They’re asleep. Finally. After great quantities of thrashing and moaning and he’s kicking mes in the humid, cramped room. The husband and I lay quietly on single mattresses, which covered all of the remaining floor space. We pretended to sleep, as Thai pop music blared from speakers in the open air restaurant on the other side of the river and motorbikes revved over the bridge.
Getting them to sleep while we were travelling was rarely easy. It was often the bane of my life. Rooms where all three had to share a double bed were by far the worst. In one awful hotel in Malaysia we bought a thin foam camping mat for the youngest to put on the hard tiled floor. He tossed and turned uncomfortably on it, and I felt guilty, but it was preferable to the alternative. At least there weren’t any cockroaches.
Looking at that photo now doesn’t give me a feeling of peace, an ah aren’t they so cute moment. It makes me feel slightly sick and anxious, as the memories of mozzie bites and grubby sheets and perpetual tiredness flood back. Travelling was wonderful in many ways, but we missed our own beds.
The prompt for this week’s Gallery is ‘at peace’.