Adjusting to Parenthood

CALLUM

I’m the lone wolf, still operating from home. My workspace is tucked away in Catherine and Dante’s barn conversion. I devote the wee hours of five to nine in the morning to crank out as much work as I can before heading back home.

Dante’s the one fielding calls from the cell I set up for our new business. We’re gearing up to interview potential team members next week before we start taking on contracts.

The speed at which things are progressing is mind-boggling, but I guess having a supportive family makes a difference. It’s been a week since Ella joined our family.

Seven long, tiring days.

The first night, Ella had us fooled, sleeping like an angel. But the next night, she was up every hour for feeding, and by morning, Violet was sleep feeding her with Tyler and me pitching in.

Zach, the lucky bastard, slept through the whole thing.

The nights got progressively harder until Violet finally gave in, placing Ella right next to her on a pillow last night. Tyler and I took shifts every few hours to make sure none of us accidentally rolled onto her.

Even with her nestled between Tyler and Violet, we weren’t taking any risks. Not with Ella.

Ella slept like a log, latched onto Violet’s breast for five straight hours. When I woke up at seven this morning, Tyler’s eyes were heavy with fatigue.

I left them all in bed and moved Ella to the crib after sneaking in a quick fifteen-minute cuddle. I positioned the crib right next to Violet, turning on the handy app that alerts me if Ella wakes up or stirs.

Mommy.

It’s odd to think of Violet in that role. It was only a year ago when I met her. She was young and innocent, just eighteen, with mesmerizing eyes that seemed to pull you in.

Now, she’s our fiancée and the mother of our child. It’s hard to believe how fast things have changed.

I never planned to settle down. I didn’t want kids, a family, or even a house.

I relished the freedom of casual hookups on drunken weekends, leaving the girl behind when the weekend was over. I loved my mustang and the thrill of speeding down open roads.

The bachelor life.

Nothing holding me back, yet here I am with the four of them. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

The house is quiet as I walk in. I head straight for the bedroom where everyone is sleeping, except for Ella. She’s wide awake, staring up at me with her bright eyes.

Her eyes still take my breath away. Each day, her right eye becomes a shade brighter, turning into a dark cobalt blue, while her left eye remains a deep brown.

The contrast between the two makes the blue eye appear even more striking. We have our first doctor’s appointment in town this afternoon, and I’ve prepared a list of questions.

Will she be blind in one eye? Is that why there’s such a stark difference in color between them?

Is there anything we need to do, or are they fine just the way they are?

Our girl is unique, that’s for sure.

I reach down to unfasten the Velcro that secures her in the sleeping bag. “Good morning, my girl. Did you sleep well?” Her arms fling upward as the bag loosens, and she stretches out, bringing her tiny legs up to her tummy and her arms way above her head.

She looks so tiny like this.

I guess that’s why Violet’s stomach wasn’t all that big.

“Shall we pick out some clothes? Daddy’s not very fashion conscious, but I think we can find something that mommy hung on your rail,” I say, picking her up and placing her head in the crook of my arm. We head to her room.

I go straight for her closet, which is as large as her room. We plan to convert it into her playroom when she’s a little older, probably when she starts crawling. But for now, it’s filled with clothes, baby blankets, and a stockpile of wipes and diapers.

“Let’s see, shall we? This outfit looks adorable, and look…it even has tights to keep your little legs warm.” She looks up at me silently.

My mother advised me to talk through what I’m doing, as babies pick up on words even though they can’t speak yet.

I find it easier to talk to her when we’re alone. Sometimes, I catch Violet watching us silently when I haven’t heard her near. It makes me self-conscious, but she always gives me a smile that makes me want to bend her over and have my way with her. But that can’t happen, not yet.

In fact, none of us has been awake enough to want sex, except maybe Zach. Though, I’m sure only Violet has given him a blow job or helped him out in the shower.

I’ve definitely heard him give her an orgasm or ten every night before bed.

“Today, you are going to go in the car for the first time. It might be a little scary. You’ll be in a seat that looks like it has far too much padding, but apparently, the safety ratings are high.” I lay her down on the changing table, carefully removing her onesie and changing her diaper.

I’m still getting used to changing diapers, but I think I’m getting the hang of it now. I’m always scared that I might hurt her, but I’m assured she isn’t as fragile as she looks.

With her diaper changed, I toss the old one in the diaper bin that Kelsie got us. Then I put the dirty clothes in the clothes bin next to it.

Her tights are a bit tricky to put on, but I manage, even if they look a little lopsided and too long for her tiny legs.

Next, I put on her shorts, or as Violet calls them, bloomers. They’re a deep mauve color that complements her red hair perfectly.

Then, I put on her shirt. I unbutton it all the way down, lay it on the table before placing her on top. I put one arm in, then the other, and button it all the way up.

Then I undo the first button, just in case it makes her feel claustrophobic like it would me.

“There, you survived daddy dressing you. Now we should really get mommy up for some milk, it’s been three hours. You must be starving.” She moves her little head from side to side with her mouth open as if just the mention of milk made her hungry.

“Oh yes, baby girl, you are hungry, aren’t you?” I laugh at the one-sided conversation I’m having with a baby. As I pick her up, I see Violet standing in the doorway, naked except for her unflattering brief panties.

I can’t wait to see her in silks and lace again. I hate those briefs on her, they don’t flatter her small frame at all. And she is small.

Her stomach is almost completely flat again. Her ribs are visible as if she’s lost weight.

But with the way she’s eating, she should start looking healthier soon. I smile as I walk over to her.

“Good morning, mommy. I think someone’s hungry.”

“I think you make a good daddy for someone that didn’t want kids,” she says to me before looking down at Ella. “Isn’t that right, El? Daddy’s the best?” Ella starts to fuss as she hears Violet’s voice, turning her head toward her, so I place her in Violet’s arms.

She latches onto the breast immediately. Apparently, we are lucky; some babies struggle but not Ella. She knows what she likes, and she likes her mother’s breasts.

“Morning, baby.” I pull Violet into me for a kiss, careful not to squish Ella in the process. The kiss is all tongues and teeth and lips. Sexual tension and need zip between us as we both pull away breathless and Violet’s cheeks flush.

“Are you hungry, Vi?” My thumb strokes her cheek as I hold onto her for a second longer. Five more weeks. That’s all, then you can have her again.

“Famished,” she states.

“Where’s your dressing gown, baby?”

“On the crib.” I grab it as we walk through the bedroom silently. Tyler and Zach are both still huddled up in the bed. Neither of us tries to wake them, though Zach should get his ass up.

He has a knack for sleeping right through Ella.

Though I must give him credit, he stayed up until two a.m. before crashing.

“Here.” We struggle to get Violet’s gown on, but in the end, we manage, and she does have to relatch a fussy Ella. But she swaps sides anyway. To my dismay, she doesn’t do the dressing gown up, walking downstairs with it open in only her panties.

Dante has been given a strict no-entry rule for our house during the mornings. Violet has a habit of wandering around in her birthday suit until she showers and gets dressed, usually around noon. Catherine, on the other hand, is a constant presence. I feel a pang of sympathy for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Good morning. How was last night?” Catherine is already at the stove, frying eggs, when we enter the kitchen.

Ever since Ella came into our lives, Zach has eased up on his rules and allowed Catherine to come over and prepare our meals. It’s a welcome change from our usual fare of toast and snacks.

“Morning, Catherine. It was rough until four in the morning, then I let her sleep on my chest. Tyler and Callum stayed up to make sure we didn’t accidentally roll over her,” Violet says, patting my butt as she walks by. She grabs a plate and starts piling on sausages, bacon, tomatoes, and mushrooms, all with one hand.

“Eggs?”

“Please,” she replies, her mouth full of sausage. Her appetite has skyrocketed in the past week. She’s constantly eating, snacking, or drinking.

Catherine slides two fried eggs onto her plate before starting on another batch.

“You’re the best.” Violet grins at Catherine, setting her plate on the counter to dig in. I serve myself breakfast as well, and we eat in peaceful silence. When Ella detaches from her second breast, Violet hands her over to Catherine. She quickly ties her dressing gown, and I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that we’ve avoided another unexpected nudity incident.