I was sick. I still am.
Daddy K, Baby O and myself had a simple dinner of duck porridge and some dim-sum at the food court ‘cos I was having a slight throat irritation on Saturday. Before we went home, K asked me whether I want to get a cake.
“It’s Mother’s Day.”
For my hubs, special occasions= cake.
So I got myself this:
It’s delicious by the way.
K ate the cake too. So it’s safe to say, for that entire day, everyone ate the same things.
During the wee hours, I had to go to the bathroom and suddenly I’m feeling very squeamish. Then I started having a bit of diarrhea. Before I knew it, I was ready to pass out.
Having multiple experiences as such, I stayed close to the ground and only when I’ve perspired it out, feeling some consciousness return to me, did I half crawl back to the bed.
When I woke up on Sunday, I felt like my head was spinning. I couldn’t eat. The entire day, I survived on two packets of biscuits, a cup of milo and some mouthfuls of K’s hor fun.
Monday saw me still half a dead person. Scrolling through all those Mother’s day weekend posts on Facebook, I was thinking, oh, at least I got a cake.
I got some medicine from the Chinese medicinal hall and dazed through the day.
It’s during the time I fetch Baby O back from school at around 5:30 pm did I realize why people say looking at children playing is therapeutic.
Most times, when I was watching O play, I feel bored as heck.
But that evening, while staring at him put his toys into a tin can and emptying it out, over and over again, it’s really therapeutic. O was thankfully really tame that night (Thank God) and he was just trying to perfect that single move without bothering me.
So yeah, Mother’s Day?
Lesson learnt– Watching children play can be indeed therapeutic. When your heart and mind slows to the same pace. 🙂