BRAD     |     EMILLIE

Monday, October 31, 2011


This morning I awoke to a glorious stream of sunlight. The air was so clear that it sparkled and I swear the song birds were chorusing for me. The reason for my spectacular morning was that after 5 days of being struck down by the flu, I had woken up fever and pain free! With tender feet I struck out to survey the damage that my decommissioning had wrought.

First... there's my last blog entry, a bit bland, I admit. It was written from the desperation and need to have an entry for last week.

Then there's the house...
A sea of toys scattered on the floor
piles of dirty clothes in every corner
uncorked bottle of wine sitting on the counter (leftover from Brad's thoughtfully prepared soup)
a container of glue spilling out onto the play table
and evidence of spilt tea mixing into the general chaos
the floor, if I could have seen it through the mess, would probably speak of cleaner days.

Nikolai greets me wearing a shirt decorated with the telltale turmeric stains from the Indian dinner Brad had prepared two nights previous, plus some other additions from meals in between. He was excited to see that I was perky after my long time out. His mummy-worry-nightmare from the night before fleeing at the evidence of my arising.

To be fair, Brad had his hands more than full. On top of working, he cooked dinners, prepared breakfasts, lunches, did the shopping, dressed Nikolai in the morning, and got him ready for bed at night. Cleaning up just hadn't really been on his radar, and laundry certainly wouldn't have been anywhere close to the course of navigation. In addition to all that, Brad also did the school run (Irish vernacular for taking kids to and from school. I haven't seen evidence of school buses yet, which means that rush hour is just that much more congested).

I spent the afternoons laying on the couch making sure Nikolai didn't hurt himself, but otherwise inattentive at best, from the fog of my illness. The submarine mother watching her son cut up his toy butterfly into a billion tiny pieces. "Mama, look, it died!"  And the glue globing out onto the table was definitely my fault too, as I supervised arts and crafts with my cups of herbal tea spilling on the floor (twice) on the table (once).

As for Nikolai's nightmare? well, it involved someone climbing in through the window and stealing my cellphone. He was only reassured by Brad checking that it was safely stowed away. I'm not really sure how Nikolai came to worry so much about the cellphone. It was his primary concern too, when we were moving, that the cellphone would be left behind at our old house. It's not like I'm a crackberry addict or anything, though I do generally reach my limit of 200 texts a month, I seldom use the phone for anything else!

However, when questioned a little further, it becomes clear that Nikolai equates our cellphone with our friendships, because "if we don't have the cellphone, then our friends won't know where we are." seen through that set of lenses, perhaps the cellphone is more valuable than anything else we own, because it symbolizes our connection to our friends. And on that note, I think I'll go write down some phone numbers... you know... just in case... 

The photos are of a sweater that I knit, a hat that I crocheted, and a kid that won't simply smile for the camera.  

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