I’m lying down on my back, one hand stroking my eldest’s hair, the other rocking the youngest’s moses basket. The breasts are sore from feeding every two hours all day and night long.
My nose is running because I was cold during the night, as Laura kicked the blanket away from her and from me.
I’m hungry but I don’t want to wake up the kids, so I stay put. My back hurts. My hands hurt. My stomach hurts. I try to hold a sneeze as long as I can but it comes… Not one, but seven. I’m one of the best when it come to sneeze quietly, but seven is quite hard to mask. Yet, only husband moves.
It’s 6:40 already, soon everybody will be up. I’m exhausted from being awake since midnight. I stretch to look at Bea moving in her sleep, then I look at Laura with her arms wide open taking half of the bed, then I look at Mr. C who will have to go to work soon.
And I think to myself… They are beautiful but I wish I was eating pineapples in a nice beach in Thailand, just my thoughts and I, just today.