

Rachel didn't normally waltz into Emma's room and start going through everything. But if she were being honest with herself, she was really looking for something. A clue, perhaps, to explain her daughter's sudden odd behavior.

Just the evening before, Emma had marched up to her mother after dinner and asked her if she could wear some of her lipstick to school.

Rachel had, of course, said no. But she had promised to let Emma put a little on for a special occasion. It was natural for little girls to observe their mothers put on makeup, and then want to do it too. However, what Rachel hadn't been expecting was her daughter to whine, "But I want to look grown up!", leaving Rachel herself speechless and wondering who, exactly, her little girl wished to impress.

The fourth-grader had been day-dreaming a lot more often. She'd started taking the phone into her bedroom and closing the door behind her, and staying on said phone with one of her little friends for much longer than should be permitted at this age.

Rachel knew what it all meant, but she was having trouble accepting it.

Her baby girl, one of her prides and joys, the first of her three beautiful children, was really growing up.

Sitting on the purple blanket-covered bed, Rachel jumped up slightly when she felt her bottom come in contact with something small, square, and hard. She felt under her until she came up with a notebook.

A diary.

It was one of those moments that Rachel knew she would look back on and wonder why she made the decision she did. She hadn't even realized Emma kept a diary. She herself hadn't started keeping one until sixth grade, and even that was short-lived.

Already feeling guilty, and knowing it was something she'd regret later, Rachel opened the diary, reverting back to a young 20-something in apartment number twenty, eagerly searching through some sort of secret Monica had hidden.

Just because she was a real adult now didn't mean all of her snooping and gossiping tendencies had disappeared.

She flipped through the first page with Emma's name written in large, bold letters and a few random entries with trivial things such as so-and-so said this, and this person likes that person, within them. The next couple of pages had little doodles on them.

The page after those, however, was filled with hearts.

With a boy's name scripted in each one. Each tiny heart that took up all the space of the page had one specific boy's name in them.

The hearts were outlined in red.

Rachel shut the diary quickly, willing herself not to open it again. She may have given this girl life, but everyone deserved some privacy, and Rachel knew she had definitely just overstepped the boundaries.

Oh, Lord, her daughter had a crush on a boy. Now the make-up and wanting to look grown up made sense.

Standing in a slight daze, Rachel made her way out of Emma's bedroom, across the hallway, down the stairs, and finally plopped down on the couch in the living room.

She knew it was going to happen eventually. But that didn't make it any more shocking.

What was next? A boy liking her back? Dates? Boyfriends? Kissing? 'The Talk'?

The thoughts scared Rachel, and not because all of those things could lead to disaster. No, she knew Emma was a great kid and would never do anything unacceptable. But all of this meant that her baby girl was over the 'cooties' stage and was locking herself in her room to talk to her friends about boys.

And she hadn't even told her mother.

So when Monica dropped Emma and Sean off at the house that afternoon (it was the Bing's carpool day), and the siblings bounded into the house and deposited their backpacks on two kitchen chairs, Rachel was waiting with a calm and patient mask on her face, hiding her desperate desire to shout out, "You're too young to like boys!" to her daughter

"How was school?" Rachel asked pleasantly as she smoothed her daughter's light-brown hair gently and sent a smile toward Sean.

"Fine," the two chorused.

"Can I go ride my bike?" Sean asked eagerly.

Rachel nodded. "I'll be out in a second. Stay in the driveway until I get out there, all right?"

He nodded and rushed out the door, and Rachel was struck again by how much he looked like his father.

"So, anything interesting happen today?"

"No."

"Do you have a lot of homework?"

"Sort of."

Ah, talking to children. How stimulating.

Rachel sat down in the chair across from Emma. "So… were all your friends at school today?"

Emma glanced at her mother, confused. "Uh… yeah. Well, actually, Lindsey was sick, but otherwise everybody was there."

Nodding, Rachel watched Emma write her name, date, and the assignment on the top of a piece of white-lined paper. "So it's getting pretty hot out, huh? Dad's going to get Uncle Chandler over here this weekend to help open the pool." She waited for any sort of acknowledgement, and when one wasn't received, continued, "Maybe you can have a pool party. Invite some friends. Girl friends, boy friends."

"Mom," Emma finally whined, "I'm trying to do these math problems."

"Okay, sorry," Rachel said, and waited another few minutes in silence as she formulated a segue way into the topic of boys and crushes. "Hey, Em, what was the name of that boy who invited you to his party next week?"

At these words, Emma seemed to become fidgety and avoided eye-contact with her mother. "Um, Matt Burns," she answered, her cheeks flushing pink.

Bingo. Rachel smiled a little. "Do you like him?"

Emma suddenly looked similar to a deer caught in the headlights. "Um…"

"Because it's okay if you do," Rachel quickly told her. "Developing… feelings for a boy is natural."

Seeming openly interested now, Emma cocked her head to the side slightly. "Really? Because Ashley thinks it's gross. But Sarah likes a boy, too."

"Well, sometimes people like different things," Rachel said, glad that her daughter wasn't squirming away from the subject. "You know, I know this is probably hard to believe right now, but most likely you're going to feel this way about another boy someday, too. Maybe even more than one boy."

"Really?" Emma asked. "It's a weird feeling."

"You get used to it," Rachel assured. "It can be the best feeling in the world if the boy likes you back."

"Like you and Daddy?"

Rachel smiled softly to herself at the mention of she and Ross. His face came to her mind; the way he grinned, how he laughed, the way his hand felt in hers, the few gray hairs that were beginning to show on his dark head. She loved all of him and every part of him.

"Sort of. It's a different kind of feeling when you love somebody."

"How do you know if you love somebody?" Emma inquired, her homework forgotten.

"Well… you feel like how you feel when you like somebody, except everything is multiplied times a million," Rachel answered.

Emma considered for a moment. "I don't think I love Matt."

"You've got plenty of time for that in the future, sweetie," Rachel murmured as she stood from the table. "Right now you just worry about your homework, and I'm gonna go outside and make sure Sean has ridden away on his bike."

"Thanks, Mom," Emma said with a small smile. "I love you."

Feeling mushy, Rachel kissed her daughter's head. "I love you, too."

"Now I just have to figure out how to explain all of what you said to Sarah and Ashley and the other girls," Emma said, sounding distressed in a way only a ten-year-old could.

Rachel stepped outside and crossed the lawn, watching her son ride circles in the driveway. How long was it going to be before she would have to have that same conversation with him?

Her daughter's first crush. What a strange thing to go through, knowing your child was growing up and not being able to do anything but give your input and whatever advice they would accept.

Rachel knew that the girl in the house sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework was sure to be on the receiving end of a few crushes herself.

Where was the time going?

XXX