So this is life… real life.
Our Liam celebrated his first birthday. Been a year. Solid and fast and lovely in every way, even with the whole three month ordeal of the White Witch, and I can't say I've regretted any of the things I've done to get to this point.
Not to mention Emma and I are pregnant all over again. Delighted! We're praying for a wee lass this time. We're back to the initial process of regurgitating in the early light of morn... back to cravings, mood swings and Emma looking radiant and beautiful. Not that she doesn't always... but she does expel a certain aura of beauty when she's expectant.
As Liam's gone on growing and growing, I get less and less opportunities to sit and write, hence I've delayed so much in updating since my last entry seven bloody months ago. So much has transpired since!
The little lad is rather chatty and does get a few words across. Emma nearly threw a shoe at me when he echoed a perfectly good sounding "bloody hell". Henry and I thought it precious. Emma? Not so much. But now there's no stopping him. And the moment he figured out who he was (Henry presented him with a mirror) it is my guess he figured out just how much of a handsome little devil he is. I could swear he uses it to his advantage... makes the ladies melt. Ruby remembered the time she was with us sin the storm cellar and has officially become our baby sitter when the Swan and I require some alone time, something that also suits Henry quite well ; lad has a bad crush on her, I know it; only fair, he is almost fourteen, I'd be worried if he didn't! Speaking of which, we did have a man-to-man chat regarding the ladies. Seems the young man's appeal has increased, being the son of a princess and of course, one dashing young gentleman. I keep answering phone calls from Tina, Louise., Barbara, Caroline, Elizabeth, Jessica and there's a Mildred there somewhere, I'm quite sure... and they always leave a message because he's probably out with Kelly, Jennifer or Paula. Emma was concerned he might be a little too... precocious; Regina seconded that particular petition. So I offered to take him out and have a chat.
To make a long story short, the one thing I was able to do was to tell him to be careful and if he was to start on any funny business to come to me immediately so I could provide him with that necessary protection this realm has to offer which, if I do say so myself, is quite wonderful and a great window of opportunity should the realms ever be completely open to one another. I am sure many in the Enchanted forest would be delighted with the concept of a condom. Naturally, there are some things a lady like his mother can't hear about. So it's between us men. I doubt he'll get into that at this point, but I was merely fourteen myself when I got started, so it's a toss of a coin to tell. Better safe than sorry. The lad seemed pleased enough with me keeping his intimate secrets safe. It's only good form between gentlemen.
I hold a certain sense of pride in that... it's what a father should do.
Liam fell ill again, nothing too terrible, but a flu that caught on and soon enough, the entire Jones household was quarantined. I swear I had never felt as sick as that in my entire life, and that's a lot of years to take into account. The image of all of us slumped around on couches and beds, coughing, wheezing, sneezing and feverish, is really quite pathetic. All the same, we healed soon enough. Emma claims it's actually a bug, not visible to the naked eye, that causes these ailments; last I had heard, the flu was little more than bad spirits passing from one soul to another; it did away with vast amounts of my crew men, so it was hard for me to believe her until she relied on this technology of her realm to prove me wrong. So... it's a thing called a virus.
I suddenly come to realize the huge generation gap between my love and myself... and I love her for her patience, her dedication and her ever-going desire to teach this pirate new things.
Through this time, Liam has grown unbelievably and I feel like every day is like sea water through my fingers, leaving without as much as a salty trace of its passing behind; he is a heavy babe, dreadfully pale (the one trait of mine I had hoped he wouldn't inherit, but alas, there it is), and lovely in every sense. He started crawling around at ten months and soon enough we had potted plants, jars and all sorts of other dangerously set décor removed and put away because the wee lad is LETHAL. He will knock everything over and not give a damn. It was a dreadfully close call when he tried sticking his fingers in a socket. The following morning Swan and I had them all tapped with some strange little plastic coverings... only to find him trying to crawl down the stairs when for a brief second, Henry left the door open. I swear, it was no more than three seconds, the little spider's fast as lightning.
He's a mighty good eater... even plant soil is appetizing at times.
The golden moment, however, came one evening when, not one week before his birthday, Swan and I were relaxing over a cup of tea (cocoa in her case, with about half a bottle of cinnamon in it) and watching something on the box (television, she calls it... to me it's still the magic box), when Henry called to our attention. We turned and stared in silence as Liam, who had been sitting and fiddling about on the rug before us, had propped himself up on his two little feet while holding on to the heavy curtain by the window. We froze and held our breaths and the lad turned to us, gave us a look (one of those looks that say "I have no bloody clue what the hell it is I'm doing, but I'm doing it all the same", a trait that is so much like his father's adventurous spirit and his mother's bravery), and took only two steps before falling on all fours. We didn't even have time to capture the moment with the little magic camera. Alas...
Needless to say there was a bloody party that evening. Emma was first to pick him up and give him a big kiss (She will deny it, but she cried), and then it was my turn to hold him hard (I won't deny it, I cried). That lasted until Henry spoiled the party: "Yeah... If he was dangerous on all fours, imagine what he'll be breaking now..."
Emma and I ceased laughing. "Bloody hell, love, we'll have to pad the walls!" I exclaimed.
All the same, we are proud and happy that he is well, healthy and happy and that he has all the love neither of us had.
Emma is three months pregnant now, and yesterday we all blew out Liam's first candle. The soiree included practically the whole town: his uncle Neal and his grandparents were first on the line, Regina and her Hood and his boy (I don't exactly know what happened between him and his wife, but apparently he was far too involved with the Queen by the time Marion came back into his life, no thanks to the Swan and I), and then there were the Rumples or the Stiltskins or whatever they're called (I honestly have no idea) and their newborn girl, called... well, Milah. Yes; that was his way of making amends with his past. I suppose it was a good gesture on his part. She's a sweet enough babe; and thank all heavens, she looks like her mother.
The party was small enough, but I would not exchange the intimacy and fun of it for a lifetime of plundering gold aboard the Jolly Roger. I never thought I'd hear myself refer to a baby as "My Son" when I was a younger, wilder sea Pirate. There was a typical, standard children's party for this realm: A cake, some chocolate, some rather embarrassing music and a ridiculous man dressed in colorful clothes and a rather awkwardly misshaped red nose called a Clown for the little ones. They all loved the chap, however and I was unable to contain my smiles whenever Liam smiled... or Swan. My god, that woman's smile still rips my heart right out my chest. Cora taught me how to rip those things out and said that whomever holds the heart controls its owner. That must be the witch in Emma: She controls me, my every sleeping and waking thought... and I wouldn't have it any other way. My everlasting true love...I am just as crazy for her now as I was when I first fell for her. Or maybe more...
Two years earlier my only waking thoughts were to find a way to kill Rumplestiltskin for the death of Milah and the severing of my hand... and now we even exchange parenting tips! (Him: "From villain to villain, Captain... how does one change a nappy? Belle won't let me do it with magic, I can't, for the life of me..." Me: "Your sense of smell will be dulled after the first month, mate. But you'd sooner ask Emma, I never did any of that." Him: "Too picky, are we?" Me: "There's that... and there's the hook. Always a good excuse." Him: "Shall I cripple my hand to avoid the task?" Me: "You did your leg in to avoid the war, so why not? I've plenty of hooks to spare...").
With things the way they are right now, I pray we all remain the same.
And I have not enough words to convey just how excited and thrilled I am at the idea of Emma and I having another babe. I do hope it's a girl, a wee lass I can fuss and go crazy jealous over... be like David over Emma, maybe...
We will see.