A/N: So this is pretty awkward because for those of you reading Atmosphere, I didn't update this past Saturday. But rest assured that the next chapter has finally been sent for editing so I will post it as soon as I get it back. This being said, this came to me at like 2 am and because I have no will power or sense, I decided to write it and post it immediately. Which means WARNING: Despite proof-reading this nearly 5 times, I'm sure there are mistakes in there. This chapter isn't Beta'd and it's been a while since I've written for this story. But I was reminiscing and you guys made it so much fun that I wanted to throw a little sum'n sum'n in there so I hope this isn't atrocious. That was my warning.

Enter at your own risk.

Extended Lesson #1: Houdini has nothing on children

I panted heavily as I power-waddled, one hand braced under my stomach while the other clutched the phone at my ear. I felt like Ali-fucking-Baba as I waded through the germ-infested cesspool that we liked to call sandboxes.

Note: You think public bathrooms are gross? Have you realized half the exposed poop on playgrounds is not from animals?

"Pick up the phone, you nitwit," I growled into the receiver. "If the Saints scored a touchdown you'd snatch up your phone, but the second I call you're more MIA than Ross's son in the final seasons of Friends-,"

"Ely?" Eric answered.

"Eric, thank God," I sighed in relief, before checking "Is Mom near you?"

"Yah, she's right here, do you want me to put you on speakerphone?" Eric offered.

"No!" I yelled, before whispering, "Ilostthetwins."

"What? Are you trying out that rhythmic chanting Esm likes to do because I'm not catching on," Eric replied confusedly.

"First of all, that's called rapping," I gritted through clenched teeth, and then tried again, "IsaidIlostthetwins."

"I seriously can't understand you right now," Eric sighed with frustration, "Should I put Gared on? You both speak 'younger sibling'-,"

"Eric, I motherfucking lost Pippa and Rachel!" I screamed into the phone.

A woman sitting nearby shot me a scathing look as she placed two hands over her child's ears. I missed Eric's response as I lowered my cell phone and directed my words toward her,

"Your tan is more orange than Trump, you've smoked at least five cigarettes since sitting in this park, and you didn't even recycle your soda can, but you're worried about my influence on your playing-in-dog-shit kid?" I spouted.

Note: At this point, twins, you were having an absolute riot in my womb. I don't know what it is that runs in the Swan bloodline, but our fetuses are notorious for enjoying some good drama.

"Emily?" Eric called out once more.

I placed my ear back to the speaker, "Eric, what do I do? I've called for them everywhere and I can't find them. You can't tell Mom or she'll kill me."

Tip: Don't upset your grandmother. She likes to think that her madness is confined to the months of her pregnancies, but in truth, she's a real psycho. I can fondly recall a time when Dad made the mistake of trying to wean her off of cinnamon buns, and she cut the crotch out of all of his boxers. Her defense? She said was trying to wean him off of being a little bitch.

See what I mean? She's certifiable.

"Alright, the gang and I are on our way," Eric announced

"All of you? You can't all leave, Mom will get suspicious," I warned.

"Nah, we'll leave your boyfriend with her and they can catch up on their knitting," Eric assured.

"You're the best, elder one," I cried in relief, just as he hung up.

The next five minutes were spent deep breathing and trekking up and down the park compound. At thirty weeks pregnant, this was definitely the most exercise I had accomplished in weeks. I would never admit it to her, but I was seriously in awe of how your grandmother managed to carry five children at once.

Note: No, I did not misspeak. The weight my mother put on as a result of eating all those damn cinnamon buns was seriously equivalent to a fifth child.

But here I was, twenty-two years old with twins and an aching vagina. Pregnancy was not all that 16 and Pregnant hadcracked it up to be. I hadn't been able to fit behind the wheel of a car for weeks, and I was pretty sure the next Star Wars movie could use the hair on my ankles to form the Chewbacca costume. A lot had changed in the seven and a half months since Sam's sperm canoodled with my eggs, and it'd had been a lot scarier than I'd anticipated.

If this was what pregnancy was like, what the hell is motherhood going to be? How will I have time to shave my legs with two babies using me as their personal dairy farm? Is life going to turn into a series of stolen moments of free time where I'm forced to read summaries of new episodes of my favorite show? More importantly, what if I'm completely shit at being a mother? I couldn't even keep track of my two seven-year-old sisters let alone look after my own spawn.

By the time Eric, Roy, and Gared arrived, I was sitting on the park bench with tears streaming down my face. I could blame the onslaught of emotions on the rollercoaster ride that was pregnancy hormones, but the truth was that this was a result of weeks' worth of fears. As I sat helplessly, unaware of where my two sisters were, I realized that I was not cut out for this mom thing.

"Ely?" Gared ran over and stooped in front of me, brushing back the light blonde tufts of my hair that had escaped from my bun, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

I threw my arms around Gared, and buried my snotty nose into the crook of his neck, releasing unintelligible words.

"Is she hugging him?" Roy whispered to Eric rather loudly.

"Something must really be wrong," Eric replied.

"Your little sisters are missing, you assholes," I lifted my head to remind them, "It's been nearly thirty minutes now and I can't find them."

"I'm sure they're around here somewhere, okay?" Gared assured, "You know how the twins are. You two get started looking while I talk to Ely for a bit."

"We're on it!" Roy declared before dragging Eric behind him.

I returned my head to Gared's shoulder and let a few more tears escape. I was never one to be overly affectionate with my brothers, but every now and then we had our moments. I was there for Eric when he had his first heartbreak. He was there for Roy when he got arrested for underage drinking. And Gared and I, sharing our younger sibling bond, have talked each other out of shit situations a few times before. Now, he rubbed my back to calm me down.

"Want to tell me what this is all really about?" he finally asked.

"Losing our kid sisters isn't enough?" I quirked a brow in question.

"If Pippa and Rach made it through living in our household, they'll be okay," Gared reasoned.

Note: He had a point. Our family was pretty fucking weird.

"I just," I sighed, "I'm not ready, Gar. I'm not ready to be a Mom."

"Well, sucks for you because they're coming in a few weeks," he answered.

My mouth popped open, "That's your advice for me?"

"It's the truth!" he raised his hands in defense, "Ready or not you're going to bring two new Yodas into the world. But you know what? I think you're not giving yourself enough credit."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused by his line of thinking.

"You're Emily Cullen. You're the one who beat the sixth graders up when we were in fourth grade because they made stupid comments about our gay uncles. You're the only one who actually gives Mom a run for her money. You're the runt of the litter who somehow still managed to keep all of us in line and be a role model for Pip and Rach," he finished.

"Do you really think that?" I sniffled.

"I do," he nodded "And so does everyone else. So you should start too."

I was about to give him a 'thank you' noogie when Roy and Eric returned. The worried looks on their faces didn't bode well, and the niggling worry from earlier came back with a vengeance.

"We couldn't find them," Eric stated, tugging at his hair in stress.

"Oh God," I groaned.

"Mom is actually going to murder us," Roy began to panic, "And then she'll kill Dad just because she can. Do you hear that guys? We've given Dad a death sentence!"

"Everyone, calm down," Gared ordered, "Emily, where was the last place you saw them? What were they doing?"

I thought back to earlier in the day when I'd been lounging on the bench before I caught Trump-Mother's son poking at dog poop. His mother had been too preoccupied trying to get a light on her cigarette, so I had shuffled over to get him to stop. While arguing with the kid –I never thought my day would include more than three minutes of convincing a four year old that the ground did not sprout piles of chocolate –Pip and Rach had come over to nag me incessantly about something. I'd agreed rather dismissively and just as they'd run off, the kid's mother called him over. I'd then returned to my seat with the nagging feeling that I was supposed to be doing something, but brushed it off as pregnancy brain (which was totally a thing). Then after a few minutes I'd realized that I couldn't find them.

"Did you end up remembering what you were supposed to be doing?" Roy asked.

"Four years of college and that's the most pertinent question you thought to ask now?" Eric nudged Roy with his elbow.

"I don't know, I'm pretty curious-," Roy began at the same time that I answered,

"No, it probably wasn't even anything important-,"

"Wait," Gared stopped us once again, "Emily … were you supposed to be counting?"

"What?" Eric, Roy and I asked in unison.

"You said the twins asked you to do something," Gared explained, anger slowly settling into his features, "Was it to play hide-and-go-seek?"


"You mean all this time we could have just yelled 'olly, olly oxen free'," Eric nearly shouted with exasperation.

"Well, erm, you see, not exactly," I answered sheepishly, "We play the Game of Thrones edition."

"Game of –that doesn't sound children appropriate!" Gared shrieked.

"How do you even play that?" Roy wondered.

Ah, trust Roy to get down to the hard-hitting questions. He was definitely at the bottom of the baby pile in the womb.

"It's simple really. Whoever loses gets called Geoffrey for a week, which no one wants, and whoever wins is King of the North for the week," I explained, "And I didn't let them watch it, they stole Uncle Emmett's computer and streamed an episode before he realized. It wasn't one of the racy episodes, thankfully, but Emmett and the twins were grounded for two weeks."

Note: That's right. You're never too old to be grounded by your grandmother.

"What do you say to get them to come out?" Eric questioned.

Feeling properly chastised, I got up with Gared's assistance and hobbled close to the jungle gym. Then, with both hands cupped around my mouth, I shouted,

"You know nothing -,"

Suddenly, from the underside of the platform, two sets of legs plopped to the floor followed by two gangly torsos. Then the bright faced and wild haired girls known as Philippa Jane and Rachel ran towards us screaming,

"Jon Snow! Jon Snow!"

And though my brothers wanted to murder me, the blatant glee of Pippa and Rachel seeing their siblings was enough to melt their anger. With fast paced chatter the twins recounted gleefully how they had stayed silent beneath the platform without even giggling to give away their positions. They were so proud of themselves that I didn't have it in me to be upset with them. After all, they were merely following the rules of the game, and in the Swan bloodline we hated to be losers.

"Ely, why is your face red?" Pippa asked.

"Yah, were you crying?" Rachel followed up. If one of the two spoke, the other almost always followed with something to say.

"Only a little," I admitted, "You two played so well that you scared me. I'd thought I'd lost you."

"We're sorry, Ely," Rachel apologized, and immediately wrapped her arms around my waist.

"We didn't mean to make you cry," Pippa joined in too.

All the stress of the day and the doubts of my capabilities evaporated as their stringy arms wound around me and my large stomach. As I looked down into their identical faces, I pictured my own set of twins hugging me just as tightly. I pictured them with Sam's dark hair and dark skin, along with my bright eyes and wicked smile. They'd probably get Roy's wonky ears, perhaps Eric's pointed nose, and then just because Mom had to be involved in everything, they'd get something from her too. My heart became filled in that moment, thinking about the family I had and the family that I was making. I knew that not all of my fears would stay dissolved, but I also knew that I would overcome them. Ready or not, I was about to bring two precious beings into the world. I was about to give birth to two beauties concocted out of love. And even if it had turned me into just as much of a mad pregnant woman as your grandmother, the fact that I could cradle the brilliance of life in my womb made me determined to not only be a good mother;

I was going to be a fucking great mother.

A/N: I don't know if it is my 5am brain thinking this or if Emily is a lot fouler than before ahah! Hopefully this was a nice addition that was true to the story. I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks for the ride, y'all.