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It’s Christmas Eve, my absolute favorite day and night of the year!  You would never guess it by the weather though, the sky is a soft blue with gentle puffs of clouds floating slowly past and the sounds of birds fill the 65 degree air, even a hawk can be heard close by.

“Marco, don’t let them do that!  It’s too dangerous for them yet!”  I holler from the porch. 

That man is going to be the death of me, he is more of a child than the children, they’re three, and it’s him I’ve got to keep an eye on.  The twins at least think about what they shouldn’t do, Marco just does it.  He’s got both of them on the four wheeler right now and I can hear their peals of laughter as he’s driving through the fields.  I just wonder who was responsible enough to remember to put on the helmets, him or the children.  I’m just the more uptight one of course, I’m the mom.

We moved into this house four years ago.  It’s a new two story white plantation style house on a 15 acre horse ranch with wrap around porches with rocking chairs, porch swings, fans and screened-in areas. There was an older home on the property which we did some renovations to and the property manager and his family live there now.  There’s also a barn, stables, work sheds, gazebo, pool house and pool, and now a play house.  Marco has his work shed which he dabbles in sometimes but he had his grandfather’s antique hand tools professionally matted and hung so they hang in the family room with all of our family photos and memorabilia.

When the children were babies I’d bring their bassinettes out on the porch and sing to them, read to them, and just talk to them watching them sleep.  As much as I love the babies, Marco adores them, he worships the ground they walk on but Carmela, she has him wrapped around her little finger, he was lost to her the second he looked into those same deep dark eyes as his with her thick curly brown hair.  Her brother Marco, who is older by 15 minutes, is one of the sweetest, naughtiest, most loving and witty boys in the whole world.  He will get caught doing something but charm his way out of it with those big hazel eyes of his and those beautiful long lashes.  The pregnancy was a very difficult one.  When I was three months along I lost my plug, I was so afraid I was going to lose the babies.  The doctors ordered me on bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy which I did under the guard dog Marcos threats, he was always at my side.  When he couldn’t be there he enlisted the help of Elsie, Janie, and Christine along with some other wonderful people Marco hired.  I was already a high risk pregnancy because of my age and we knew that going in.  I was a beached whale when I was pregnant, giving birth to twins and being on bed rest, all while having an affair with Snickers and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups which was not conducive to minimal weight gain.  The babies were two weeks premature which isn’t much, but enough that their lungs were not fully developed, they had to stay in the hospital a little bit longer and it was the worst two weeks of my life.  Marco and I were at the hospital round the clock, there was always one of us there if not both.  This is when I missed my mom the most, when I sat next to the incubator watching my children with breathing tubes shoved down their throats and needles stuck all over their skin. 

When the babies were finally able to come home Marco’s parents came down for a week to help out and I was extremely grateful for that.  His mother and father accepted as one of their own children, always making me feel appreciated.  When they were here last year we discussed building a cottage for them on the property since they’ve been talking about moving from the Northeast, they’re finally sick of the snow storms, high taxes and congestion. 

I think it would be great having them here, I don’t have either of my parents and Marco has finally laid all of his past demons to rest.  He has come to terms with everything, embracing both his past and the future of our family, making today the best it can be.  I also think that seeing me without my parents has brought the realization that they won’t be around for much longer, I believe he doesn’t want to have the same guilt that I do once they’re gone.  My family was very close growing up, my brother and I still are, and the kids having their grandparents here to spoil them and to save them from those dinners they hate would be great for all of us. 

“Mommy!!!”  Carmela calls to me as they speed by, her little arm waving in the air, smiling from ear to ear.  I am going to kill that man, I swear it.  Her brother is more the strong silent type, but to be honest I don’t think he gets a chance to speak, she’s always doing the talking for both of them.  He’s the thinker, the introvert, the one who wonders why and how instead of where and when.  Right now he’s also got the Cheshire Cat’s grin on his handsome little face, loving the joy ride.  But the biggest grin has definitely got to be Marco’s.  He is living his second childhood with the kids and he is having a hell of a blast. 

As I stand here watching my family my heart just wants to burst with the love and happiness I feel and I wonder every day, how did I get this lucky?!  Marco has made every single day the best day of my life.  My God, I remember the day I told him I was pregnant.  He held me as I cried tears of joy, my beautiful strong, powerful, controlling husband.  I think he wanted to cry as well, he didn’t say a word for a few minutes, I think because he had such a huge lump in his throat and he didn’t trust his voice to keep from cracking.  He called his parents and they cried, then I called my brother and I think he wanted to cry.  Then we invited our friends over, Elsie, Janie, John and Brian and broke the news to all of them over dinner.  These four people turned out to be completely invaluable during my pregnancy and the dearest and kindest individuals in the world, taking turns babysitting and waiting on me, and the babies really, while I was forced to lay on my big fat ass for almost seven months.  

Another loud screech and that’s it, I can’t watch anymore so I decide to go inside to make lunch for the four wheeling maniacs. 

“You stay here, Zeus, and watch them.  Call me if anything happens.”  I look down at the faithful white pit bull sitting beside me on the porch.  I think he’s actually smiling at me while thumping his tail on the wooden planks like he’s answering me, ‘I got this, you go ahead’. 

“I know you do, big boy, that’s why I love you so much,” I tell him, scratching him on his head between his ears.  His smile just got bigger as his tongue falls out the side of his mouth.  “Crazy mutt,” I mutter as I go inside letting the screen door slam behind. 

Zeus is one of our three dogs, we’ve got a golden lab named Honey, a German shepherd named Spike, and Zeus, a pit bull.  Zeus usually stays close to me while Spike and Honey are always following after the kids.  Honey came from the animal shelter, John told us about Spike and Zeus.  We knew we wanted guard dogs that would be loyal to the family and to the children so John spoke with some of his cop friends and when these two came available we scooped them up.  We also have three cats that have the run of the place.  One of them I have to lock up at night on the office because she stands outside mine and Marco’s bedroom door and meow’s in the morning until one of us gets up to feed her.  I thought he was going to kill her one day after an unusually late evening, he was so mad.

Getting the whole grain bread, turkey breast, apple sauce, raisins, milk and juice out, I start on the sandwiches for my motley crew.  The kids get triangle pieces with the crust cut off, something’s are just universal, Marco gets a man’s big fat sandwich toasted, with lettuce and tomato and a side of mixed fresh fruits, and I get a smaller version of his.  I’ve got to admit it though, although my skills have improved, he’s still a much better cook than I am and I couldn’t be more grateful.  Not only is he better but he enjoys it, and that I just can’t understand.  Yeah, I get the whole thing about being happy about taking good care of your family, but actually enjoying the task of cooking?  That one is beyond me.  So needless to say, when we were in the process of designing this house the kitchen was all his.  And he did a magnificent job.  It’s true what they say, the kitchen is the heart of the home, and we spend most of our time here.  I guess you would call it a chef’s kitchen with a double oven with a warming drawer, a huge refrigerator and another side freezer in the pantry, which is more like a little room, a wine refrigerator and two sets of big farm style sinks with a huge pot rack hanging over the large butcher block island.  The design, like the rest of the house is southern plantation style country with wide wood plank floors, big windows, exposed natural wood rafters in the kitchen and family room and built-ins throughout the house.   I absolutely love our home, not because it’s beautiful but because it’s filled with love.  There’s even a big metal bell hanging outside the back door to call everyone in to eat like those used on farms to call the crew in from the field.

I walk out the back door to call in my crew and Zeus is right where I left him, turning his head to look at me with his tongue hanging out panting away.  I just hope they can hear me over the roar of the engine of the four wheeler.

Ding ding ding!!!

Nothing.

I climb down the steps with Zeus at my heels trudging across the yard but it looks more like a football field than a yard.  Half way across they see me, thank God, and I start waving to them to come on in.  When they signal to me that they understand I turn and head back towards the house. 

About half way there, they pass me and all three of them yell, “We’re gonna beat you!!”  followed by the cackling of the three kids in the race they decided we’re in.

I yell to the backs of their heads, “Wash your hands!!”

When I reach the house the kids have already gotten half their lunch finished, which is a pleasant surprise, I don’t have to goad them today, but Marco’s at the sink cleaning up the dishes. 

I come up behind him sliding my hands around his waist and ask, “So Mr. Bond, what’s the secret weapon you used to get them to eat so well?” laying my cheek against the warmth of his back, squeezing him tightly.  I love this man so much, still.

He turns in my arms and looks down into my face wrapping me in his arms and with that million dollar smile on his face, he kisses me lightly.

“Who’s Mr. Bond?” Marco Jr.’s voice cuts into our moment.  We both can’t hold back our laughter at the innocence of his question.

Pulling away from Marco I take his hand and lead him to the table so that we can sit and eat lunch with our children.  In our house, meal time is family time.

“Mr. Bond, Marco, James Bond, is a secret agent in the movies, a very handsome one too, and very smart.  All the ladies love him.”  I look over to Marco, and he’s shaking his head laughing, so I continue, “When your father and I first met after our, um, first date, he didn’t ask me for my phone number…”

“Because I didn’t think she’d give it to me!” Marco cuts in.

Carmela’s eyes shoot open and her mouth opens up full of a bite of her triangle sandwich.  Marco Jr.’s brows furrow together, they are completely shocked and confused.

“You didn’t want to go on another date with daddy, mommy?” the poor baby really looks sad.

“Of course I did, but let me finish, he had it already planned you see, he’d gotten my number from my phone so he didn’t have to ask me.  That was a secret agent move, so since then I’ve always called him Mr. Bond,” I finish the story and the children look very pleased with the antics of their father.

Carmela jumps up and down in her chair excitedly, “Daddy!  Daddy!  Tell us about the time you met mommy again!”  Marco Jr. looks up at us as well with a smile on his precious little face.  My children are hopeless romantics, like their parents.  He takes after me more than he does his father, with the far-away look in his eyes, his gentleness and patience but once he’s reached his limit, there will be hell to pay.

Marco gets that dramatic edge to his voice as he begins to tell the children about our first night, the G rated kid friendly version.

“I saw your mother from across the street from the chair I was sitting in, and your aunt Janie, I didn’t know her yet, was standing with some other friends of hers and she started yelling hi to someone.  When I looked, I saw it was your mother and that was that exact moment I fell in love with her.”  He looks at me and the sincerity of his words are so evident in his eyes, I know I’m glowing with my love for him as well.  He continues, “I watched her all night long with her friends, even as she danced with another boy,” he makes his tone firm looking right at the kids.

Both Carmela and Marco Jr. look at me shouting, “MOMMY!!”

“I didn’t even know your dad then!”  Then I tell Marco, “Don’t make it seem like you were Mr. Innocent.”  I don’t want to tell them that Marco had this blonde bimbo pouring out of her dress hanging all over him.

“Now, kids, it’s ok, your mom knew that it was me she belonged to so she sent all of those other guys away with their tails between her legs.  And I knew she was disappointed I didn’t come and talk to her before she decided to leave,” and he gives me a sideways glance smirking at some private joke.

I give his arm a swat, “You, Marco, are horrible!”

He laughs, “I didn’t want to scare you away too fast, Elizabeth!”

The children are laughing at our pretend little squabble as Marco continues, “I noticed your mom was saying good bye to Aunt Janie and the rest of her friends and I wasn’t going to let her leave without making her mine.  So you know what I did?”  He looks at Carmela and Marco Jr. wide eyed, he’s got them totally hooked even though he’s told them this story a hundred times.  This was a bedtime favorite for years.