Dechen (Dada) POV:
As it turns out, a lot could go wrong without Grace being with us. Right after our food was delivered Atticus overfed the baby. Even when Calisto told him to stop he kept going. Now, Clara is laying down on the living room floor passed out.
Her chunky belly is distended and her mouth is wide open in a silent snore. "Look what you did, man. The poor thing is about comatose." I tell Atticus while gesturing to our baby.
All he's doing is sitting back and smiling smugly. "Yeah, and what about it? She's quiet and asleep with a full belly. It looks like good parenting to me."
Calisto rolls his eyes and crosses his legs. "She's going to be sick when she wakes up. I'm not cleaning up her vomit, either."
"If she throws up, it's on you, Att." I say rather bluntly. Grace is going to throw a fit when she hears about this.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, dude. I did all of us a favor." Atticus says with a rather blasé attitude.
I grunt and grab the remote, turning on some horror movie. We all sit back to relax while Clara stays on the floor. We're an hour into our movie when she starts to fuss a little bit. Clara rolls onto her stomach and let's put the cutest, little whine ever.
She wiggles her little bum in the air, probably trying to get comfortable, and grunts a little bit. Her face turns an ungodly shade of red, and she lets out a huge fart. I cringe at the sound, then turn to Atticus to see his reaction.
The man is looking extremely proud of our daughter right now. "Good girl, Clara!" He exclaims while slowly clapping his hands in a dramatic fashion.
"You're saying that now, but you're going to be the one to change it." Calisto points out.
Atticus blanches and stands up, running out of the room. I stand up to give chase. No way is he getting out of this! He's going to change that nasty, blowout diaper. "Come back here, Att, and face the consequences of your actions!" I bellow down the hall.
He sharply turns a corner and slides into a different corridor. I manage to catch up to him and am about to grip the hem of Att's shirt, when I slip and fall on the slippery marble floor. Atticus's laugh echos down the hall as he runs into a spare room and locks the door.
Standing up, I run to the door and frantically bang on it. "Come out, Atticus! You're changing this diaper!"
I hear his laugh come from behind the door. It almost sounds evil like. "No way! I'm not changing that blowout!"
Sighing, I stomp on the floor, imitating my footsteps walking away. In reality I just plant my ass down on the floor to wait him out. Ten minutes pass before I hear the clicking noise of the door being unlocked.
When Atticus sees me sitting on the floor, he rushes to slam it closed again. I don't let him, though. My foot slides into the crack of the door, while my forearm stops it from slamming closed. "You really though you would get away with it, huh?" I ask while approaching Atticus.
He's slowly backing away but he's not getting far this time. I rush him and grab onto his shirt, dragging him out of the room and back down the hall. Att fights me the whole way, whining about how he doesn't want to change the blowout.
By the time we're back in the living room, Clara is wide awake with a sagging diaper. Calisto is sitting beside her on the floor and is playing with her feet. I push Atticus forward while Calisto throws him a diaper and a pack of baby wipes.
"You should get to it. We don't want her to get a rash." Calisto tells Att with a huge, smug smile.
Atticus gags but heads towards his task with a grim look on his face. Honestly, you would think we were sending him to death with the way he's acting. "Papa's going to change you now, babygirl." Atticus tells Clara when he takes a seat on the floor.
Clara just blinks at him and shoves her tiny fist in her mouth. She suckles on the knuckles and drool runs down her hand, onto her wrist.
Atticus scoots closer to Clara and untapes her diaper. The poop is bright green and runny. I see Atticus gag and he shoves his forearm under his nose in an attempt to block the smell. "Holy shit, kid! You stink!"
Clara giggles and kicks her chubby legs out at him. Atticus rushes to grab onto Clara's ankles before she makes a bigger mess. With one hand wrapped around her ankles, Att lifts her butt slightly and begins to wipe. He gags a little bit, but manages to wipe her clean in a timely manner.
"Come on, kid. Let's blow this joint." Atticus announces as he picks Clara up.
"Where are you going with her?" Calisto asks seriously.
"Uhh, I'm going downstairs to heat her up a bottle."
"No, leave her here with us." Calisto snaps while reaching over to pull Clara out of his arms.
"What's your problem, dude? I'm taking our daughter to see one of her favorite people. There isn't a problem." Atticus snaps back.
Calisto sighs wearily and rubs his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. "You always let Clara get into shit when you're alone with her. Wether it be paint, Grace's makeup, or baby powder."
Atticus looks offended at Calisto's words. His cheeks pale and then turn red in embarrassment. He brings Clara closer to his chest and kisses the top of her head. All the while, Clara is oblivious to everything going on around her.
She has a handful of Att's shirt in her mouth and is nomming happily on the material. "What I'm hearing you say is that I'm not a fit parent." Atticus says through gritted teeth.
"I never said that! Don't put words in my mouth!" Calisto bellows, standing up to point a finger at Atticus.
"Well, at least I'm not a tight ass like you! I actually know how to have fun! All you do is complain, mope, and then complain some more!" Atticus shoots back while patting Clara's butt.
The shirt she was sucking on fell out of her mouth when she heard the raised voices of her Papa and Daddy. "And you can never take anything seriously! Since we wanna talk about my problems, let's talk about how you constantly overfeed Clara, refuse to get up with her in the night, and let her get into shit that she shouldn't!"
Atticus shakes his head and presses Clara's head into his neck. She's currently looking like she's about to cry. Her face is turning red and tears are welling in the sides of her green eyes. "No! I let my daughter have fun! Something you don't know how to do! She's a baby, Calisto! She needs to get paint everywhere and play in makeup! It's part of her development!"
"She's not developing, Att! She's going to stay this age for the rest of eternity!" Calisto yells at full volume.
Clara breaks at that. Her eyes start to water and she opens her mouth in a silent cry. She holds her breath for a few seconds, and then lets it out in a huge scream. Rushing forward, I pull Clara out of his arms and bring her close to my chest.
"Until you two can sort your shit out, I'll be taking care of Clara. She doesn't need to be subjected to your fighting." With that said, I turn on my heel and make my way to Clara's nursery.
She stopped crying as soon as she was in my arms, which I'm extremely grateful for. "Hey, princess. You want a baba?" I ask Clara as I take a seat in the rocking chair.
All Clara does is blink her wet eyelashes at me. I chuckle and tuck her up against my body. "We're going to call Harold to bring us a bottle. We'll drink some of Mama's milky, have a nap, and wake up and play. How does that sound?"
As soon as I said, 'Mama's milky' Clara started looking around for Grace. I probably shouldn't have mentioned her. Now, Clara's going to want her milk straight from the breast. I most definitely don't have those parts, so she's going to have to deal with a bottle.
Grabbing my phone, I call down to the kitchen and request a bottle for Clara. It takes ten minutes for it to show up, and it isn't Harold who delivers it. It's one of the newbies that recently started working here. He hands the bottle to me, coos over Clara, then heads back downstairs.
After shaking the yellowish milk in the bottle, I rub the fake nipple across Clara's lips. She latches onto the bottle and begins to suckle strongly. "See, it's the same milky, just from a different source!"
Clara grunts and continues to suck on the bottle while I rock us. As the bottle slowly empties, her eyes start to close. She took a nap earlier, but she honestly needs another one. This little babe can be a handful when she's tired.
By the time Clara finishes her bottle, she's fast asleep and pulling air through the nipple. I slowly pull it out of her mouth, then bring Clara up to my shoulder to burp her. She fusses a little bit through her burping, but calms down when she lets out a tiny burp.
That's probably the best I'm going to get. Standing up, I move to the changing table and put Clara in her sleep sack, then I move her to the crib and lay her down. My precious baby is fast asleep.
All we have to do is survive the rest of the day without Grace. It's going to be challenging, but I think we can do it. As long as Cal and Att settle their differences that is.
Grace (Mama) POV:
Sitting down for this ladies lunch is challenging without my baby. Their talking about politics, their husbands, and everything in between. All I really want to do is go home and cuddle up to my princess, but this is my priority right now.
"Why don't you show us some photos of Clara, Grace? You should've brought her." Liz, another high society wife tells me.
She doesn't have any kids or a human to take care of. All her concerns are what color to dye her hair and if her husband is cheating on her, but I'm always happy to show pictures of my little girl.
"Let me grab my phone really quick." I tell the ladies. We're all gathered around a table, eating finger sandwiches. These would look massive in my little girls hands, though.
I turn my body around to grab my purse that's hanging on the back of my chair, then grab my phone out of the side pocket. I unlock it and scroll through my photos to find my favorites.
This one is of Clara sleeping in my massive bed. She's sprawled out in the sheets and sucking on her pacifier. Her red hair is strewn all over, and her pajama shirt rose above her belly, showing the cute chunk of her stomach that I love.
The ladies all coo over the photo and then I scroll to the next one. This one is of Clara after eating some fruit. It's smashed all over her face, staining her skin blue. She's smiling at the camera and her eyes sparkle with happiness.
The last one I pick is of Clara while nursing. It's taken from my point of view. Her lips are wrapped around my nipple and areola, while her closed fist rests on the upper swell of my breast. Her eyes are closed, her red eyelashes fanned out on her cheeks.
One of the women in my group gasps when she sees the picture. "You're nursing?" She asks like it's a crime. It's well known information that I nurse Clara. I talked about it on national television with Dominique when we first adopted Clara.
"Yeah. It provides all the nourishment she needs and made a strong bond between Clara and I. It's relaxing for the both of us." I respond whine turning my phone screen off and shoving it back in my purse.
Speaking of nursing, my breasts feel full. I'm going to need to pump soon or I'm going to leak. "Wow, you're so brave for doing that. I could never ruin my breasts by nursing." The same woman, Laura, says.
If Laura had a baby and nursed it, the child would only be drinking liquid plastic from how many boob jobs Laura has had. Nevertheless, I put on a fake smile and laugh like it's the funniest joke ever. These women are politicians wives and I have to be careful of how I act, as it could come back on Calisto.
We converse some more until I can feel my left breast start leaking. Grabbing my purse I tell the ladies, "If you would excuse me, I have to go to the ladies room really quick."
Liz also stands up and says, "I'll come with you. I actually have to go too."
With a weary sigh, I allow her to come with me to the ladies room. She goes to a stall, while I sit in the chair in the corner. My pump is in my large purse and I pull it out before lifting my shirt. Once I unlatch the clips on my nursing bra, I attach the suction cups, and flick the switch on the pumps so they start filling.
Since Clara isn't with me, all this milk is going to have to go down the drain. It almost pains me to have to pour it, but breastmilk needs to be stored after pumping.
Liz eventually comes out of her stall but stops short when she sees what I'm doing. She gives me a awkward smile but her eyes are trained on my breasts. I discreetly cover the tops of my breasts with my shirt, and go back to browsing my phone.
Dechen sent me a photo of Clara sleeping in her crib and I smile at the photo. God, she looks adorable. A few more hours and I'll be back with her. That's all I have to remember...