Lately, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the past—mine specifically. Growing up, I never could have imagined my life would lookso…happy. All I knew when I was a kid was sadness, loneliness, and every other horrible emotion in between. I was scared, so often terrified I wouldn't be around to grow up and escape the house I was raised in.
I broke that cycle.Idid that, and I am so fucking proud of myself for creating a life with the man I love.
I have children I love more than myself most days, and I cannot imagine my life without them in it. I can’t imagine not being here for every big, small, and in between moment.
I’m not alone anymore—in fact, I’m so far from it, I can barely remember what that emotion feels like anymore. I have a family, one I chose and one who chose me right back.
Gone is the girl afraid of her own shadow, and in her place is someone strong, confident, and brave.
“Can we watch the sunrise with the kids tomorrow morning?” Oliver asks me, and I smile into his lips.
“Of course we can,” I tell him.
As we take a moment just with us, Oliver’s hands around my waist as we silently sway to no music, I take a mental picture of this moment.
The childhood my kids will have will only be one full of laughter, light, and happiness—the exact opposite of what I grew up in. The home Oliver I have created despite all we’ve been through is something worth celebrating.
“Can you believe we made it here, love? I can’t thank you enough for giving me our beautiful children and this life of ours.”
“We made it because we deserve it, Ol,” I remind him. “And you as a father is quite literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He presses a kiss to my lips, deepening it before a knock on the door breaks us apart, our kids rushing down the hall to open it to their cousins, Uncle Grant, and Aunt Hads.
“Are you ready for the chaos, my love?” I ask him, a huge smile on my face.
“I wouldn't want it any other way, Mrs. Baker.”
The Manuscript by Taylor Swift
“Claire,howdoesthislook?” I say as I hoist Caleb, my youngest son, over my shoulder. “Do you think this would look good on the Christmas card?”
“Well,” she laughs as she clicks some photos, “per Hads’ instructions, no, but I can always give you copies for your latest scrapbook.”
“Were matching sweaters really necessary?” Oliver asks as he walks over with Aspen in his arms. “And outside in this weather? If one of my kids gets sick, it’s on you, Carter.”
“Ol,” Paige says as she grabs Aspen from him. “What did I tell you before we left the house this morning?”
“No arguing with Grant.” He rolls his eyes. “I know we’ve done the whole matching thing before, but it feels cheesy.”
“Cheesy, yes, but adorable and family-like was the main goal here,” my beautiful wife says as she holds our newborn, both of them wrapped in coats. “We’re a big family, Oliver.”
“Well, I wonder why that is.” He smirks.
“What did I do?” I feign innocence.
“You procreated a bit too much with my little sister,” he jokes. I know he’s joking, because he cried every time he held one of our kids in the hospital. Uncle Oliver is a big softie, but he’s too afraid to admit it.
“Hads and I wanted a big family,” I reiterate.
“Claire and I stopped at two,” Jacks says as he carries more equipment over for his wife. “And remind me to send Ella and Leo a gift for watching them while we’re here. Cece and Ezra were a bit fussy this morning.”
“Ezra Grant Moore was being fussy?” I say, my hand on my chest. “Well, it looks like he takes after his namesake.”
“Oh, then we can blame you for him not wanting to sleep all last night?” Jacks jokes.
“I’ve never had any problem getting him down when I watch him.”
“Because you have the secret touch,” Claire tells me, and I fist bump her.