Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Chapter 8 on my nocturnal tribulations here in Bordeaux: the pacifier didn't work at all during the night, my baby just wouldn't take it - he probably understood what trick I was trying to play on him :-). But nonetheless he did sleep a little bit better. Unfortunately for me, there was a mosquito that buzzed on my ear all night and kept me awake from 4 to 5 and woke me up several times in the early morning. What a trip! Call it Bordeaux, capital of my undesired sleepless nights.
Needless to say I was tired today again.
Since it was supposed to rain, my father proposed to go to Ikea. Of course, the girls said YES! so there we went. We had lunch and I truly thought I was going to faint while waiting for them to bring the plates: the restaurant was so crowded it looked like the worst Saturday afternoon, it was hot and I was wearing jeans, plus being tired and feeling sick from the car to get there. In the end, I managed to stay alive and we had lunch then started walking in the store in search of - nothing special. But it was ok, and the girls had fun. I did sit on a couch and that was a mistake because my legs felt clued to it and it took me awhile to be able to stand up again - TIRED.
And then as we were waiting at the counter to pay for the stuff we had bought (you alway buy something at Ikea, don't you?), I noticed three little boys behind us. They were very blond, very active and their parents were obviously having a hard time with them. No wonder: they were triplets. Three two-year-old little boys running everywhere and crying for the baloon and laying on the floor and then kissing each other, being quiet for a moment, then crying again. I looked at the mother. Then the father. They were about my age. They looked soooo tired, they were worn out. The mother was on the edge of breaking down, literally, right in front of us, there at Ikea. The father was doing a great job trying to keep his calm but still - you could tell. For a minute, I tried to imagine what their life could be, with triplets that age. Then life with triplets the age of my baby. Two week-old triplets. Ten year-old triplets. Sixteen year-old triplets. How did they do that? I wanted to tell them something nice, but instead I said something stupid like "It's holidays for your kids but not for you guys... hang on, they'll soon go to school" and immediately regreted it, knowing that they probably heard the same stupid things from everybody the entire day long.
We went out of Ikea and I looked at my baby, quiet in his stroller. I had learned my lesson. One baby is tiring, but I could have three, or even two. So take it, I said to myself, and don't complain because life is easy for me compared to others.