CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I'd for sure thought that after having my own child that I would have a total different outlook on life, but let me tell you that having a child - or two in my case - was nothing like I expected. I think it went a little like this:

Three in the morning you hear the cry of an innocent baby, but along with that you hear the tired groan of the twenty-seven year old father.

"Where'sa mute button?" I was feeling around on Rose's face trying to locate the 'universal mute button'

"It's on the baby." She replied, "and it's your turn."

"DAD! Please mute the baby!"

"Why did I agree to have kids with you?" I sighed, lifting my legs up and placing them down on the cold floor of the flat. Rose just giggled as I shuffled out of the room like a zombie. Feeling my way to the nursery, I happily made it into the room without breaking an arm or something. But as legend has it, I'm the clumsiest person ever, so of course I stubbed my toe against the cot and cause Jude - who was actually the good, fast asleep, better than his bloody loud sister - to wake up. So, at three in the morning this bloke is holding two little buggers in his arm, and as if trying to get them to stop crying, I started singing.

"Shh, please come on Jude. Stars shining bright above you." Jude's crying goes a little softer, Aubella keeps crying at the high volume from before. I keep singing the first verse of 'Dream A Little Dream For Me' to the kids, until I forget the lyrics.

"Uh," as an attempt to cover it up, I'm humming but neither of them seem to be impressed by this, "I completely forgot the lyrics / but that's okay because I am exhausted / please go to sleep my little gems / your dad is about to fall asleep." Jude's crying ceased, and Aubella had her little finger in her mouth, almost closing her eyes, "thanks a load." My voice was a low whisper as I lowered Aubella into her cot, and then awkwardly returned to the bed.

"Nice song you've got there." Rose said as I got back into bed.

"Shut up, I'm knackered."

Somewhat later, I had to get up to drive Drew to school. I thought, why not be the nice father and make him some cereal? Instead of being the nice father, I ended up falling asleep in his cereal. As poetic as it sounds, it was certainly not. I had milk all over my face, my hair and in my eyes. Drew found it the most hilarious thing that I had ever done and was laughing all the way to his school. The one thing I can say about childbirth, is it's all sleepless nights, and vomit on your clothes, and no happy-go-lucky 'oh my! I just had a kid' nonsense, just the whole sleepless night wandering and then accidentally stubbing your toe against the furniture crap. There's also the falling asleep everywhere thing, there was not one place where I hadn't fallen asleep on, once while playing the piano I just dozed off and my head dropped onto the keys, I'd fallen asleep on my laptop's keys, I'd even once in the parking lot fell asleep on the hooter of my car - though, security wasn't too impressed by that. Rose was the same, we had dedicated our lives to these little children, there was no more watching telly at night or pointlessly talking at the kitchen counter. Though one night, we attempted to watch our favourite television show together, but we were both too tired to make it through the first fifteen minutes. Rose fell asleep on my stomach and my head just slugged backwards and that was that. Drew really showed responsibility there, we were out for an hour or so, but in that hour he took care of Aubella and Jude.

When the children started walking, or rather crawling it was a whole different affair. My mum insisted on visiting to see the little gems, and though I was excited, I just hoped the kids wouldn't break anything. So, on Monday my mother called and said she was coming down to Cambridge to visit us, Stockport was at least a day's drive considering it was way up in Britain. And my mother absolutely refused to fly. She flew down once and one of the hostesses called me saying you should consider anxiety medication, your mum's a bloody riot. Tuesday she arrived, with all her flamboyance and eccentricities.

"Grand-mum!" Drew exclaimed, he'd always loved spending time with my mother, she taught him all these special tricks in the kitchen and he loved that.

"Hi Drew - Harry, be a doll and help me with my bags and tell little squirt here to stop callin' me grand-mum, makes me feel old and I'm only 32." She said, and though the thirty-two was a bit far-fetched - I nodded anyway.

"Yeah, hello to you too, mum." I mused, and she stepped closer to hug me and planted a soppy kiss on my forehead. As I was carrying the bags of groceries to the kitchen - since my mum always had the belief that I was somehow malnourished, even though she'd taught me how to cook for myself - her and Rose were having a chat, and I liked that they got along. I also wondered that if Rose's parents were still here, whether they'd like me, or whether they'd react the way Finn did. See, Rose's parents passed when she and Finn were pretty young, in this freak-accident. And that's why they grew up with their aunt and uncle in Norway. Nonetheless, I still wondered how they'd be if they were alive.

"H, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to welcome your own mother inside?" My mum's loud, and prominent British accent tore through my thoughts.

"Ah, excuse me. Mother, welcome to my humble abode." I laughed, stepping out of the kitchen.

"Now, where are these little gems you keep yapping on about?" Blushing, Rose led my mother to the nursery, and I could hear the gushing, the squealing, and all that feminine stuff that went down as she met the two little gems.

"Harry! You did not tell me your off springs were so beautiful!" she had Jude in her arms, while Rose trailed behind her, Aubella in her arms.

"Yeah, thought I'd spare the details." I shrugged, but I was still smirking as I leaned against the counter top.

"Look at my son, all modest." There was a certain kind of proudness in her voice, and I loved hearing it. I loved knowing that what I'd become impressed my mother I just loved it.

Lunch was a huge success; my mother absolutely (obviously, almost.) loved our two little gems, favouring Jude since he looked like me. She left a week after that back to Stockport. As the children started progressively growing up, Rose suggested we move out of the bustling Cambridge - that bragged with the highest population - I suggested London, but she didn't think it would be much of a change. We settled on something smaller, right outside Cambridge, St Ives since I had a nice job and Drew was happy in his school and since I didn't mind driving into the city everyday. Jude proved to be a faster learner than Aubella, because by the time he was one he could play a melody on my baby grand. His first words came as a Christmas present, as we were sitting at the piano, my hands on his helping him play the melody of 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas' and during the crescendo - or rather chorus - he stated "crescendo." Rose started crying, while I for once didn't - I was just smiling profusely saying, "yes Jude, crescendo, crescendo!"

Aubella's first words came not too long after that, except hers weren't as poetic as Jude's. It was still special, one afternoon after her nap Rose heard her calling softly and unsure: "mama?" and that was that her first words were mama. They started walking not too long afterward, and it was a bittersweet experience, it's like I wanted the children to grow up, and prosper and reach great lengths! But at the same time I wanted Jude to stay the sweet little forest-eyed kid who sat by me and played the piano, and Aubella to be the cute kid who smiled all the time. I wanted them to get older, but I didn't want them to, in the same sense - as I said bittersweet experience. Drew was now sixteen and heading for tenth year. I couldn't believe how tall he'd gotten; apparently Sierra Wells had blessed him with her tall genes because he was now outgrowing me. Supposed now the children at school can't call him 'short holt' anymore. Everything seemed to be moving so fast, my life, my love for Rose, just everything kept moving at this inhumanely fast pace. By the time we'd settled into our house in St. Ives, Rose suggested we needed a car - or rather something I referred to as a 'mum-van'.

"Have you lost it?" I asked, and she frowned, "I mean, a mum-van, Rose?"

"Well, we do have three kids." She stated, and though it was true, they fit in the two cars we did own. Rose had one of those small city cars that she drove around, whereas I needed something to boost my ego; so I had one of those rich man's cars, which made me look egotistical even though I wasn't.

"Yeah, but they fit in the cars." I argued, and she sighed.

"I know for a fact if Aubella vomits on your leather seats, you're going to kick her out of the car." She looked at me with her all-knowing eyes, and I melted.

"That's also true," I shrugged, "I still hate the idea of a mum-van."

"You wouldn't have to drive it." She suggested, stepping closer to me. Her lips almost pressed against mine, as she played with the hem of my shirt, "for me?" she asked, and that was that.

"Shut up and kiss me." I said, bringing my lips down to hers.

After the kiss, she smirked, "guess that's a yes."

"Curse me for having my brains down in my balls." I sighed, and she giggled, stepping off me, leaving me with a smidge of an issue downstairs, and a breathing problem upstairs.

-

goodman harold get your testosterone under control

and keep your hands off your junk

[[scoffs]]

seriously tempted to put sex as the song of the chapter but I'd be laughing too much

hELP