Nick and I walk down East 64^th Street with Lennon between us, holding our hands. You’d think all three of us would be nervous, but nope. Not Lennon. He’s a fearless little guy, the result of being raised by five famously crazy men.

Lennon Apollo Lambert turned four over the summer in London and is attending his very first day of preschool at the posh Bristol Academy on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. It’s a five-block walk from our penthouse condo, and Nick won the rock-paper-scissors tournament to see who got to accompany us today. All of Lennon’s fathers wanted to come along, but we knew that would attract unwanted attention, so we decided each of them will get a day of the week to walk him to and from school with me.

The very idea that a freaking preschool costs over thirty grand a year in tuition is mind-boggling, and if Ian hadn’t secretly offered to double that, we’d still be on the long waiting list. This despite our family decision that autumns are spent in New York and springs in Paris, so Lennon will only be attending Bristol half a year.

Of course, money is never a problem for us, but it still knocks me for a loop sometimes how much of it we have. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined being this wealthy.

Even more astounding is that we’ve somehow managed to make this whole bizarre situation work. All of us are in our early thirties now, except for Brandon, who turns twenty-six in November. Sure, we’ve had our little spats, but we always eventually talk things through and any ill feelings evaporate quickly.

It was utter turmoil for a while when the press got wind of our arrangement. I hadn’t needed to put out a single major fire since I became Harem’s official Public Relations Director until then, but my years of experience in my old career handling those kinds of situations helped us navigate the scandal.

It’s still alarming to see my own face in the tabloids from time to time, but I’ll just have to get used to that. Regardless of what they say, I never had sex with Prince Harry, although Jason and I did have tea with him once.

Despite all that nonsense, the six of us are still happily married.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that part. We searched all over the globe for a country that would allow all five of them to marry me, then we finally gave up and just had our own secret ceremony, just after Lennon’s first birthday.

The whole event was surreal, from the two dozen or so celebrities who came, to my poor stunned parents, who had barely gotten used to the idea that their year-old grandson had five rock-star fathers. The icing on the cake, of course, was Mick Jagger agreeing to officiate the ceremony.

And that honeymoon... damn. Returning to Fiji was a brilliant idea. Three years later, I still smile every time I think about it.

The three of us arrive at The Bristol Academy, and I give Lennon a big hug and remind him to behave and mind his manners. I stand up before he can see the tears in my eyes, then Nick bends over and looks him in the face.

“Rock on, my little dude,” he says as they exchange a fist bump.

As Lennon is being led away, he turns around and grins, raising his fist in a little “devil horns” symbol.

Nick laughs out loud.

“Just like his dads,” I say.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

No, it’s a very good thing. I love all my men so much that I can’t imagine ever living without any one of them.

They’ve done a spectacular job of helping me raise Lennon, better than I could have even imagined.

Nick and I take the long way through Central Park on the way home. The leaves are still a couple of months away from changing colors, but I love the park in any season. We stop for a hot dog, then head back home.

He puts his key in the slot in the elevator that allows us to push the “P” button for penthouse. We have the top two floors to ourselves. When the doors open, we step directly into the foyer and I hear voices from the nearby living room.

The rest of the men are all huddled together in the middle of the room. When they hear us, Jason turns excitedly in our direction.

Without even asking how things went at the preschool, he says, “Kelsey! Nick! Get over here!”

We approach and the circle parts. I see Zilla, shirtless, with the baby cradled in both arms, holding her to his chest. Seeing such a giant man with such a tiny child is beyond adorable and always warms my heart.

“What’s going on?”

“Watch,” Jason says, then he opens his mouth and starts to sing softly.

A smile quickly forms on Diva’s adorable nine-month-old face. Her eyes are big as she watches him intently.

Then my own little miracle opens her mouth and out comes a sound. She’s unmistakably mimicking Jason.

“Oh my God,” Nick says.

I can’t even manage that much.

My eyes tear up instantly as I watch.

Like her five amazing dads, Diva Grace Lambert might just have a future in the music business.