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Penelope loved her baby. She loved everything about her chunky, long limbed, giant ginger baba. Did she have some notes for him as she struggled to push said giant ginger baba out of her body, of course she did, but she loved him all the same.
Elliot was everything you think a baby should be, chubby cheeks and soft rounded belly and those adorable little fat rolls on his arms and legs. He smelt like milk and *baby* in all the best ways and he was the smiliest baby she'd ever know. In that secret, private way that parents had about boasting up your own children Colin and Penelope would often whisper happily about how he was the least fussy of all his cousins, and while he had a clear preference for Mama and Papa's arms (mostly Mama's) he was also content to be cuddled by aunts, uncles and grandma's alike. Her sweet baby boy, adored and adoringing of all who met him. Even Eloise, who would often steal the baby away for serious conversations about dragons, clever red headed princesses and their unfortunate habit of falling in love with big stupid giants. Eloise famously was disinterested in all babies, biologically related to her or not, so Penelope took great pride in the fact that her best friend doted on her precious baby boy.
However, her sweet ginger baba was nearing one year old, and Penelope was discovering the down side of his adorable chubbiness.
Her boy was heavy.
She'd always took secret delight in being the place that Elliot found his refuge, always the most content in his Mama's warm embrace, securely held in her arms while he nestled into her breast. While she had mended her relationship with her mother as much as it ever would be, and as a grown up married woman of her own, Penelope could see the desperate position that Portia had found herself in and the methods she had done to blindly try and protect her children and prepare them for a world of disappointment. As understanding as she was however, Penelope never wanted to be in a position where Elliot ever had to doubt their relationship. He, and whatever children that might follow would always know that they were loved, and wanted and treasured. And that involved scooping him up and spinning him into her arms whenever her little Lord reached those chubby hands toward her in a clear demand of "up".
Elliot had moved on to solid foods at 6 months old, mashed potato being his dinner of choice, but he still enjoyed a morning and night time feeding from Mama, which was where they found themselves now, in the twilight hours. Her big, strong boy was sleepily drinking his fill as Penelope stroked the soft red curls from his forehead and tried to ignore the ever growing tingling in her other arm as her son's heavy weight made itself known.
She was already dreading the moment when she would have to stand with him in her arms, knowing the bulk of his body would cause her to bend back just to keep him in her arms and the tightening pain that would accompany the lift.
Objectively, she knew that her own smallness played a part in the current struggle. When Elliot lay against her, his long limbs, the only thing he seemed to have inherited from his father, he covered the entire length and more of her short torso. Her petite arms often struggled to contain the wriggly boy, especially now he was getting more eager to find his own feet, something which surely couldn't be far off now. Her petite frame was struggling to keep up with her growing boy and Penelope hated to admit it.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Colin appeared in the doorway with a soft smile and an even softer kiss.
"I thought you might need a hand getting him into his cradle." He whispered the words into her temple, and Penelope knew he would feel the small sigh she couldn't contain.
"He's getting bigger every day Colin and that's all your fault. He's getting too long and too heavy for me to lift with ease and I hate it."
Colin had the good sense not to laugh too long at her pouty expression and he instead rewarded her with another kiss.
"I know my darling. He is a growing boy, and you, my love stopped growing apparently somewhere around the age of 9!" He teased and Penelope thought perhaps it was a good job that her son's large body prevented her from swiping at Colin's handsome face.
"I'll have you know Mr. Bridgerton that I continued to grow well into my teenage years. It was just...slower than most." Her grudging admittance gained another laugh from Colin and she found herself inamoured with him all over.
"And I am so grateful for it, as I rather adore my pocket-sized wife! But slow growth does not seem to be something that our darling boy will struggle with."
They looked down at Elliot as he slipped into sleep at the same time he slipped from her breast and the pair admired their greatest masterpiece.
"I want him to always feel safe in my arms Colin, I never want for him to reach for a hug and for me to not be able to hold him."
Another gentle kiss was placed to her temple as Colin helped arrange her nightgown, covering her back up.
"He will Pen, you are a loving mother and Elliot will feel the strength and power of your love even when he inevitably towers over you. Our boy is growing strong and healthy, and he has you to thank for that. You grew him safely in your belly, your body his first home and the nurishment from your own body was all that sustained him those first few months of his life. He is thriving because of you and the care you give him and you will always be his safe place."
"Even when I can't properly pick him up anymore?" Her question was quiet and thick with unshed tears.
"Always "
With another gentle kiss to her lips, and one to Elliots forehead, Colin picked up their slumbering son and gently placed him in the waiting cradle. Penelope had to admit it was much easier to stand without the happy, heavy lump of baby in her arms, but she eagerly approached the cradle to tuck the blankets lightly around her baby and brush the curls from his forehead.
"He is perfect is he not? Despite his insistence on becoming a giant."
"As perfect as his mother."