Fall would always be my favourite time of year.  With every year that passed, I loved it more and more.  Everything was always so colourful and radiant.  The falling leaves in reds and oranges contrasted the cool blue of our house, and the brighter blue of the sky.

I sat down on the yellow swing, taking a break from chasing my boys around the yard.  I smiled as I watched the two of them run circles around a stump that, to them, was most likely a fortress or a magic cave with a Princess inside that needed saving.  They were growing up so fast, and their imaginations definitely kept up.

The two of them were like night and day.  I looked at Schuyler, his blue eyes like his fathers, but a darker shade.  His hair and lips were all mine- the hair dark brown and a pout that just wouldn’t quit.  I could already see that gaggle of girls that would follow him around.  James, on the other hand, had a shock of blond hair.  His eyes were mine, chocolate brown, and his complexion was just as fair as his brother’s.  He had his father’s nose.  And most of the time, they got along well.  I was very lucky.

I stared over the boys’ heads at the wooden fence surrounding the yard as I smiled and placed a hand on my stomach.  She was certainly feisty, and would make a damn good soccer player if her kicks were any sign.  She would be just as fair-skinned as her father and me, without a doubt.  He and I hoped for blonde hair and blue eyes for our baby girl.  Stephanie Kaige.  In just three more months, we would be welcoming another child into the world.  She would join her brothers, Schuyler of five years and James of three.  My thoughts were interrupted by the latter's voice calling out to me.

“Mommy, push me on the swing!”

I pushed myself off of the swing to receive an armful of James.  He hopped happily onto the swing I had previously occupied and squealed with delight as I pushed him through the air.

“Sky, come race me!  Come race me, Sky!”

My older boy wiped his hands on his pants before sitting on the swing beside his brother.  This was one of their favourite games.  I used one hand to push each boy as I looked through the window to my husband’ study.  He was sitting at his type writer, writing the third book in his best-selling series.  I could tell he was looking out the window at the boys and I, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay boys, go wash up!  Daddy made us dinner tonight.”

The boys jumped off the swing set and hurried towards the door.  Daddy’s home-made mac and cheese was the best bribe in the world.  I walked to the slider after them, pulling the door open to be greeted by my husband.  I pushed my long, brown hair out of my face as I smiled up at him.  I had seen his face so many times, but I never tired of it, even though he hadn’t changed much physically since the day I met him.  He had grown in to his tall frame and he wore his hair a little shorter.  But he was still the boy I fell in love with so many years ago.  I smiled at him as I remembered, and he smiled back at me.  I took his hand, squeezing it three times as I said,

“Please tell me you made dinner.”

He answered me with four squeezes in return as he kissed me softly on the lips.  I could tell he was smiling as he kissed me, and it was one of my favourite things.  It always had been.

“Does that mean you made dessert too?”

He chuckled at me as he walked over to the fridge to get the infamous mac and cheese.  I followed him and wrapped my arms around his waist as he opened the door.  I walked to the cabinets to get cups, giving him a squeeze and pressing a kiss onto the back of his neck before I went.  Every once and a while I would forget how hard it was to maneuver my way around our kitchen with such a big belly- but I’d always be reminded.

I felt long, strong arms around my shoulders, followed by a kiss on my head.  I tilted my head back to smile at my husband.  We’d been together for nearly fifteen years now.  But I would never tire of seeing that look on his face.

The sound of the boys stampeding down the hallway reached us before they did.  I gave my husband a quick kiss, still not able to resist that face.  I wasn’t quick enough.

“Ew!,”  Schuyler began, “Not so close to dinner time!”

I smiled as he became a bundle of giggles, his father tickling him mercilessly.  James ran over to me, standing on his tip toes so he could put his ear to my stomach.  He loved doing this, and it always made me smile.  I scooped him into my arms, which was quite the feat, being six months pregnant.  Three-year-old boys aren’t exactly light.  I looked over at my husband, who now had Schuyler in his arms.  A smile spread across my face, remembering all those years ago when this was just a dream; all the names and places and life plans floating around in the heads of two teenagers.  In a few years, we would have our own teenagers.  The idea was mind-boggling.

They say that things are never what they seem.  But in our little blue house with the wooden fence, things were just as they seemed.  We had done what so few had believed we could do.  As I looked over at my husband, I stroked James’s hair, thinking of everything that we’d been through.  I imagined how we must look right now, the two of us beaming at each other, each with a child in our arms- still happy, and still in love.  The moment was worthy of a Rockwell.