mama nat one shots <3

Too much

(Includes the twins: Billy and Tommy. And mom = Nat, mama = Wanda)

Today was just like every other when you're a teenage girl with 8 year old brothers.

It feels like it's an actual competition of who can be more annoying, or stupid, every single day.

Mom just called us down because mama was done cooking dinner for us. As usual, I start to walk down the stairs, and immediately I'm shoved by Billy who's rushing past me. After groaning I continue down the stairs until Tommy now comes and kicks me as he speeds down, making me lose my balance and slip down the last few stairs.

Don't get me wrong I'm fuming. I'm so angry and so sick of them being so flipping annoying. But I get up and take a deep breath.

I'm not doing amazingly in general right now, and the last thing I need, is my stupid little brothers to tip me over the edge.

So I do my best to calm down then walk into the kitchen where the rest of my family are. My mom is greeting the boys and mama is dishing out het favourite food, paprikash.

I just walk in and sit down not having the energy to even say hello or interact, I don't want to have a meltdown. Whether that means crying or shouting, I'm not sure. But I know that I don't want either of those things to happen.

When I do sit down, my brothers opposite, as mama sits next to me and mom at the head of the table. Like always.

Seeing as she hasn't seen me yet today, mama whispers "hi my baby" as she kisses my temple, making me close my eyes at the affection, subconsciously leaning towards her touch.

Most people my age wouldn't want their mothers anywhere near them. But. I need them. It's no lie that the affection has lessened on their part since I've grown older. I think purely out of them thinking it's something I no longer want as a 'nearing adult.' It's usually a kiss or hug in the morning and sometimes the same at night.

Otherwise, they each have one of the twins, who cling to them a lot of the time since they're still only 8. And that's okay. I think. I've come to accept that. Except I can't help but long for them to ask me how I'm doing and just hold me. Because really I'm not okay. And I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending that i am. Before I break.

During dinner I'm just quiet. But to be fair, it's usually like this. The boys blabber on and on about their days, and their favourite things as I watch my moms look at them with that pure loving look, the one that all loving mothers give their children.

Once we're done, mom washes up, with a little help from me, since mama cooked, still somewhat silently. We sometimes stick on some music and hum along, like today, when mom decided to put Taylor swift on as she danced along to the words, while washing the dishes.

She playfully bumped her hip into mine as she passes me a plate to dry, motioning for me to dance with her.

I give her a little smile with a soft shake of the head since I'm really not feeling like dancing today.

I get a frown in response as she scrunches her eyebrows. She gives me this look. The look she already gives as if to say 'you okay?' when none of us feel like talking. I give her a nod, not wanting to worry her, I try a smile but I'm not quite sure I manage it.

Just as we finish up the dishes, she turns to me cupping my cheeks and directing my eyes to hers. I lean into her touch again as she asks "Are you sure you're okay, my love?" And just as I go to open my mouth to respond, the twins come running in, pulling my mom away from me, telling her that they have to come and play a game with them and Wanda because they need even teams.