The Atwood DITFT: Generation 1, Chapter 11
Author's Note: Welcome back to the Atwood legacy! A few announcements, first of all... I know I am not even really updating either of my other legacies at all lately anyway, but I wanted to say that the Carraways have been temporarily postponed. I'm not quitting them, because I do love them, but I'd like to just have 2 legacies going instead of 3 xD I will try to do the Richmonds again soon, but I have just been really inspired with the Atwoods and can't help but play them a lot. Haha. So plan on seeing basically what you've been seeing: lots of Atwoods, occasional Richmonds, and not too much Carraways. :P Anyway, let's have chapter 11! After this there's only one chapter left of gen. 1!!!
The Atwood DITFT: Generation 1, Chapter 11
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Thirty-fifth birthdays passed for both Nick and Marigold with fairly little celebration. Nick cut his hair, deciding it was time to stop covering his eyes like a teenager; Marigold opted for a more ‘motherly’ outfit, but emphasized, “Just because I don’t show off my thighs anymore doesn’t mean I can’t dress stylishly!” Both found that though they had a few more wrinkles here and there, they still felt just as young as ever.
Yet somehow, for all their youthful energy, the triplets never failed to exhaust them.
“Go to bed, Rowan,” Marigold moaned as she cradled the infant. “It’s the middle of the night! Be tired!”
“At least Raleigh has stopped crying,” Nick said. “I’m not sure I can get her to fall asleep, but maybe she’ll be quiet long enough for us to do so…”
“That doesn’t matter at all if Rowan won’t quiet down,” Marigold replied.
“And it’s only a matter of time til Reagan wakes up, too…”
“Maybe we should buy sleeping bags and just live in this room.” Marigold sighed, and so did Nick. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than two hours of sleep at a time.
Babies were hard to care for; Nick and Marigold had learned this from Mason. But Mason was an “easy” baby, who learned to sleep through the night fairly quickly. And he was one baby. Now there were three. Nick sometimes found himself crying right alongside his daughters.
Marigold never showed signs of frustration outright, but Nick could often see her struggling to keep calm. “Please, please go to sleep… Please…”
Life became an endless cycle of bottles, diapers, and snuggling.
And crying. Lots and lots of crying.
Of course, both Nick and Marigold made a conscious effort to make sure Mason knew that he was valued and loved just as much as his sisters. They didn’t want him to think that they no longer cared for him now that they had so much else to occupy their time. Mason was a dream child, hardly ever giving in to fits of jealousy. He reveled in the time his parents spent with him, and enjoyed the rest of his day playing by himself with just as much contentment.
The farm began to go into a state of disrepair. Nick only had time to care for it every other day at most. Plants withered, their blooming harvest beginning to rot. Nick felt immensely guilty about it, but he knew his family had to come first.
One night, all four kids were asleep earlier than usual.
“Looks like we have the night to ourselves,” Nick said with a flirty grin. “What shall we do, Mrs. Atwood?”
“Oh, I have a few ideas, Mr. Atwood,” Marigold said.
It had been too long since they’d had time to themselves.
“One thing, though,” Marigold said, breaking away from the kiss. “No more kids. Not now, at least. Let’s… space them out a little.”
“That’s a condition I’m willing to take,” Nick said. Then he led the way to the bedroom.
* * *
“Hey, Mason buddy! You excited for your birthday? It’s coming up pretty soon, you know!”
“Yes Mama! I’m excited! But guess what?”
“What’s that, bud?”
“First comes the twiplets’ birthday!”
“That’s right,” Marigold said, smiling. She was proud of how selfless her little boy was, even though he had yet to turn five.
Soon enough the day came. All three girls grew up beautifully.
Rowan, the youngest, was the girly-girl of the three. Her curly golden locks, the same color as her mother’s, were incredibly long for a one-year-old. It was all Marigold could do to keep her hair under control and not looking like a rat’s nest. She had Nick’s light blue eyes, but Marigold’s outgoing nature.
The middle triplet, Raleigh, was the smiley one. Her short hair was obviously the same bright hue as her father’s, and her parents were anxious to see how beautiful it would be when it got a little longer. She, too, had pale eyes, though they might have been a bit lighter than Nick’s. Neither parent could tell for sure.
Last but not least was the firstborn, Reagan. She was a more serious child, with huge eyes the same color as Marigold’s and almost no hair. From what her parents could tell, when her hair did grow in, it would be a deep black. They weren’t exactly sure where this color came from, but Marigold again suggested that it came from her father, whom she’d never met. Reagan’s nearly bald head looked silly to the parents, so they dressed her up as best they could with a little blue bow.
Mason was a bit overwhelmed when he was first confronted with his three toddler sisters, but he quickly adjusted. Soon he was playing comfortably with all three of them.
After a time, Marigold began to feel ill. Nick was worried, and begged her to let him take her to the doctor, but she refused, saying she would get over it soon enough.
The symptoms did not seem to be going away, however. Both of them worried, though each had a different idea of the causes of her sickness.
Indeed, one night after Marigold had gotten up to vomit yet again, she caved in and took a pregnancy test. As she waited for the results to show up, she wandered back to the bedroom, deep in thought. Sure enough, after a few minutes came the verdict: a little plus sign that meant she was carrying their fifth child. “Oh, baby,” she said, rubbing her stomach absently. “What are we gonna tell Nick?”
* * *
“I’m gonna go outside, otay Mama?” Mason said, toddling along on his short legs.
“Okay, buddy,” Marigold said tiredly as she struggled to get Rowan to sit still on the potty while Raleigh cried for a bottle from her crib.
“Too crazy in there, huh bud? I know the feeling,” Nick said with a tired smile as he weeded a tomato vine.
“Yes, Daddy. And too loud to hear what I play on the xylophone.”
Unfortunately for the boys, Marigold soon brought the triplets outside to enjoy the fresh air. They immediately congregated around the block table, laughing and chattering in some made-up toddler language.
“How’s I gonna compose a musterpiece now?” Mason moaned.
Unfazed by their brother’s lamentations, the three girls began to chew on their wooden blocks, giggling uncontrollably the whole time.
Marigold approached Nick nervously, watching their four kids scrambling around in the grass. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Nick stood up from the plant he was tending. “Of course.”
Unsure how to begin, Marigold continued to watch the toddlers and said, “We have beautiful kids, don’t we?”
“They’re all wonderful,” Nick agreed. “Thanks to you.” He smiled, but Marigold remained serious. “What’s up?” he asked her nervously. “Everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Well, mostly. I do have one… well, there’s something you should…”
“Go ahead and tell me, Mar. Whatever it is can’t be worse than keeping it to yourself to worry about alone.”
“I’m… uh, I’m pregnant.” She winced as the words came out, preparing for Nick’s anger or fear or worry, whatever he was going to say.
He didn’t say much. “…What?? Really?”
“Yes, and I know we can’t afford a baby right now, and I really didn’t think this was going to happen, and I know we already have four toddlers and it’ll be hell to try to care for a fifth kid right now, and I would have prevented this if I could, but…”
“Are you kidding?” Nick exclaimed. “This is GREAT news!” He jumped up and down a little with excitement.
“I can’t wait to have another kid! Marigold! This is wonderful!”
“Really?” Marigold asked tentatively. “I mean, we already have four… and we’re poor right now, and…”
“Don’t even worry about it,” said Nick confidently. “We’re fine. Mason is starting school soon, and the triplets are getting a little more autonomy. Soon they’ll be able to talk and walk and use the training potty on their own, and then think! No more diapers! Besides, I have a huge harvest just waiting to be sold. With it, we can build a whole new room if we need to. We’re fine,” he repeated.
“Maybe you’re right,” Marigold said, allowing herself to smile. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s my optimistic girl,” Nick said with a wink.
“Everything will be fine.”
* * *
Soon enough, Mason’s fifth birthday rolled around. Nick and Marigold bought him a cake, and Nick helped him blow out the candles with a bittersweet enthusiasm.
Mason grew up to be a very handsome little boy. He insisted on cutting his hair short like his father’s, and could not contain his excitement when his parents presented him with his gift: a pair of cowboy boots just like Nick’s.
That night, another family member had a birthday. Little Tucker, Phoenix and Neville’s kitten, grew up into a fine, fluffy cat that was an excellent mixture of his parents.
Mason went over to reintroduce himself, and found that he and Tucker fast became friends. Now that they were both bigger, Tucker didn’t seem to feel the need to attack Mason, and Mason found that the cat was actually fairly cuddly.
Suddenly Mason noticed his father and sister in the kitchen.
“Hey, Dad! What are you doing?”
“Come over and see,” Nick said.
“I’m teaching Raleigh to walk, see?” Nick smiled as he felt his daughter’s tiny hands gripping his own.
“Wow, she’s small.”
“Can you believe you used to be this little?”
“No way, I was definitely bigger than that!”
Nick laughed. “You learned to walk just like this, though!”
“Wow, can I help?” Mason exclaimed.
“You know what you could do to help me? I think I hear Reagan crying; she’s probably lonely. Want to go give her a hug?”
“Hi there, Reagan. Wow, you’re little, too!”
“You’s big, brother!” Reagan said with wide eyes.
“Um… ew. I think Reagan just soiled her diaper. I’m just gonna… Hey Mom! Reagan’s smelly!” Mason hurried away.
Marigold laughed. “Thanks for your help, kiddo.”
“No way… I was never that small.”
For his birthday, Mason got his very own room. His parents cautioned him that he would have to share with baby number five if it turned out to be a boy (which Marigold had a feeling it would), but Mason didn’t seem to mind the idea of sharing. In fact, already he was sharing the room with someone else-Tucker, who had a cat bed placed near Mason’s bed especially for him. The two boys slept happily in each other’s company.
Slowly but surely, Nick’s tiny cabin was growing into a house fit for a family.
The family was growing, too. Though they had not yet reached their second birthday, the triplets’ personalities were already shining through clear as day, and each of the girls was vastly different from the other two.
Rowan, the youngest, was by far the friendliest. She was always looking for a person to talk to, and although she didn’t quite know how to talk, she always tried. Baby babble was most commonly coming from her mouth, out of the three. She was a bright, easygoing baby who loved to spend time with anyone who would pay attention to her.
The middle triplet, Raleigh, was a little firecracker. She was always filled to bursting with energy, and would tumble around the house trying to run before she even really knew how to walk. She liked being alone just as well as she liked being with others, but one thing she couldn’t stand was being cooped up. Though her hair had begun to grow longer, Nick and Marigold kept it cut short so that she wouldn’t accidentally get it caught on something while she was careening around.
Finally, there was Reagan. Though she was an outgoing and friendly baby like her sister Rowan, she was also far less patient. If left alone for more than a few minutes, she would begin to cry for attention. She hated being ignored, and would do anything to avoid it. She also seemed to be the “ring leader” of the triplets, and was always convincing the other two to do things.
One thing that made Reagan unique from the others was her apparent tomboyishness. While Raleigh and Rowan loved playing with horses and bunnies, pretending they were their own babies, Reagan wanted nothing more than a tank or a rocket ship to destroy things with. “Truck go smash!” she would shout while her sisters were cuddling their stuffed animals.
“Mama! Mama!” Reagan called. “Truck go smash! Come see!”
“Just a minute, Ray,” Marigold said with a laugh. “Let Mama finish her lunch.”
“No! Now!” Reagan said.
Mason, too, was growing up. He started kindergarten not long after his birthday, a change he faced with equal parts nervousness and excitement.
“I just can’t believe how big he’s getting,” Marigold sniffed.
“Just like I can’t believe how big I am getting! Gosh, baby, I hope you’re ready for the craziness you’re about to get yourself into, hmm?” she cooed to her belly. She couldn’t wait to meet their newest family member!