Civilization and its discontents

Just an hour and a half into my workday on Thursday, daycare called and said that Jack had diarrhea, and I would have to come pick him up.  Indeed, much of his class had fallen ill over a few days time, with bodily fluids spewing forth either one way or another. Poor little guy.  The stuff shot straight up his back into his shirt. I picked him up, gave him a bath, made him lunch, and then we watched Dora.  Then I put him down for a nap.  We kept him home on Friday too, and thankfully my mother had the day off and babysat for part of the day (since I'd already taken a sick day the week before when James had a fever.)

Jack's teacher blamed the class-wide illness on a parent who had sent his/her child to school knowing full well that he/she was ill.  By Saturday we were cursing that parent.

My mother and step dad had kindly offered to babysit both boys while David and I had a day out for Christmas shopping and whatever.  We'd been looking forward to this for weeks and we were even going to grab an early dinner, just the two of us. But on Saturday David fell ill with this disease.  He couldn't go.  It was a low point of our week when we were both crying -- him feeling guilty for being sick and making us miss our day out and me whining that "nothing is ever easy and why is it always so hard?" Pathetic we were.

We decided I would go without him and try to finish our Christmas shopping. I settled the boys down at my mom's house and went to the main drag of Chestnut Hill, which is a neighborhood in the city with a lot of independently owned shops. When I got there I was still sniffling in my self pity about my day gone wrong.  But as I walked down the street by myself, popping into stores, listening to the holiday music, the hysteria started to lose its hold.  At one point I went into Robertson's Flowers. They had converted the Victorian greenhouse in the back into a breakfast and lunch place. I walked through the orchid room  to go peek into the greenhouse, now a restaurant called "Cake."  There were about 15 tables back there and about a third of them had adults seated at them. They were sipping coffee and having conversations under the light of a gray winter sky coming down through the panes of glass high above their heads.

I glimpsed civilization in that moment. It's been a long time since I've paid attention to what I've been missing.

When I got back to my mom's place she looked harried.  She was holding James and getting the toy tea set ready for Jack's tea party.  Jack had been awake for about 20 minutes.

"I don't know how you are doing this," she said.

I don't know how I am either.  I feel like things keep slipping through the cracks. My house is a wreck.  I never have time for makeup.  I have no clothes that fit me because I don't have time to find any. But I love my boys, and rather than fussing over these trivial things, I am focusing my life on enjoying my moments with them.

When things ease up, though, I'm headed to that greenhouse for some coffee with adults.

Comments

[Aurelia]

Yep, civilization is lovely isn't it? I've been there for awhile, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane for wanting to go back to the world of stomach bugs and diapers.

[Aurelia]

Oh god, that sound awful...I'm NOT saying you are insane, I'm just a little caught up in my own world...i-yi-yi nevermind,

[Eva]

Well, at least you're not sitting around actively missing it! And you'll get back to it again. So sorry for the illness.

[magpie]

Things will ease up - they will, and you will get to be a grownup once in a while again.