Mia’s Chapter 5

I finally caved and reset all my MCCC settings back to default. Just wiped the whole thing clean. The population alarms and midnight checks had gotten so ridiculous they were taking almost thirty minutes to run — thirty minutes of frozen time where my Sims just stood there like they were waiting for the universe to buffer. So I gave up on trying to out‑smart the system and just put everything back to factory settings. No tweaks, no adjustments, no clever fixes. We’ll see if that actually helps or if I just performed a very dramatic ritual for nothing.

The day started at 2 a.m., because of course it did. Trace was hungry, Ellie was hungry, and Oliver and I were basically two half‑conscious baristas serving bottles instead of lattes. Colton, naturally, slept through the entire feeding like the tiny king he believes himself to be.

By breakfast, Oliver was feeding Colton a sandwich while I tried to remember what day it was. Then Naked Colton decided to head straight into the backyard like he was greeting the dawn in his natural habitat. We hauled him back inside and redirected him to the potty, where he proudly hit level 3 in all his skills. Happy Toddler status unlocked. Achievement earned. Gold star for the tiny nudist.

Meanwhile, Oliver fed Ellie, then Trace, and Colton watched the whole thing with the angriest little face I’ve ever seen. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t yelling. He was just staring at Oliver and Ellie like he was plotting a coup.

Once the infants finally went down, Oliver slipped off to get some sleep — the man earned it — and I was already at work pretending to be a functional adult. Colton spent the morning talking to Ellie and Trace, and Oliver said they were quiet for a long time. Which, because he slept through most of it, did not strike him as something to worry about.

When I got home, Colton was being suspiciously sweet to the infants — which is always a red flag. That’s his ‘I was mad earlier but now I’m pretending I wasn’t’ behavior. I didn’t see whatever look he gave them earlier, but I can imagine it. And it probably wasn’t cute. I’m not saying he’s planning something, but I’m also not not saying that.

When I finally got home, I walked through the door with my next promotion — Ufologist. Which sounds cool until you realize it means I now have to seriously consider the possibility that aliens are real. And then I remembered: I literally live with one. I have children with one. I have been abducted four times and somehow still managed to forget that my fiancé is a full‑blown extraterrestrial. So yes, I’m freaking out. I don’t know if this promotion means I’m supposed to study aliens, report aliens, or file paperwork about aliens, but either way, this feels uncomfortably close to bringing my work home with me.

Both infants woke up at the same time, naturally, because of course they did. Oliver grabbed Ellie and got her fed, but when I went to feed Trace… nope. Couldn’t. Because Trace had apparently decided right then to age up into a toddler. And because we are who we are, we absolutely forgot his birthday.

So now he’s Angelic, sad, and still starving. And instead of waiting for one of us to help him, he toddled into the kitchen, grabbed whatever food he could reach, and sat on the floor to eat it. Just plopped down like, “Fine. I’ll raise myself.” I’ve never felt so called out by a toddler.

While he ate his floor meal, I converted his crib into a toddler bed, because of course we weren’t prepared. Why would we be prepared? Preparation is for households with fewer than three children under three.

Before we could even think about getting the infants settled and back in bed, Colton woke up. Loudly. And he also wanted food. Naturally. Ellie, now fully energized from her bottle, wandered off to find the dollhouse — which is her version of clocking in for the day — and Trace stood in the kitchen watching Oliver.

Five hours later — five — everyone was finally fed, changed, tucked in, and asleep. Just in time for my alarm to go off for work. Perfect timing, really. Nothing like starting your shift after a full night of parenting cardio.

Colton woke up in a great mood, which is always suspicious. The trick, I’ve learned, is that he’s only happy if no one else is awake yet. As long as he has both parents’ undivided attention, he is sunshine and rainbows. The second another child breathes too loudly, he becomes a Victorian ghost fueled by jealousy. But for now? Happy. We take the wins where we can.

These days I’m usually heading to work alone, because Oliver has his hands full with the kids. There’s this delusional little thought floating around that once they’re all toddlers it’ll be easier. And then another, even more delusional thought that once they’re children it’ll be actually easier. I’m clinging to that one like a life raft.

I hit level 6 at work, which should’ve unlocked the wormhole generator. Should’ve. Turns out it’s only available after I get the brainstorm idea, which I did not have. So I marched into work ready to build a portal to the unknown, and instead I stared at a blank invention pad like an idiot.

The good news? The kids were in much better shape when I got home. Ellie needed a diaper change, and then it was bedtime for all three. That was it. A miracle. A brief, shining moment of competence.

Naturally, the aliens took that personally. Abduction number five. At this point I’m expecting a punch card — “Get abducted five times, your sixth is free.”

Ellie’s birthday was today, so we baked a cake and planned to help her blow out her candles before I left for work. That was the intention. And then the boys woke up. So instead of cake, we got potty training. Almost. Trace made it to the potty chair and then filled his diaper before I could get him on it. A for effort, F for timing.

Oliver was feeding and changing Ellie when Colton wandered back in and immediately dissolved into sadness because someone else was getting attention. The jealousy is strong with this one. I had just enough time before work to give him a quick bath, which restored his happiness for the moment.

Meanwhile, Oliver was trying to show Trace how to use the potty — even though he desperately wanted to go to bed — because apparently potty training is a sacred duty that cannot be postponed.

Oliver told me that at some point in the chaos, Colton took Ellie’s pacifier away from her and dropped it straight into the toilet. Just—plunk. No hesitation, no remorse. Ellie burst into tears, obviously, because she is a baby with feelings, and Colton just laughed.

Oliver rescued Ellie, got her a last bottle, and tucked her in for her final infant nap. Mama will be home soon, he told her. I’m sure she believed him more than I did.

Trace met me at the front door when I got home, so he got a bath before we could even think about Ellie’s birthday. But finally — finally — it was time for her to blow out her candles. She aged up into a clingy toddler, which honestly tracks.

While I converted her crib into a toddler bed, Oliver got her started on potty training. And for one brief, glorious moment… the boys were asleep.

Simmers!

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