Once Upon a Time

“You know, it’s your sister that’s making mommy so crazy,” I tell Grace as I rummage through the fridge.

“Who?” Grace asks. The past week she’s been asking that every time someone says anything to her. I tell her she has to stop crying, her daddy will be back soon – she just looks me right in the eye and asks me who. I tell her she needs to stop pulling on my earring and she asks me who. I’m not sure why, but it really annoys me. Noah says its hormones, but what does he know? I mean, he’s never been pregnant.

“Your sister, that’s who,” I tell her, walking over to her where she sits in her high chair.

“Who?” she repeats.

I put her little hand on my stomach. “Your sister,” I say again. “Aren’t you excited, baby?”

She nods but I know she doesn’t understand. “Hungry,” she says impatiently. “Scrawberry,” she demands.

“We ain’t got no scrawberries, Grace. What about a banana?”

“No hanana, scrawberry!” she squeals.

“Noah!” I call and he pops his head into the kitchen with a paint brush in his hand and dark red paint on his clothes. I take in the sight, a smile pulling at my lips. “Do we have any strawberries?”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath. “No, I’m sorry, I forgot to get them.”

“See, no scrawberries,” I say. “But, if you eat a banana, momma will go get you as many as you want. How bout that?”

“No hanana,” she says.

“Try a corndog,” Noah urges. “You might have to cut it up, though, ‘cause sometimes she doesn’t feel like biting into it.”

I nod and open the freezer. Within the next minute I have a cut up corndog in front of her and she’s scarfing it down. Noah walks in and drops down into a chair like he weights five hundred pounds.

“Well,” he starts. “I fixed it.”

I smile apologetically. “I’m sorry, Noah,” I start but he holds up his hand.

“Teag, stop, it’s fine.”

“It’s just, normally it wouldn’t bother me.” I explain anyway.

He grins. “I know, and Teag, calm down. It’s fine. All I had to do was do the trim again. It’s all evened out now, sweetie.”

I sit in his lap and sigh. “Thank you, Noah.”

“Anything for my girl,” he answers, giving me a quick kiss on my lips. I just smile and snuggle up against his chest. “I love you,” he tells me.

“By the time I actually have this baby you’re gonna hate me,” I grumble into his neck.

“That could never happen,” he assures me, rubbing my back. “I will always love you, sweetie.”

“I’m already asking you to do stupid things for me and this is only the beginning,” I cry.

“Honey, it wasn’t stupid. The trim was crooked. Of course you would want it fixed – and you never actually asked me. I offered.”

A tear fell down my cheek and I swipe at it furiously. “I hate getting all emotional all the time. I’m not an emotional person, I don’t know how to do this, Noah.”

He laughs. “You are too and emotional person,” he disagrees. “I’ve never seen you not expressing your emotions. As a matter of fact, wasn’t it emotions that led you to pouring searing hot coffee on me?”

I can’t fight my smile, so I just grin up at him. “I guess so,” I admit. “Anger.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “And you’ll never know how sorry I am for doubting you.”

“Yeah, that hurt quite a bit.” I tell him.

He smiles at me. “I know, but you weren’t the only one hurting.”

“It was your own fault,” I scold. “And now you know never to distrust me again.”

He laughs and pulls me close to him. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Do you think Grace is gonna be jealous?” I ask him now. I’d been wondering about it for a while. Grace has gotten a little better, but I’m not sure she’s up for sharing her daddy.

I feel him shrug around me. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what’s been wrong with her lately so who knows?”

I nod and kiss his neck. He moans softly and pulls me closer.

“More!” Grace shrieks, clapping her hands together as she ruined the mood.

I get up to get Grace another corn dog, but Noah pulls me back down. “More,” he mumbles huskily.

I shiver and kiss his neck again while Grace chants “more, Momma,” over and over again.



I wake up to Grace screaming and I groan and roll over in bed, deciding it’s Noah’s turn to check on her this time. When Noah doesn’t get up and Grace doesn’t stop screaming I force my eyes open, squinting into the darkness as I realize Noah’s not there. When I glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table I see that Noah left for his last day of work an hour ago. I vaguely remember Noah kissing me and telling me he loves me before leaving.

I sigh and push myself up, feeling a little queasy. Now is not the time for morning sickness. Grace is standing in her crib, tears streaming down her face as she holds her arms out to me. I roll my eyes and pull her to my chest, thinking she’s still crying over Noah, but as I press my cheek to her forehead I notice she’s burning up. I pull away and place my hand on her face.

“Oh, baby, you have a fever,” I sigh as I carry her through the house in search of a thermometer. When I find one in the bathroom it tells me her temperature is one hundred and three.

“Momma,” she moans, burying her face in my neck. I put her back in her crib and cut the TV on, changing the channel to Nickelodeon. She continues crying as I wet a rag and press it to her forehead. She watches me like I’m crazy but I think she likes it. I replace my hand with hers and rush to her room to grab some Motrin. When I get back she’s throwing up in her crib. I groan and push the door open to the bathroom. I run the water, checking to make sure it’s cool and then put in the stop. I use a wipe to clean Grace off a little and then give her the medicine. She takes it, but only after I broke down in frustration and yelled. I kissed the top of her head, thanking her for taking the medicine and then took her to the bathroom, peeling off her vomit-covered clothes and placing her in the tub. I turn off the water, throw the clothes over the hamper and then give Grace a bath.

When we’re all done I dress her and put her back in her crib while I call Kim and get the name of Emma’s doctor, because I don’t know who Grace’s is. After I hang up with Grace I call the doctor and make an appointment for Grace, all the while she’s screaming her head off. I pack her diaper bag and then text Noah and tell him what’s going on. He promises to meet mere and then I leave, more worried than I’ve ever been in my life. Not only have I never been around a sick baby, but this is my sick baby, which is a world of difference.