A Missed Opportunity

61

❃𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊❃

So, I have to admit, I didn't think this whole puppy thing through.

Gus is the cutest puppy I've ever seen, but his paws are humongous and he's already grown a bunch since when we first got him. And I told myself this would work since he lives with Noah full time but is still around enough that Cameron learns to take more and more responsibility for him.

But that only works if Noah and I just never move in together. The thought of us living together makes me a little anxious, but I can understand that it's a real possibility by the way our relationship is going—maybe even soon since we all have been bouncing between one house to the other lately.

I have to give Gus some credit—He's been potty trained and seems to be abiding by the rules nicely. Noah says he sometimes still rips his things up, but most dogs never grow out of that. I don't think.

I've had a good taste of what living with both of them full time would probably be like though. It's not bad, honestly. Noah cleans up after himself, Gus is relatively quiet, they both have their own ways of keeping Cameron busy if I'm busy. Gus especially if both of us are busy.

I guess it wouldn't be so bad to eventually have a dog in the house. I already love Gus, so by the time it's time for us all to be under one roof permanently, I'm sure things will be fine.

I don't have much of a choice anyway though, let's be honest. Noah and I haven't talked about it, but we practically do live together now. There are very few days out of the week that we're all at our respective homes. That's because half of my wardrobe is at his, and the other half is at mine.

And for him...Honestly, I'm pretty sure his entire wardrobe is at mine in a fucking basket because he packs a freakin' bag when we go back to his.

Even when we're all at our own homes that we always have been in, Cameron sometimes leaves to go be with Noah for half the week. Then when he comes back, he insists on convincing Noah to stay the night. That makes it so Noah and I can hide behind the excuse that we're doing this for Cameron.

While that is one of the reasons why we easily let him convince Noah to stay with us pretty much every night, I think we both also like being in the same house as much as Cameron does. Coming home to a house that isn't quiet and empty, debating on who's turn it is to make dinner, who cleans up afterwards, having enough people to play hide and seek with in the house, and at the very end of it—the very end when the lights are off and it's time to relax, I get to lay in someone's arms. Where it's warm. It puts me to sleep nearly immediately.

We're not always alone in our bed. Sometimes we're not even in our bed, we're on the living room floor in a makeshift tent with our son. I like those nights as much as the ones where it's just us. Because as nice as the ones where it's just us are, the ones where it's all of us has a very special place in my heart. Mostly because he lets us both tuck ourselves against him. He likes sleeping on his stomach or on his side, but when we do that, he has to sleep on his back.

He hates sleeping on his back. I know for a fact he does because he sleeps literally any other way all the time. He can sleep sat up on the couch, on his side, his stomach—Hell—he'd probably sleep standing up before he willingly slept on his back.

But he does it on those nights. Tolerates it all night, somehow. That's just for us. He does something excruciatingly exhausting because we like sleeping on top of him and stealing all his warmth.

So, yeah. Living with him wouldn't be so bad. I haven't been trying to look for something wrong with my picture, but I think that even if I do, I wouldn't find anything.

He's a good guy. He loves Cameron and treats him like he's always been right here for everything. He's willing to learn new things—even now that it's easy for us all to forget that he hasn't always been here.

I like how easy it is to forget just as much as I like how easy it is for him to remind us about it and ask for help.

Sometimes he likes to at least try to figure it out before he asks for help. Other times, his reminders come in other forms that he can't easily hide. Like all the things I remember feeling when I was new to this. Super new.

All of those natural responses that you feel for the first time are all amplified at first. With time, they dwindle down to normal levels. The kind that you'd expect from a normal parent. The overprotectiveness is the strongest one that comes, I think.

Noah likes to give Cameron a bit of space to learn. That doesn't mean he doesn't step in until he absolutely has to, but he likes to give Cameron a fair amount of time to figure it out himself. That's what we've seemed to silently agree on, at least.

But there are times where he can't seem to help himself. That overprotectiveness comes in, and it shows us just how new he is.

They're usually subtle. So subtle I sometimes don't catch it. Cameron almost never catches it. Once in a while, he will though. That's when Noah's feelings are especially extreme, and the bored face Cameron gives in response never fails to make me laugh. It's the same bored and annoyed face he'll give me.

The subtle ones are easy to spot if you look at him though. Maybe a pissed off look he'll send people who dare to accidentally step too far in our son's way as we walk down the street. Or the way he jumps in a little too quick when Cameron looks like he might do something that could earn him a nice scrape on his knee. I can't blame him for that one because I still do it too even though I'm not as new.

I love it, and I can't stop myself from picturing him with two in his hands. One beautiful boy that he won't stop caring for the same way he always has no matter what, and another one. Another boy, a girl, it won't matter because he'd love them both the same.

"Dude!"

"Die!" Cameron beams as he throws the stuffed dragon his dad had in his hand clean across the room.

"You know what? You're insane." Noah grumbles as he gets off the ground to retrieve his character. Cameron giggles madly in response. I smile to myself when I catch Noah's playfully narrowed eyed gaze as he snatches his dragon up off the floor before Gus can grab it and rip it to shreds. He's such a puppy.

Noah ends up laughing with Cameron, probably unable to help it with our son's maniacal laughter. He looks over at me to make sure I'm seeing this. I smile back at him, dropping my hook and yarn on my lap absently to watch them try and get back to their game where Noah will inevitably lose.

He always loses. Half because Cameron makes the rules up as he goes, but also because he's always going to let himself lose. I know he will. Doesn't matter what game they're playing or how old Cameron gets, Cameron will always win their game.