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“This is just… all wrong.” I run to the back door between the laundry room and the kitchen and go out onto the deck. I don’t even bother with a coat, welcoming the cold when it stings my face.
Asher shows up behind me, draping a blanket across my shoulders. “Sweetheart, please tell me what this is all about.”
I spin around and flail my arms in the air. “This is about everything not being like I imagined.”
He pulls me against him, comforting me. “I’ll bet all new moms say that. Things will calm down.”
I push off him, frustration crawling up my spine. “That’s the issue. Thingsarecalm. Asher, look at our house. It’s clean. You know why it’s clean? Becauseweclean it. There aren’t takeout containers spilling out of the trash, because we actually have time to cook. And there isn’t laundry piling up on the floor,because it’s actually getting done. Byme. Byus. And you want to know the worst thing? I feel…rested.”
He laughs. “And that’s a bad thing because…”
I throw my arms up again. “Because I hardly even feel like a new mom. Because the British bitch my mom hired to watch the twins all night is like a dang robot.” Hot tears flow down my face. “Because I feel like a guest in my own home.” My head shakes. “I don’t want this. We’re practically freaks of nature. No new parents are like us. I want to experience being a new mom. The dirty house, eating takeout every night, even the sleep deprivation. I want to go through it all. Because right now, I barely even feel like they’remykids.”
“Babe, I had no idea you felt this way.”
“Neither did I really. I just thought I was going through normal mom emotions. But Asher, I don’t want a nanny getting up with the babies at night. I don’t want a nanny at all.Iwant to do it. I don’t care if I’m a zombie all day. I want to change their diapers and rock them and sing to them. I want to be theirmother.”
“Oh, dear,” Mom says, peeking her head through the door. “Allie, are you having an emotional moment?”
“No, Mom, I’m not. I’m having an epiphany.”
She grabs her coat and joins us, Christina obviously asleep somewhere else. “About what exactly?”
I look to Asher, because I don’t really want to hurt anyone’s feelings.
“Allie is having second thoughts about Isla.”
Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t like her?”
“Isla is fine, Sarah. Very helpful. But I think that’s the issue. She’stoohelpful. As are all of you. I mean, you’ve been great. But—”
“I don’t feel like a mom,” I say, butting in. “I’m watching all of you raise my babies. Do you know the only time I spend withthem is when I’m feeding them? Because as soon as someone sees they’re done eating, they take them away.”
“Oh, honey. We’re helping. All new moms need a little help.”
“Littlebeing the operative word.” I wrap the blanket around me and pace the deck. “You’re doing so much, all that’s left for me and Asher to do is cook, clean, and sleep. But what I really want to do is raise my own darn babies. I had less than two days with Christopher. I never really got to be his mom. I want to cherish every moment I can get with the twins. I don’t care if I don’t get to shower or sleep or if I have to live off DoorDash food. I just want to experience what every other new mom gets to experience. I even heard Bug complain yesterday that she rarely gets to hold them. She’s their sister, for God’s sake, she should get to participate in their care. I appreciate you wanting to help, but I really wish you’d have hired me a housekeeper or a chef instead.” Done with my tirade, I sit on the snow-covered bench and freeze my ass.
Mom sighs, shakes her head sadly, and looks at me with empathy. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll go break the news to Isla. She’ll be gone in an hour, sent off with a full month’s pay.”
Before she’s at the door, I call out. “Mom? I know you meant well, and I’m not saying I don’t want you or the others here to help. But maybe just one at a time. And notallthe time. There are two of us, three counting Bug. We can handle this.”
She comes back and cups my jaw. “Of course you can, honey. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ll go take care of this right now.”
Asher and I watch as Mom goes into the living room and has a talk with Isla.
“You don’t really think Isla is a bitch, do you?” Asher asks.
“No.” A burst of air rushes out of my lungs. “She’s actually very nice. And good. And was probably trained to be a nanny to the royals or something knowing my mom.”
He laughs. “I have no doubt she was. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’ve been ready for over ten years, Asher.”
He kisses the side of my head.
Isla waves at us from inside, probably happy to have earned four weeks’ pay for less than two weeks’ work.
My mom is on the phone when we come back inside, so she can’t help when both babies begin stirring at once. Asher and I smile at each other and go to them.