I slept like the dead last night, it was a combination of the rose wine that I am not as used to anymore and the fine French air that surrounds us. It was silent in our area of the park, the loudest noise being the gentle rock of the sea.
We sampled dinner in the local town last night and I went to bed with a belly full of prawns and mussels. We missed the childrens disco, much to my youngest daughters dismay. However, we made it back in time for the welcome show which was so funny that my sides hurt from laughing.
The bar is positioned right by the pool and my eldest daughter, my water baby stared longingly
“Tomorrow” I promised, and I prayed to the weather to be kind.
The sun burst through the window this morning, waking me in its glow. My first memory as I awoke was that four years ago I was laying in a hospital ward with a sleeping newborn wrapped in my arms.
My daughter had turned four in the night and was still sleeping, dreaming of her birthday.
I had five minutes of sitting out on our decking enjoying the solitude and the sun before children started to wake.
The twins and I crept into BB’s room, arms full of presents that we secretly smuggled from the UK. She sensed our presence instantly and woke smiling as we all chorused happy birthday.
“I’m four,” she cried, and my heart lurched a little as I immediately missed the way she has always pronounced that she is “thwree”.
The floor of our holiday home was soon covered in paper and BB was quickly clothes in a Frozen dress, with Frozen heels, and an Elsa tiara. In her arms she cradled an Elsa doll.
“I love you mama.”