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Polyamory for the Practical

One Poly Morning

It's early morning and I am waking up next to my love.  It's about dawn, so the window outside is mostly gray.  His hand idly strokes my hair and he grins lecherously when we hear a sound from the bedroom.

"Mama!" comes a call with an imperiousness that only a four year old can bring to a simple disyllable.

The Beast groans.  "Think dear hoosband will go to him?"

A moan from the bedroom says that rescue is unlikely.  I rise from the mattress on the floor grumbling.  My son, Baby Thor, has been sick and is begging for Gatorade.  I kiss him on the forehead to check his temperature while trying to decide how to get through the kitchen where my love's daughter is sleeping without waking yet another child.

"Hang on, little love," I tell Baby Thor.  "Mama'll get your Gatorade."

"Okay," he agrees and snuggles deep into his Mickey Mouse comforter.

I sneak into the kitchen and slide past the port-a-crib while grinning down at the little red head poking out from a crocheted blanket.  I snatch a sports bottle of the wretched tasting drink out of the fridge and sneak out again, pleased I have avoided waking the little bird.

I hand Baby Thor his drink.  He smiles and says, "Thank you." I pad back to the living room and slide under the sleeping bag we have been using as a makeshift comforter.  It is December and too cold in the house. Fortunately, my love is not exaggerating when he refers to himself as a furnace.  It's nice in the winter, though in the heat and humidity of a Virginia summer, I wonder how I will feel about it. *

"Kitten," he whispers and kisses me.

Since we're on a futon on the living room and a child is awake, this isn't going any further than cuddling.  We hear the patter-patter-patter of pajamaed feet coming down the hall.  We look up and there's Baby Thor, "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" in hand.  He climbs right between us and plops the book in the The Beast's lap, snuggling close to him.  While Baby Thor is engrossed in Grinches and Whoville, a call from the kitchen says The Bird is awake. I go get her, sit her on the counter and make a pot of coffee.

At the sound of the coffee grinder, the bedroom door opens.  (With cats, it's the can opener; with The Prince , it's the coffee grinder).  He kisses me good morning, then kisses The Bird.

"Frog!" she says.  She associates The Prince with a painting he did some years ago.  He often does frog imitations to amuse her.

While he is talking like a frog, the Goddess of Giggle comes into the kitchen, being true to her title.  She finds Our Prince's frog imitations most amusing. I kiss her good morning and she wanders into the living room to kiss The Beast.  By now, the coffee is brewed and I fix three cups, the Goddess of Giggle not being the coffee addic^H^H^H^H aficionado that the rest of us are. I hand one cup to The Prince with a kiss, then take the other into the living room where Baby Thor has insisted on watching Blue's Clues.  We pile on the sofa to watch and sip coffee.  The Goddess of Giggle comes in with The Prince carrying The Bird.  Baby Thor tries to order her out of the living room, but we explain that if he wants to be alone, he has to go to his room.  She snatches a book and says, "Mine!" Baby Thor takes the toy that she had been holding and says, "Mine!"

The The Beast takes a child under each arm and sits between them on the sofa.

That's kids and poly in a nutshell.

A portrait of the Goddess of Java rendered by the Goddess of Giggle

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* Matter of fact, it worked out okay. Air conditioning works wonders. However, as we get into our second Christmas, I find myself grateful for the human furnace once again.