Amanda sat on the bed of her step-father’s villa in Rio. The view was wonderful from the window. Outside, she could see the waves gently caressing the sand. Somewhere in the distance, colourful kites hovered in the breeze. Elia babbled something, her little voice muffled as she cuddled up in Amanda’s arms, her hand possessively resting on her mother’s bust. Amanda chuckled and looked down at her baby girl. “Hey, no talking with your mouth full,” she said, a little amused.
Elia smiled up at her and continued nursing. Amanda stroked her daughter’s hair. She would be one pretty soon, yet she still rarely slept through the night and trying to wean her was a nightmare that Amanda simply couldn’t handle. It was so unlike her older children who had been strictly bottle-fed by their half-year mark and sleeping through the night 90% of the time. Amanda knew well enough that it was the way she clung to her youngest, the beginning of her fragile life had been so frightening that she’d refused to let her out of her sight for too long. As calm as Elia normally was, when her cries were ignored and her parents insisted on feeding her formula from a bottle, she turned into a tiny, wailing monster. There had to be an easier way. Niels stood in the doorway of the bedroom, admiring his wife and his younger daughter. “The kids are going to revolt if we don’t take them to the beach,” he teased. “What do you say?” Amanda laughed lightly. “No need for a revolt. We’d love to go to the beach, won’t we?” She looked at Elia so the infant knew she was being spoken to. Elia gurgled something that sounded agreeable, but as Amanda tried to lift her away from her body, Elia held on tighter, her eyebrows furrowed, displeased babbles coming out of her mouth. Amanda laughed and shook her head. “Get the kids ready. We’ll meet you at the beach when little princess here is ready.”
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Amanda at a GlanceNames: Amanda Pontremoli, Amanda van Loon Archives
August 2017
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