"…Happy birthday to you!"
The room breaks out in applause as Emma grins broadly, thrilled to have all the attention on her. Rachel squats down next to her, the smile on her face the same one on her daughter's. "Okay, Emma—now make a wish and blow out the candles."
Emma scrunches up her face in thought; she'd been reminded earlier in the day that she was supposed to keep her wish a secret or it wouldn't come true. A moment later, she smiles broadly and tries to blow out the candles. Ross gives Ben a nudge, and he leans in to help his sister.
We all applaud again when the candles are finally out, and Chandler reaches over to the light switch, illuminating the room once more. Our dining room table is packed with our children and friends and family, all chattering happily as the birthday cake is being cut and passed around.
I feel Chandler's arm go around me and I lean my head against his shoulder, bouncing William in my arms gently.
It wasn't tough to get Ross and Rachel to agree to have Emma's birthday party at our house—even though she hasn't gotten to the stage where she has friends over to celebrate, her family just keeps getting bigger, and it happens that we have the most space.
"Boh?" William asks, his arms flapping up and down a little, hitting my arms in the process.
"Oh, really?" I ask him, and his eyes grow wide.
"Bah," he explains, his face very serious. "Go bah."
"That's a good story, William," Chandler tells him, reaching out to stroke his head.
"Ghee ghee ghee ghee ghee," he answers, breaking out into a wide, gummy smile. Still no teeth; between that and his almost complete lack of hair, he looks like a little old man sometimes.
I lean down and kiss the side of the baby's head and he blows bubbles at me. He's growing up so fast; he's already seven and a half months old. I think he's about half a second away from learning how to crawl, mostly so he can keep up with his brother and sister. He chats all the time now, holding some form of conversation with anyone who will listen; Jack and Erica are usually a fairly captive audience for him. Plus, they're constantly using their actual words to him, and I think he's starting to understand a lot more than a baby his age ought to. He'll probably be talking much earlier than the twins because he seems to want to be like them.
I'm not sure how I feel about that.
On one hand, it's great to see the twins interacting with William on that level. They talk to him all the time, they play with him, and at times they're oddly protective of him. Whether or not they understand that he's their brother doesn't really matter right now; they seem to know that he's part of their family—in whatever way they understand that word—and they like being around him. It's been outstanding for William's development, too. Aside from all the talking, he seems to be getting some of the simpler concepts earlier than the twins did. Erica will hand him a toy and William will look at it for a minute, and then hold it out to Jack. He's recently much more into solids than he used to be, and that's most likely because the twins hand him food as well. Chandler and I are keeping an eye out, making sure it's nothing that could hurt him accidently, but they've been really good about giving easy things to their brother—mostly things like Cheerios and their little snacks that dissolve quickly.
According to a lot of the books—and my parents—this is pretty normal stuff. With Ross and me being so close in age, I did my damndest to keep up with him, apparently. If he did something, I would push myself to do it, too. I hit most of those big milestones much earlier than he did just to be like him.
It would seem that I've always been competitive.
On the other hand, all of this means that my little baby is growing up much too fast for my liking. He's gone from being so tiny and helpless to this independent little guy—still pretty tiny, but very interested in doing things on his own, or at least trying to.
I'm not ready for this.
The upside is that once the twins are potty-trained, it should be much easier to train William—if his big brother and sister are wearing big kid undies, he'll probably want to, too.
But still, he's so much fun now. He's still cuddly, but he's getting the basic concept of playing, even if it's just laughing at a noise or a funny face.
And he smiles all the time. It's such a change from a few months ago. My grumpy little guy is mostly gone now. He usually only fusses with a purpose these days, and the crying has gone way down. He sleeps for five or six hours at a time—I never realized just how excited I would get over five consecutive hours of sleep, but I feel mostly human again.
Jack and Erica, though, have already begun their terrible twos. I was delighted to find out that this phase isn't actually limited to age two, and can actually begin any time after they're a year old.
It's just been kicking in with a vengeance lately. It's not all the time, but when it hits, we know about it.
It was interesting to learn that a lot of their frustrations stem from just not being able to express themselves any other way. It makes sense, especially because I can see just how much they understand. They can respond to questions with gestures and facial expressions and mostly one word answers, But when they're tired, they can't always tell us; when they're hungry, or need something, they don't always have the words and it pisses them off.
I don't blame them. I can't imagine how frustrating life is like that. So we just try to go with it. As best we can, we make sure that they don't get a chance to wear themselves out too much without a nap in the near future or a snack. We give them choices instead of just asking a question they don't know how to answer, and sometimes…we just have to let them be frustrated.
Chandler has been really good with that. Unfortunately, I tend to feel myself get frustrated along with them—sometimes for them, sometimes because of them—but Chandler just stays calm and rides out the storm, patiently asking questions, not getting offended when they push him away. He's even incredibly firm when it comes to giving them timeouts or taking away a toy. He's kind about it, but never backs down.
And this guy was worried about being a father.
But probably, the most surprising part of this whole terrible twos thing is that Jack is feeling it the worst.
Erica has her moments—don't get me wrong. She can throw a tantrum with the best of them, but she's always had a leg up on expressing herself. She may still have a ways to go with verbal communication, but she's always been able to make her opinions known.
Jack…not so much. And he's always been so laidback and sweet that it's hard to reconcile him with the angry little boy he can be at times. We just had no idea that all of that was lurking within our little boy. It breaks my heart, honestly, to see him so upset. Maybe it shouldn't be so surprising after watching him the last couple of years, seeing how he likes to figure things out and do things right the first time and get frustrated when he can't, but Erica's always been the dramatic one. We just figured the terrible twos would be her domain.
But the look of utter disbelief she gives her brother when he goes on a tirade…wow. Even if she's in the middle of one herself, it usually shuts her right down.
Today's been all right, though. I think having Emma around helps our kids because she can relate to them on a different level than us. She may not understand their gibberish, but she sort of gets them.
William hiccups suddenly and grins, giggling at himself. Poor little guy has dealt with hiccups since before he was born, though if he react s this way now, he probably found them endlessly amusing in the womb, too.
I look around the table, making sure all is well—cups are filled, bibs are tied, silverware at the ready. Chandler's busy taking pictures of the scene in front of us, the camera that I gave him for Christmas having more than paid for itself with the joy it brings him. I'm sure he's waiting to get pictures of the kids with frosting on their faces.
Mike's bouncing Amelia, who's already five months old, in his lap; she's wearing a fancy party dress that she'll probably grow out of in about ten minutes, but it looks so cute. He kisses the top of his daughter's head, and I can't help but feel so happy for Phoebe and the wonderful little family she's made for herself. Motherhood has made her oddly mellow, and her "out there" level has gone way down as she focuses more energy on her child.
Phoebe's busy chatting with my friend Leta, who Rachel's met a few times and happily allowed me to include her in the party. Her baby naps on her shoulder as she listens to Phoebe, completely fascinated by whatever it is that's being said. Her three-year-old sits next to her in a high chair, waiting as patiently as a three-year-old can for cake. Leta's five-year-old is sitting across from Emma; it sounds like she's trying to give the newly-minted four-year-old lessons on life.
My mother is sitting next to Jack, her arm around his shoulders; he looks like he's mostly enjoying the attention for the moment. My father is helping Ross and Rachel pass out pieces of birthday cake, breaking it into smaller pieces for the younger set who aren't great with forks yet.
Joey's sitting next to Erica, smiling at her fondly. I don't know if it's because of her middle name or what, but he might be more attached to Erica than any of his other nieces and nephews. A plate of cake lands in front of him and gives it an approving look, pointing at it, extolling its virtues to my daughter. She stares at him for a few moments, fascinated, before her mouth drops open, waiting for a bite. She knows perfectly well how to feed herself—for the most part—but she gets to see her uncle Joey so infrequently that it's hard not to let her get away with it once in a while.
Joey slices off a forkful of his own cake and brings it to Erica's lips, and I nudge Chandler in the ribs.
"Ow," he tells me, making a face as he rubs his side. I just roll my eyes and point to our friend.
"Joey is sharing his food," I exclaim as quietly as I can, and Chandler's attention whips to them, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
"This has never happened before," he tells me, and all I can do is nod.
"Boh?" William asks and I look at him, bouncing him gently.
"Take a look, buddy, because you may never see anything like this happen ever again."
Erica chews her cake delicately while Joey talks to her, taking a few bites for himself before he holds the fork out to her again, offering another bite. Chandler points the camera at them and I can't blame him; a moment like this needs to be captured for posterity.
"NO!"
I jump as Jack yells out, a stormy look on his face, and I can feel a tantrum coming on.
"Aw, Jack," my mother says, rubbing his back gently. "What's the matter?"
Apparently, that is not the right question to ask; he can't answer it. "NO!"
"What do you want, sweetie?" I know my mother is only trying to calm him down, but big, fat tears are filling my son's eyes; I feel myself start to tear up, my go-to response for when I feel helpless with my children.
"NO!"
Everyone's trying to act casual and not stare at my poor child as he rapidly spirals out of control, and I feel bad for them, too—screaming kids are never fun.
Chandler steps in, grabbing the back of Jack's high chair and turning it to face him, squatting down in front of him. "We don't yell, Jack," he tells our son calmly.
Jack stays quiet, but his chin quivers.
"Do you want cake, or do you want a nap?"
He blinks, one of tears escaping his eyes, though his face starts to clear up.
"Which is it, buddy? Cake, or nap?"
If only Marie Antoinette had used those two options.
Jack looks like he's really contemplating the question, though—food or sleep. He glances up at me and I just shrug, waiting to see what he'll pick. I'm kind of curious now, too.
"Cake," he finally answers in a tiny voice. It comes out sounding closer to "cack," but it works.
"Okay," Chandler answers, handing a fork to Jack, turning his high chair back to the table. "Cake it is." Jack immediately stabs at a piece, clumsily maneuvering it to his mouth. "You should be nice and share it with Nana."
He grabs a piece of cake in his free hand, holding it out to my mother as he chomps on his own mouthful, icing squeezing out between his fingers. He opens his hand and the cake is now mostly crumbs, but he looks so pleased with himself that it's hard not to laugh.
My mother looks wildly amused. "That's very sweet, Jack."
He thrusts his hand a little closer to her, sticky little fingers coming very close to her nice shirt. "Nana cake," he says, crumbs popping out of his mouth.
I bury my face in William's neck—nothing ever really prepares you for how accidentally funny kids can be—but Chandler puts his hand on Jack's shoulder, waiting to get his attention. "Chew your food, then talk."
Jack stares up him, chewing slowly, smacking the frosting between his lips, and I have to walk away. "William, do me a favor and don't pay attention to anything that your brother does for the next year. I don't need you getting any ideas."
I notice that Phoebe's chair is empty—I'm sure it's time for another feeding or changing, both of which seem never ending—so I sit down next to Leta, who's rubbing her baby's—Tommy's—back as he naps even amidst the chaos around him. "Hey. Having fun?"
"Oh, yeah! I love your friends. Phoebe's very…um…" She pauses, I'm sure trying to find a tactful way to describe my flighty friend.
"Unique?" I fill in for her, turning William around so he's sitting on my lap, facing Leta.
She smiles at me. "Yes; unique. I like her, though. She's funny. And Amelia is so sweet, and her husband seems nice, too."
I like Leta, but the poor woman has a tendency to talk very rapidly when she's nervous or excited. "Where's Derek today?"
"He had some stuff to do at the office. Plus," she lowers her voice, looking around. "This isn't really his thing. He'd kill me for telling you this, but he's very socially awkward. He's one of the best litigators in the state and can stand up in front of a judge and jury and packed courtroom and speak to the entire crowd like it's nothing, but when it comes to parties and gatherings he just gets wildly uncomfortable."
I tap my knee up and down, bouncing William, and he laughs happily. "Really? He's always been so friendly every time I've seen him."
"Oh, he is friendly," she assures me, shifting Tommy onto her lap, cradling his sleeping body close. "It's just tough for him. Even just getting him to have dinner with you and Chandler is turning into a major event, and he really likes you guys." She looks around the crowded room, smiling happily. "Thank you so much for inviting me. I don't get out a lot."
"Of course. We love having you." Leta is a wonderful person, but wealth is intimidating, and when you live in the biggest house in town—possibly the county—people don't always think you're terribly approachable. That couldn't be the farther from the truth with Leta Alexander. It only took almost two years, but I feel like I finally have an actual friend in the neighborhood.
"Boh boh boh boh boh," William says, and I pick him up, turning him to face me.
"What do you think, kiddo? Do you like Leta?" A thin line of drool drips down his chin and he makes a happy noise. I pull him in to kiss belly and settle him on my lap once more. Leta reaches out for a moment to give William's belly a little tickle, and he wiggles happily.
"So, how do you know Rachel?" she asks, reaching over to wipe the cake off Andy's, her three-year-old, face. "I've met her a few times but…"
"Oh; we grew up together. We were best friends in high school, and a few years after college she moved into my apartment with me, and we lived together for about five years before Chandler moved in. She and my brother sort of dated on and off in between, though now they're pretty much on all the time." I see Rachel over her shoulder, gesturing to me urgently. "I'm so sorry; I'll be right back." She looks a little disappointed as I get up, but Mike reappears and she strikes up a conversation with him and I follow Rachel into the living room.
Phoebe's on the couch nursing Amelia, who's mostly caught on to breastfeeding. I shift William from one hip to the other, running my hand over his head, kissing his forehead. "What's up, Rache?" She looks oddly nervous.
"Okay, first, I wanted to thank you for letting us have Emma's birthday party here. Everything's perfect and she's so happy. All of her favorite people are here, and everything is so wonderful—"
"You're starting to babble, Rache," Phoebe cuts in, lifting her baby to her shoulder with one hand as she tries to close up her shirt with the other. "What's going on?"
She ignores the question and holds her hands out for my son. "Can I hold William?"
I lift him away from my side, giving him a confused look, but hand him over to his aunt; my arms feel empty without one of my kids in them, but I try to deal with it. I look over at Phoebe, who's struggling with a wiggling Amelia as she attempts to button her top. "Want some help, Pheebs?"
She sighs in relief. "Yes, please." Happily, I pull her daughter into my arms, kissing her little cheek before I put her against my shoulder, grabbing a burp rag from William's stash.
"You know, you could have just helped me button up my shirt," Phoebe tells me, and I genuinely don't know if she's teasing me or not.
"Yeah, I'm not gonna do that," I tell her, rubbing Amelia's back gently as she burps. "But I'm always happy to hold this little bundle of cuteness." She really is a beautiful baby, though I'm sure I'm biased. But she has a layer of fine, dark hair and big green eyes, and the sweetest little smile—she looks just like Mike. She's so small and delicate and often serious, and I can't get enough of her. We keep trying to convince Phoebe and Mike to move closer to us, but no luck so far. Their lives are still too much in the city.
"Guys; I'm trying to talk to you," Rachel says suddenly, holding William close; he's looking at me over his shoulder, and I'm sure I'm reading more into than is really there, but I swear he looks none-too-pleased that Mommy is holding another baby.
Phoebe says as she stands, running a finger down Amelia's cheek as I resituate her in my arms, turning her around so she can see. She's also a very nosy baby; if she's facing away from the activity for too long, she gets very distraught. "Actually, all you were doing was thanking Monica for letting you use her house."
Rachel sighs in frustration and I give her a look. "You're not dumping my brother again, are you?"
"No, of course not," Rachel answers, sounding indignant. "I'm pregnant."
Phoebe and I freeze at the same time, our heads slowly swiveling to Rachel. "You're what?" I ask, almost unsure if I heard her correctly.
A small smile appears on her face. "Pregnant."
Phoebe claps her hands over her mouth, smile still apparent on her face. "That's so great!" she squeals, and Rachel waves her hand, shushing her.
"Keep it down! No one knows yet."
I look at her, startled. "Not even Ross?"
"No. I thought…since you two were the first to know last time…I kind of wanted you to know first this time, too."
I hold my arm out and pull her in for a hug, both of us trying not to squish the babies, and Phoebe's arms go around our waists. "Oh, my God, Rache—this is great! I'm so happy for you," I tell her; Chandler and I both knew it wouldn't be too long before she got pregnant again. "How far along are you?" I ask when we break apart.
"About two months."
Wow—I was over four months pregnant before I was brave enough to tell people about William, and even then it scared me blind; I always felt like I was jinxing it. And here's Rachel, two months along, telling us like it's nothing. Of course, she was only about a month pregnant with Emma when almost all of us found out about her.
To each her own.
"And you guys can't tell anyone."
"What?" Phoebe and I exclaim at the same time.
"If I haven't told the father, you can't tell anyone, either."
"But…I tell Chandler everything." That's mostly true; I apparently don't tell him when I'm feeling bad about myself, but other than that, I tell him just about everything.
"Well, you'll just have to wait until I figure out how to tell Ross."
"'Figure out how to tell Ross'?" Phoebe asks, looking as shocked as I feel. "Wouldn't you just…you know…tell him?"
She shrugs helplessly, and William's face scrunches up a little, his lip coming out in the beginnings of a pout; without a word, Phoebe takes Amelia back into her arms and I grab my son, who almost instantly calms down. I give him a moment to see if he's hungry, but it seems he just wanted his mommy.
"Haven't you guys talked about having more kids?"
"Sort of. I said I wanted them, and he said he did, too, but…he thought it'd be better to wait until after Emma started school. I didn't want to wait that long, but…"
"Rache…you didn't do something stupid like put a hole in the condom, did you?" I ask, suddenly feeling very concerned.
"Of course I didn't. I just…may not have reminded him about actually using a condom a few times."
"Rachel," Phoebe says, sounding horrified.
"The first time that happened, it was completely an accident. We were all worked up and…it just sort of happened. I didn't think about until after." She does her best to look innocent. "It was only once or twice after that, and it wasn't like I tricked him into sex or something. Hell, we've always used protection; he never forgets. So maybe…I don't know…maybe he wanted it, too, at least subconsciously."
"Oh, my God," I moan, resting my head against the side of William's head for a moment. "Rache…"
"Look, I feel weird enough about it as it is, and I'm really worried about telling Ross, so I don't need it from you guys." Her eyes fill with tears and I sigh.
"Rachel," Phoebe says again. "Do you realize what you did?"
I don't know that I would have expected Phoebe to be the voice of reason in this, but I'm glad I'm not the only one shocked.
"I don't know that it made a difference, okay? I don't know exactly when I got pregnant—I mean, I got pregnant with Emma while using a condom, so it's not like it couldn't have happened again." Tears spill down her cheeks, and I reach out to put my arm around her. "I know it was a dumb thing to do, but it's not like I'm trying to trap him, and it's not as if we don't want more kids…he's going to hate me, isn't he?"
"No, he won't hate you. He loves you. Just…make sure you tell him the whole story, okay? If you hide it from him now and he finds out later, he's going to be pissed."
"Yeah," Phoebe agrees. "But if you tell him all of it when you tell him about the baby, he'll probably understand."
"Besides, Ross loves kids. I think he'll just be happy you're having another one."
Rachel gives me a little squeeze before releasing me, drying her eyes. "Besides; he lied to me about getting the annulment after Vegas, so I kind of owe him one."
I bite my lip, then shake my head. "I'm going back to your daughter's party." My brain is still trying to process the last five minutes as I walk back into the dining room; Chandler sees me and smiles.
"Hey, honey." I guess the look on my face speaks volumes because he suddenly looks concerned. "Everything okay?"
"I have the craziest news that I'm not allowed to tell you," I answer, passing William to his father. Chandler holds the baby up for a moment, smiling at him.
"Hey, stinky-winky." He settles him against his side. "What sort of news could Mommy possibly have that she can't tell Daddy?"
I just shake my head. "I'm not at liberty to say."
"What if I guess it?"
Wouldn't be the first time we've circumvented a "you can't tell anyone" stipulation that way. "Later," I assure him.
Before he can ask me anything else, I hear Erica's little voice at my side. "Mama."
I look down at her and almost burst out laughing—she's naked. Aside from her diaper and the cake smeared across her face, she's completely naked. "Erica Bing, where are your clothes?"
She's done this a few time, though mostly just before bed. Once she figured out that she could take off clothes on her own, she took great joy in helping us at bedtime or bath time by stripping down to her all-together. She's always enjoyed being naked, and now that she knows how to do it on her own, I don't know that there'll be any stopping her.
However, this is the first time she's done it in public. Naturally, she would pick a moment when just about everyone she knows is here.
"Mama up."
"Up please," I correct—she may not be wearing any clothes, but she still needs manners.
"Up peese," she answers, and I pull her little naked body up, shaking my head. Joey comes rushing over, looking panicked.
"Mon, I'm so sorry. I took her out of her high chair so I could get her cleaned up and all of a sudden there was nothing but a pile of clothes and no Erica." He reaches out with Erica's bib, wiping off her face as she giggles, turning her head away so he can't clean it. "Don't disappear on Uncle Joey like that," he tells her, sounding more like a disciplinarian than I've ever heard before.
"It's okay, Joe," I tell him, Erica suddenly wiggling against me, struggling to get down. "Erica, what is it?"
"Jack!" she exclaims, pointing, and I hear his giggles just moments before he streaks past me, also naked.
"Oh, God," Chandler groans. "Erica, stop teaching your brother your bad habits."
She wiggles harder and I put her down before I drop her; instantly, she's off like a shot, chasing after her brother.
"Andy, stop!"
I look up and see Leta chasing after her son, who's also decided that this is naked time. He giggles as he crawls under the table, catching up with the twins. I see Emma tugging at her dress—what is it with kids and nudity?—and drop down to my knees, trying to spot my rogue children. They scamper out from under the table and run into the kitchen, Andy right behind them. Let and I chase after them, the laughter of the adults in the dining room following us, and for now, I forget about Rachel and her interesting situation.
I have exhibitionist children to catch.
*A/N…I don't know where that Rachel thing came from. I intended to make her pregnant, but I never set out for it to be like that. But now I find it interesting, so I'm going to leave it.
Also, naked babies are the funniest.