“I didn’t mean now. Obviously later. No offense, babe, but you’re in no shape or form to even start the practicing part of trying to conceive,” Asa jokes. I’d laugh if it didn’t pull at the sutures I’m currently sporting.
“Good, glad we can agree on that. Little man is about to wake up kicking and screaming to eat. I’ll make his bottle if you’ll change his diaper,” I barter with him. I don’t tell him it’s time for me to dump the milk in my pump into pouches anyways. I’m not sure how long I’ll keep up with this before we switch him to formula. Right now, it works, so I’ll stick with it until it doesn’t anymore.
“I see what you’re doing, Montana Rose, sticking me with the stinky job.” Asa chuckles.
“Hey, you smelled it, you dealt it. Not to mention you are the one hoarding our son in your arms, barely allowing even your mother to hold her grandson.” I roll my eyes while I walk into the kitchen. Seriously, she was here earlier today, and I had to tell Asa to give him up for a few minutes because he was having a hard time sharing.
“Your mom isn’t being very nice to your dad.” I turn around, a smile on my face, and see another sight that seems to make my heart go pitter-patter. Asa moved Camden to the couch. He’s crouched down talking to our boy with that sweet grin of his I love so much, and I know with every depth of my being, I’d give Asa another child even if I gave him hell not long ago about bringing it up. Maybe he should just wait a few more months, then maybe I’d renegotiate with him, though I really do love the idea of having our children close together in age. I know they’ll fight like dogs when they’re younger, but as they get older, their bond will be as amazing as Asa’s is with his brothers and sister. And that’s what I’d really love for our children to have as well.
“Hey, Asa,” I get his attention. I watch as he looks up, hair falling over his forehead into his eyes.
“Yeah, babe?” One hand is holding Camden’s stomach even though he can’t move a whole lot on his own yet. Seeing that protective touch in him I know he’ll always have.
“Talk to me in about six months or so. Maybe we’ll get to practicing then.”
“Fuck yeah. I’ll make a note of that.” The desire in his eyes tells me he won’t forget. Knowing him, he’ll commit it to memory and will ask me exactly six months from today. I’m already looking forward to it.