As we walk out of the church and into the parking lot, snow falls from the sky and sticks to the shiny asphalt. Jackson's arm is secure around the small of my back, and the weight of our eleven-month-old daughter, Tybie, is warm on my chest as she sleeps.
She fell asleep about halfway through Christmas Eve service, and Tessa wasn't far behind. Theo walks on Jackson's opposite side, hands tucked in his suit jacket pockets, as he watches the snow come down.
"Mom," he says, when we get closer to the car. "Is Santa real?"
I make quick eye contact with Jackson. Over the past couple months, we've been wondering how much longer Theo would believe. I believed until I was 12, but Jackson said that's freakishly late. He was never allowed to believe in Santa - his mother wanted him to know all the hard-earned presents came from her - so he can't relate.
"What do you think?" I ask, instead of feeding him an answer.
He looks at me, then to his father. He's growing to look more like Jackson with each passing day as his baby fat wears off and he turns sharper. He's getting tall, too. The top of his head is close to reaching Jackson's bicep. He's already at my shoulder.
"Halley at school said he's fake," he says. "And that you guys put the presents from him under the tree."
We get to the car, and Jackson unlocks it from a few feet away. "If that were true, why aren't they there already?" he asks. "You already saw all the presents from us. You guys were shakin' the crap out of them the other day."
"Yeah, I guess…" Theo says.
"And the hoofprints on the front path? How about those?" Jackson continues.
I smile warmly to myself at his softness. He desperately wants Theo to keep believing, to keep his childlike innocence for a bit longer.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about those," Theo says. "That's true. So, Santa has to be real."
"For sure," Jackson says.
Theo climbs in the back seat, past the middle row where Jackson and I work on getting the sleeping girls buckled into their car seats.
"And even if he's not real, you guys don't have to tell me," Theo says. "It's okay. I don't even wanna know. Because I want Christmas to keep being fun for my sisters, 'cause they're little."
"Hey," I say, snapping the clasp between Tybie's soft legs. "You're little, too."
"Mom…" he says, fighting a smirk.
"Yes, you are," I insist. "What do I say?"
He mumbles something, but I can't quite make it out.
"What was that?" I prompt, eyebrows raised.
He meets my eyes, his warm and twinkling. "That no matter how big I get, I'll always be your baby."
"That's right, teddy," I say, then shut the middle door of the van softly as Jackson does the same. There's not one of us that drives more than the other, but tonight Jackson takes the wheel because of how bone tired I am. I spent the better part of the morning finishing up shopping for the kids, the afternoon cooking, and the evening getting us all ready for church. I feel like I ran a marathon, and this short car ride is my first chance to breathe.
When we get home, all three kids are awake even as Jackson and I try to keep the girls asleep. Tybie sleepily plays with the necklace resting overtop the turtleneck collar of my dress, tempted to put it in her mouth as I walk us inside. Tessa has her arms wrapped around Jackson's neck, tights-covered feet hanging down as she always kicks her shoes off in the van. There's a pile under her car seat that grows by the day.
"Mama," Tessa says, as Jackson comes in the front door. I'm standing in the kitchen, hanging up the keys.
"What's up, baby girl?" I ask.
"When Santa comin'?"
"Only after we go to sleep," Theo pipes up, peeking his head around the corner. "That's why I'm hurrying to go get my PJs on!"
Tessa wriggles to be let down. "Me, too!" she shrieks. "Me, too!"
Jackson and I watch them with warmth in our eyes, and Tybie struggles to be freed from my arms so she can follow. But unfortunately for her, she can't walk yet.
"I know," I say, stroking her growing curls. "Someday. But not tonight. Tonight, you and me are gonna go night-night while Daddy gets your big sibs in their Christmas PJs."
Seemingly understanding my words, Tybie starts to cry. Beginning with a dramatic pout, she whimpers and works herself up to a pathetic-sounding wail.
"Aw, baby," Jackson says, coming up behind us. "Let her stay up. You can nurse her while I read to the bigs."
I look between the crying baby and my husband and decide that he's come up with the better option. I like the idea of the five of us together on Christmas Eve better, anyway.
So, after everyone's settled, we all gather in Theo's room because he has the biggest bed. The cookies are laid out for Santa along with a glass of milk, a plate of carrots for the reindeer, and a note written in impossible handwriting from Tessa. She's in a Santa-themed nightgown, Theo is in elf-patterned thermal wear, and Tybie is in a red and white striped long-sleeved onesie.
Now more than ever, we are picture perfect.
As Jackson gets comfortable between Theo and Tessa, I sit towards the end of the bed with Tybie in my arms and watch them. She nestles against me, lips latched to my breast as she nurses gently, calmly, lulling herself to sleep with the rhythm of my heart and the rise and fall of her father's voice.
"'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… not even a mouse," Jackson begins.
Theo and Tessa are enraptured, and stay that way through the whole story.
When he closes the back cover as a final note, Tessa is asleep leaning against his shoulder, Theo's eyelids are heavy, and after I buttoned my shirt back up, Tybie drifted off with her mouth wide open. I can practically feel the serenity wash over the room.
Holding the baby close to my chest, I lean to kiss Theo's forehead. "Goodnight, teddy bear," I say. "Sweet dreams. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Christmas morning," he murmurs.
"Yes," I say, smiling. "I love you."
"I love you, mama."
I kiss Tessa as Jackson holds her sleeping form, poised outside her room. I whisper that I love her in her ear, hoping she hears it in her dreams, then gently go lay Tybie down in her crib after switching on the mobile.
After all the kids are down, Jackson and I meet in our room. I let out a long sigh, shoulders deflating, and shoot him a tired smile.
"Long day?" he asks.
"The longest," I reply.
He takes a few steps closer and winds his arms around the small of my back, pulling me close to press his nose against mine. "But you looked good doing it," he says.
I roll my eyes. "Shush."
"No bullshit," he says. "I love watching you be a mom to them. There's just something about… I don't know. Just seeing you and knowing those are our kids. We made them, Peach. We made those beautiful, unique, fricken awesome kids."
"I know," I whisper. "They all came out of me. Remember?"
"Even Tessa's big head."
I shudder for effect. "I can still feel that."
He runs his hands up my sides, over my shoulders, to cup my face. "You're gonna love what I got you," he tells me.
"Wait, let me guess," I say. "You got rid of that god awful t-shirt."
He knows what one I'm talking about. He got it as a gift for his bachelor party, and wears it to do work around the house.
He raises his eyebrows smugly. "What? No way. You're dreaming. Plus, it's worked before, has it not?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You know what the shirt says," he says. "Wine me, dine me, 69 me. You can't say you haven't come through on that befo-"
"Shut your mouth," I say, reaching to cover his lips with my palm. "Shut. Your. Mouth. Right now."
He smiles widely, then gently moves my hand away so he can kiss me.
"I'm taking that as you didn't throw away the shirt," I say, hands on his chest.
He shakes his head. "Nah," he says. "It's way too charming."
I roll my eyes, but let him kiss me again. Deeper this time, more passionate as he opens his mouth and slips his tongue past my lips. He swipes it along my bottom row of teeth, then sucks my tongue between his lips. His hand sneaks up my back and hitches up the hem of my shirt, but we're interrupted by the sound of a little voice.
"Mama? Daddy?"
We pull away from each other and look towards the door. Standing there is Tessa, hair askew, eyes bleary, clutching her baby blanket in one fist.
Jackson and I untangle our limbs and wipe our mouths casually. The kids are used to seeing us kiss and touch each other, and we never act ashamed of it. It's a normal, routine thing for them to see us be affectionate towards each other, and it's come to the point where they comment if other parents aren't.
"What goin' on, Tess?" Jackson asks. I can hear the impatience in his voice; he wants to get back to me.
"Did Santa came yet?"
I smile and walk over to her. "No, baby," I say. "You haven't been asleep long enough."
"I think I was sleeping for ten hours."
"Not quite," I say. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. I promise, by the time you wake up, he'll have been here."
I walk her back to her room, and on the way, Theo calls, "Tess, don't get up again or Santa won't come!"
I chuckle to myself and say, "I got it under control, teddy."
I leave Tessa's room after tucking her in and kissing her forehead, then start down the stairs only to hear Jackson's voice from behind.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, catching up.
"To go play…" I widen my eyes and mouth the word 'Santa.' I know neither of the two older kids are deeply asleep yet.
Jackson nods, knowing our routine, and comes downstairs with me. We share the plate of cookies Theo painstakingly arranged, and I eat two of the carrots Tessa laid out. Jackson wraps the rest in a paper towel and throws them away, even after I insisted he should have at least one.
We get the gifts from Santa out from the basement closet and lay them under the tree, interspersed with the ones from us. We'll see Jackson's mother tomorrow, who's coming over around lunchtime to spoil the kids rotten, undoubtedly. But we get the morning to ourselves, and I'm really looking forward to it.
"I can't believe it's Ty-Ty's first Christmas already," I say, holding a school-made ornament of Theo's as I stand in front of the tree. "This year flew by."
"Every year goes too fast," Jackson says, sidling closer to hold my shoulders.
"Agreed," I say. "The one thing I want for Christmas is to make time slow down."
"Alright, then let me dig that shirt out of the trash."
I laugh loudly, but then cover my mouth and shake my head at him. We both wait in silence, expecting the sound of footsteps or a little voice, but get neither. The kids are finally down for the count.
"Speaking of gifts," he says, resting a hand on my stomach. I look down as his thumb strokes the fabric of my shirt, and see the body I've grown used to. The body more equipped to my lifestyle as a full-time mother, while at the same time a full-time chiropractor. "Tomorrow. Are we telling my mom?"
I overlap his hand with mine. "Not yet, I don't think," I say. "It's not even a month yet, it's too soon. I wanna wait a little longer."
"Okay," he says, smiling. "Your choice. I won't say a word."
"Soon," I say, a promise in my eyes. "Maybe at six weeks. I want to be sure everything's okay, that everything's solid."
"Right," he says, smile growing. "God, I'm excited."
"You know we're crazy, right?" I say, but can't ignore the flutter in my gut as I think about the prospect of a fourth child with him. My statement is true - we are crazy. By the time this baby is born, Tybie won't even be two yet. We are certifiably insane.
But we were meant to be parents to awesome kids. Theo was always enough, but when we had Tessa, we realized how good we were at the whole parenting thing. And after Tybie, who is arguably the easiest baby in existence, the fourth was a happy accident.
It also so happens I'm extremely fertile. Jackson can throw a sideways glance at me while I'm ovulating and there will be a positive pregnancy test in the trash the next day.
"We are, I know," he says, then slips a hand beneath my shirt to touch my stomach - skin on skin. "But we're good at it. So, it's alright."
I turn towards him and hold his face that's illuminated by the glow of the Christmas lights. I give him a kiss and he reaches to pat my butt, then hold it tight in his grip.
There's something magical about Christmas in general, but even more magical in experiencing it with children. And knowing we have three perfect little lives and one more on the way, this Christmas is sure to be the most magical yet.