Cody whips his head to Karissa. “They didn’t say anything about being sore!”
Jesse smirks. “Uh-huh. And now who’s scared? See? I did my research.”
“Oh my gosh, you guys are such babies!” Addison groans.
“They could never give birth,” Ella declares.
“Yeah,” Megan adds. “Imaginethemneeding a C-section…”
It’s the loudest laugh of the night, the shoulders shaking kind of laughing. But the men don’t disagree; they know they couldn’t handle it.
While everyone else cleaned up lunch, Jesse, Cody, and I went out to hide Easter eggs for the kids. And since Cora’s the oldest at not even five, our hiding spots were…generous.
Eggs laying right in the grass. Bright ones tucked in the mulch, a few scattered around the swing set. Very advanced stuff.
We head back inside to straight chaos. Megan’s on the couch tandem feeding the twins under the blanket Lydia absolutely despises, her feet kicking out the side like she’s trying to escape.
Wes and Addie have the rest of the toddlers on the floor, surrounded by plastic farm animals and enough noise to actually qualify as a petting zoo.
Once everyone’s ready, we head outside like a herd of cattle. Mom decides she wants pictures first.
“Before anybody gets grass stains!” she calls, clapping her hands like a coach gathering her players.
We wrangle all the toddlers in front of the big bush that’s just starting to bloom with white flowers. It looks really pretty. Spring is finally showing up after a cold winter.
Megan and I decide that Emma and Cora, being the oldest cousins, have the best shot at not dropping the twins. We hand each girl a baby and stay close, hovering like two anxious first-time parents would. Everyone else crowds in too, close enough to grab a child but far enough to stay out of the frame.
“Beverycareful,” Jesse tells Cora.
Cody echoes to Emma. “Yeah. Careful, Em. Careful—no, CAREful.”
Wesley and Karissa are trying to get Gage and Weston to stay sitting in their designated spots. Gage thinks it’s a game of “escape the photo,” and Weston is blinking back tears, his lip wobbling. When Hallie wraps her arm around him to help keep him still, he immediately breaks into a full cry.
“Okay, QUICK! Take it!” Addie says, already backing out of the frame before Weston’s crying infects the rest of the kids.
“Alright, everyone, look up here! Smile!” Maureen calls, holding her phone high and snapping burst after burst. The adults behind her start making animal noises, clapping, waving, doing whatever it takes to get the toddlers to look human and not feral.
The older kids actually smile. The babies, including the twins, are nothing short of confused. Megan’s shoulders creep higher with every squirm, Naomi sliding in Cora’s hold.
“I’ve got her, babe,” I whisper, stepping in and repositioning Naomi quickly before disaster hits.
Cody squints at the lineup of children and snorts. “They look like a carton of actual Easter eggs.”
He’s not wrong. Our girls match Megan in pastel pink-and-white floral dresses, tiny bows on their heads, frilly socks, the whole nine yards.
Cora and Hallie are matching in yellow-and-purple dresses, matching bows clipped into their hair.
Emma and Gage are color-coordinated in pale green and soft blue, and Cody and Karissa are matching them.
And Weston, Addie, and Wesley, all in jeans and tops that somewhere include light blue.
Maureen lowers her phone and waves us all forward.
“Alright, now one with everyone.”
Everyone grabs their own kids, shuffling in close, fitting together like a puzzle we’ve been building for years. It hits me then…we’ve tripled the size of this family in less than five years. It’s wild. It’s beautiful. It’s…us.
“Okay!” Mom calls out, smiling big behind the phone. “Everybody, look right here!”
