We’re slowly but surely emerging from the grasps of the illness that has invaded our home for the past week and a half. It lasted a little longer because I only began to get ill myself after Mikey and his daddy were starting to feel better, starting with a sniffle just before the weekend and exploding into a full blown cold that left me out of action for a few days.
Now that we’re all beginning to feel better, I’m left with piles of laundry that need to be done and an apartment in desperate need of cleaning and tidying. Blankets and pillows strewn about the living room, dishes piled up in the sink. It’s a daunting task.
There’s a been a reluctance to get back to our routines. Mikey has decided, for reasons he wont yet divulge, that he no longer wants to go to Preschool. He tells me he would rather sit at home and watch TV like we did when we were sick. So each afternoon has become a battle of wills as I attempt to get him to Preschool on time. Of course, when he is there he has a great time, he comes home telling me of all the fun things he did and the friends that he played with. But when the next day comes around he digs his heels in and resists leaving the apartment all over again.
I managed to get a small break on Tuesday for an hour or so. I walked to one of our nearby parks and took some photos, got coffee and a scone on my way back to the apartment. I stood and watched the ongoing demolition at the old hospital nearby for some time before heading back, the machines working at taking down walls and smashing through floors, pieces of brick and metal falling through old windows and down to the ground. It was somewhat cathartic to just stand and watch for a moment.