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Song: One step at a time by Jordan Sparks
Chapter Twenty Five
Week 27- The baby kicks and stretches, and can make grasping motions. A smile, especially during REM, can be seen in a baby. At the sound of familiar voices, the baby's heartbeat may decrease which can mean that your baby is comforted by these sounds.
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"Clyde," I whisper-yell, poking his cheeks to try to get him to wake up.
"What?" He mutters, tightening his arm around my waist.
"I have to pee."
With a groan, he lets me go reluctantly and I fling off the bed and waddle as fast as my swollen feet can take me to the bathroom.
Releasing the liquid that Alden pushed down from my bladder, I sigh with content and waddle back into the bedroom so that I can on the bed and wake Clyde up.
"Jesus, Stila. It's 9 in the morning," he grunts, pulling a pillow over his face.
"Exactly! It's 9 in the morning and we have lots to do today. Come on, you lazy bum!" I say, grabbing my pillow and hitting him with it.
With a squeal, I get flung from my spot beside him onto his stomach, with him holding me up so that the baby doesn't get squished.
"You thought you could just have a one-sided pillow fight with me and I wouldn't retaliate?" He asks, raising his eyebrow and looking deliciously handsome.
"It worked, didn't it? You're awake and I think you're thinking you should make your really awesome pregnant girlfriend some breakfast in bed."
"Stila, I love you," he whispers, looking deeply into my eyes.
"I love you, too. But that doesn't mean you're getting out of making me breakfast. Go!" I push, giggling when he falls out of the bed.
As he opens the door, Cluff comes bounding in with one lone feather in his mouth.
"Hi, buddy. Who's my favorite kitty?" I purr, petting him and leaning back on the headboard.
20 minutes later, Cluff has settled into the space between my armpit and arm, when Clyde walks back in carrying a dish full of bacon, eggs, and toast, as well as a glass of Orange juice.
"Mm, it seems as if you're the best cook ever," I say, taking a big bite of the bacon and giving a small piece to the crying kitten.
"Don't give him people food! This is why he never eats his own food," Clyde mutters, shaking his head and grabbing a piece of toast for himself.
"Cat food is disgusting. Would you want to eat it?" I ask him, scarfing down the bacon so that only 2 pieces remain.
"Of course not. But animals like raw food."
"They only like it because they don't have the experience of eating the food we eat. If they did, they'd have as much energy as us and would probably be smarter than they are now," I babble, thinking back to my high school Psychology class.
"Stila, what the fuck," Clyde laughs, shaking his head and petting Cluff.
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"What do the instructions say to do?" Clyde asks me for the millionth time, holding a piece of wood up and unable to grab the packet from my hand.
"I told you what they said!" I reply, getting frustrated.
"Read them to me one more time."
As I re-read the instructions for how to put the crib together a 5th time, my foot taps loudly on the floor.
"Stila, honey, slower," he says, trying to follow the instructions to the tiniest sliver of detail.
You wouldn't think it would be this hard to put a crib together, but since Clyde has not once ever put something together for himself, it's hard considering he doesn't know the difference between a nail or a screw.
After the 10th time of orally reading the instructions to him, he finally put the crib pieces together and we both looked at the finished project.
"I'm so proud of you, honey!" I say, wrapping my hands around his neck and kissing everywhere on his face.
"I'm proud of me, too," he grins.
The finished Nursery looks perfect. The walls are painted a soft sky blue, with clouds dotted in on spaces. The white crib that was picked out had a matching changing table and dresser. Alden had a closet for clothes, as well as a closet for his toys.
All in all, I was proud of the Nursery outcome.
Kissing him numerous times, we walk down to the kitchen where I begin to prepare dinner.
"I can't believe that took all day," Clyde groans, looking at the clock which reads 7:58 pm.
"But it was fun," I say, silently agreeing with him.
"You bet," he winks.
We sit down and eat our dinner, and then go into the living room to pick out a movie.
"I'm voting for London has Fallen," Clyde says, putting his arm around me and staring at the TV with a look that says he wasn't going to change his mind.
"Fine," I hmph, pressing play and relaxing into a movie night with the best baby daddy a girl could ask for.
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CHAPTER 25 DONE!
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