Before I was born,
My mother wanted to name her child Kaitlyn
As the firstborn,
That should have been me

Kaitlyn was my mother's favorite name
But as soon as I was born
She looked at me
I just took one look
And realized,
I could never be her Kaitlyn

Three years later  she tried again
Now her Kaitlyn was born
A beautiful,
Happy,
Innocent little girl.

My mother calls me
"The trouble child"
I cause trouble
I am not good enough
I am not her Kaitlyn

Now I am named Nicole
My mother wanted her child to be Kaitlyn
She loved the name Kaitlyn
Was I not good enough?
Why was I not her Kaitlyn?

Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth open up about breaking the rules and their plans for a (really big) family. Subscribe now for all the details plus exclusive photos, only in PEOPLE!

Get ready to toast to Mr. and Mrs. Booth!

Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth, who got engaged on The Bachelorette's season finale, are ready to walk down the aisle … just as soon as they take a little breather.

"We just want to enjoy the moment right now," Booth, 29, tells PEOPLE exclusively. "It's been so crazy. We just want to hang out as a normal couple, do a little traveling and then sit down and start making some plans."

Adds his bride-to-be: "We can't wait. We don't need to plan it right now, but we can't wait."

And the famously laid-back former dance instructor, 30, says she's already got a couple visions for her big day in mind.

"I always picture myself having a destination wedding because I'm so low-maintenance," Bristowe says. "I don't want to pick out flowers or colors, I just want to be like, 'yes, no, yes, no' ."

Jokes Booth: "I always pictured a wedding in Vegas at a little chapel!"

As far as expanding their family down the road? It might happen sooner rather than later, if you ask Bristowe.

"I have such baby fever," she admits. "I want four [kids]. Shawn wants five. And I hope to God I have all boys."

"One girl," Booth chimes in. "One girl that looks like her mom!"

For much more from Kaitlyn and Shawn, including exclusive photos, pick up the new issue of PEOPLE, on stands Friday

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

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"So you'll be in tonight? Wonderful, sweetie.
It's been far too long. Are you bringing Mattie?
Oh, I see. Are Todd's parent's good to her?
Alright, well, I love you and I'll see you at six.
Sorry seven...okay, sevenish."

The Prine place smelled of rich
lemon cleaner.
Not a cobweb could be found,
nor ***** dish, nor glass smudge.

Margaret Prine applied her blood red
lipstick--the final touch before school.

Mrs. Prine arrived thirty minutes before
anyone else, started the coffeepot in
the teacher's lounge, and wrapped up some
lesson plans.

The starting bell sounded,
she headed for her room.
Principal Hughes said,
"Good morning! Madam Margaret!"
as he always did.
Mrs. Prine, nodded cooly, grinned
lightly at the corners of her blood
red lips, and said nothing--as she always did.

At forty-five, she could turn more heads
than any head cheerleader,
and she was well aware
that beauty's power reigns
absolute.

Two young lovers draining saliva
stood outside her classroom door
dressed in matching yellow t-shirts.

"Excuse me, canaries.
Showboat your love out in nature.
Not outside my room," Mrs. Prine snipped,
calm like a seasoned surgeon.

"We're sorry--" Harvey's eyes met Mrs. Prine's.
Mrs. Prine felt a strange transfusion take hold.
The blackness started at her spine
and snaked to her skull.
Old jealousy, been awhile.

"Kaitlyn, Harvey, get to class."
Kaitlyn Mullens barely existed.
Pencil thin, thought little, and spoke less.
Kaitlyn just happened to be in Mrs. Prine's
literature class.
Mrs. Prine followed her into the room--
sizing up her shoulders, ***, and cheapshit heels
with a keen eye.

"Alright, everyone as you know, your analysis
on Catcher in the Rye motifs is due today.
No excuses."

During her lecture she couldn't keep her eyes
off Kaitlyn. The way she fidgeted incessantly;
shifted her gaze with each question asked.
Her idiot face somehow held a superior wisdom.
The dark jealousy coupled itself with
a wicked wandering mind.
A mind journeying into
the mad middle stage,
when a prime lioness
becomes declawed by calendars
and withering mirrors.

When the class left,
Mrs. Prine could not recall a single thing
she had lectured over.
She rubbed her head, sighed a low growl,
and began siphoning through the homework.
"Ah, there you are."
She grabbed a bleeding red ink pen,
then proceeded to massacre the essay.
"Plagiarism, plagiarism. Lazy, lazy."