Category: Uncategorized

Oh global pandemic, how we underestimated you! Around this time last year I was commenting with some bemusement on the panic that was spreading around me. There were no bombs dropping! We were safe at home, it was novel to have a go at home education, this was fine. I had no idea. None at all. Perhaps there are corners of the world, lightly touched by the pandemic within which people still feel like this.

I take it all back.

This has been horrible, and in ways I could never have anticipated.

Perhaps this is where we can find a silver lining. There has been a lot to learn. And that’s just for me, sitting in my comfortable house with a lovely garden, for which I have been very grateful. There are those who have been through the same thing with a lot less space, and that must have been an awful lot more difficult.

When our children (the first two) were very small we considered home educating and decided against it for a variety of reasons. I appreciate that what we have experienced has not been like real home education. The first time around, we had a single sheet of maths and one of English for the children. It took all of five minutes to realise this wasn’t going to be enough so I devised all sorts of other things. There were daily debates, a permaculture project, learning to draw caricatures paired with a prime ministers project. We were creative and engaging, the Wall of Work looked great. It was exhausting, life sapping, draining. It was entirely consuming. I was eaten up by it and that was just about all there was to life. We could go no where, see no one. It was up to us to provide for our children’s needs.

In the winter lockdown Red had started secondary school and his day was filled 9am-9pm with the work he was expected to complete. I will be forever thankful that he was able to tackle that mountain independently because there wasn’t much of me to spare. Myrtle had a lot more work to do, but not much more teacher input which meant that we needed to provide the input so that she could learn and do at least some of the work set. And there was Birch.

On the plus side, our children were never anxious or fearful. They learned and grew and kept going. And we managed, just about.

The thing that I found really interesting, beyond just how difficult it all was (in an “I don’t know if I can do this” no joke, can’t see the way through, kind of way) was that the thing we all missed was the same. And we couldn’t provide it for our children or for ourselves.

What we all needed and couldn’t have, was other people just to be alongside. The children didn’t specifically miss playing with other children, or learning with them although they did miss these things. They just missed being with them, which was exactly what Ben and I missed too. Whether it was to work, play, talk, be silent. Our children were fortunate to have one another but they had friends who withdrew and became terribly sad because there was no one alongside. We all had each other, but there was no coming home at the end of the day ready to share what we had seen and done and thought. And that was really sad.

When we thought about home educating we were concerned that we couldn’t provide the social interaction our children would want. Now I realise we couldn’t have provided the interaction they needed, every day. Once a week isn’t enough. Twice, three times. Not enough. They, even more than us, need to be alongside others. Every day. Because that every day holds so many functions. There’s the learning and the playing but there’s also the shared experiences: when there’s two that’s twice as many, but when that’s more it’s so much more. And then there’s the times when it’s about just being there, together with a friend and not with me, so that at the end of the day you and I can share what you’ve experienced and figure it out together. I still don’t feel I’ve really captured what it was that was so crucial but whatever it is, it’s more essential than I had ever envisioned.

This year has been so much more than I ever imagined. More painful and lonely, sad and empty. Life is so much more when there are others alongside, who we can go out and experience, come home and understand together.

On that last day of school in March 2020 the senior lead teacher stood on the playground waving goodbye to the children. He couldn’t speak for the emotions that were shaking his body. I wondered what he could foresee that created such powerful feelings in him. Now I know what I was missing. He was right, and I know what we are missing. It’s not over yet but I’ve had my first jab and I’m looking forward to getting my second. There are risks associated with vaccination but they are nothing to what we have missed.

I really hope this is over soon.

This is not the first time for me. I’ve been stuck at home and unable to go out for an extended period of time three times before. Each with pregnancy sickness that rendered me unable to get out of bed for weeks and weeks. About 20 weeks at a time, or thereabouts. I’m not sure which time was the hardest.

There are those who know, having been through it; hi to you. We’re in a strange, secret club. A brief conversation and we recognise one another. The horrific taste in the mouth, the trips to the toilet bowl every 20 minutes (minimum) and the isolation. And the teeth cleaning issue. Still not quite sure what that was about.

There was one big difference.

I’m not sure which pregnancy was the hardest. With the first, the sickness was the most violent. The second it went on the longest, and I had a toddler to look after. The third was a surprise, which took a while to get used to. Drugs helped with that one though.

The difference was that I knew when the sickness would end. If not before, it would end with giving birth. And that would make it all worthwhile as well as providing a goal to aim for. At the beginning of each pregnancy, it seemed like such a long time to wait. Lying at the ceiling, making patterns out of the knots of the wood in the mirror frame. But I had some idea when it would end. I remember thinking about how for people with chronic health issues there was no end to look forward to.

This time around, there’s a good reason for this isolation (as good as a baby? I’m undecided on that), but we don’t know how long it will go on for. I suspect when it comes to an end we might feel had we known the length beforehand we might have found it easier, having something to aim for and knowing when the end would come. On the other hand, this is good practice for life. We don’t know how long, and we have to keep going either way.

And I don’t have to stay in bed vomiting the whole time. That’s definitely a bonus.

There are times when it’s important to feel the feelings, and this was one of those kinds of days. My Nan was buried today. I wasn’t there. Those are not good feelings but still, it is good to feel them. I spent some time looking at some old photos and remembering again how I loved her and my Grandad.

A strange parenting experience is that you feel all the feelings whilst cooking poached eggs (I have them down to an art), sorting socks (yes, simultaneously that can be a problem, but you need all the skills..) and working on maths problems. Just don’t try to change a nappy at the same time. It’s not always easy to keep the feelings out of the children’s sight but I also sometimes feel it’s not helpful to try. They are sensitive and we are tuned into one another, so they notice pretty easily. Not explaining and not being open about how I’m feeling can be scary for them, scarier than sharing with them I’m feeling a bit sad but that’s ok, it’s not something they have to hide, and nor is it something I have to conceal from them. And if I do try to hide it, it usually shows itself when I am more snappy and short-tempered than usual; again I wonder if that is the more harmful expression of emotion.

This seems particularly relevant while we are all cooped up together. It’s an opportunity to be honest and to model healthy ways to manage feelings. We are all going to be feeling all the feelings over the next few months. Days like this are for hugs and quiet moments by the fire, talking and sharing and figuring out how you move forward together.

Time to snuggle up with my feelings and a hot water bottle for a while and remember some really special memories. Those moments have passed, but the moments to remember come round often enough.

This is so much easier for me than for so, so many people. Someone reminded me this week that this is not so unlike the time we lived in Kent. When Red and Myrtle were little we lived in a picturesque cottage in Kent with a big garden and not too many people around. By which I mean, no-one around apart from the landlord who cut the grass on a ride on mower and addressed me as “M’lady”. For good or ill, it was a title that suited me quite well.

There were two big differences though. Red and Myrtle were 0 and 3, or 1 and 4 at that time. Now they are 11 and 8. And Ben worked 10-12 hours in London. That made it much harder. We really were on our own. We also had the choice to go out; usually after a prolonged afternoon nap to wander the tranquil gardens of Hever Castle.

For a lot of people that sounds like every part of their worst nightmare, but for me whilst it was tiring and hard work, it was also peaceful and settled. It was a choice. It suited me pretty well, but we began to realise that our children might need a little more. That was one of the reasons we moved, and I’m glad we did.

Now what I realise is that that life suited me pretty well, but it didn’t give me the opportunity to help anyone else. It didn’t challenge me to recognise the needs of others or look beyond my own situation. I could focus on my own needs but not consider what might help someone else.

Now we are in isolation at home. Red had a temperature last night. Maybe it was coronavirus, and maybe it wasn’t. He’s been feeling poorly today but well enough to also be a bit bored. And now I can see that we are reliant on the help of others and there’s not much I can do to support those around me. 14 days at least, at home. Not so big a challenge for me, but now I can see what’s missing.

We’ve done a week of home school now. We’ve completed or attempted to complete the tasks set by school. One literacy, one numeracy. Something creative in the afternoon.

Generally speaking, Red completes them quickly and easily and once he’s done I decide Myrtle is done too. Often she has completed what she’s been asked to do, but sometimes the effort she has made I consider to be enough. The tasks are not always equal and their different approaches mean in the same amount of time she has done what is needed. This time is not about pushing and struggling. It’s about acknowledging effort and making the most of the other opportunities that this time presents. If you’re feeling I’m doing better at this than you, there are a couple of things you should consider. I don’t find the isolation as challenging as anyone else I know. And we’re spending about 40 minutes a day on structured school activities. The rest of the time we are playing outside, drawing, imagining, bouncing, painting. Not doing anything; staring into the middle distance and contemplating the view.

Sometimes it’s all about context.

I hope in 14 days we will be in a position to support and help others. In the meantime, we are very grateful for the bags of shopping and the treats tucked inside them.

 

So many things to be grateful for, and so many good things to notice. I’ve always quite fancied trying homeschooling but have felt that I just might not do a good enough job. This gives me the chance to try, without the pressure.

And so far, it’s going well.

It’s exhausting. Fortunately, Birch usually naps and now that we dumped the dummy (a week ago, was that good timing or not?) he especially likes me to snug up with him which provides a good excuse for an afternoon nap.

Our afternoons are mainly taken up with creative activities. Today the kids created fantasy worlds to begin planning a fun story whilst Birch and I napped. Mmmm, this is my favourite kind of parenting. Of course, this was only after creating playdough animals (the cow went well, the sheep less so) whilst explaining mathematical concepts to Myrtle (we both prefer English), retrieving from the annuls of time how to work with negative numbers with Red, and then working through converting nouns and adjectives to verbs using -ate, -ise, and -ive, as endings, I feel like perhaps I’d earned it.

The highlights today were realising we could have a mid-morning snack of fruit salad that Myrtle would love to prepare and we would all enjoy eating and managing to walk the long way with all three children to post letters they had written to their friends. In the most glorious, warm sunshine. The first, early spring sunshine might just be the sunshine I appreciate more than anything all year. We could stroll slowly and spot bumble bees, Birch’s most recent fascination. A good day.

I’m still remembering the first flat Ben and I lived in when we were first married. We had two rooms (one of which was the bedroom) and a bathroom we could just about stand shoulder to shoulder in. It was totally fine for a first flat and it was in a nice village in Kent. Upstairs there was a family with a little girl. I’m imagining what it must be like for families like that, maybe in those high rises that you drive past on the M6. If I were living with a family in one of those flats, I think I might feel I needed to get out more than once a day. I hope people in that situation can find a nice place to be, outside. That takes some organisation with small children. I’m feeling tired, but I have absolutely nothing to complain about.

I have to say, I’ve been wondering if maybe we are too ready to complain. There have been many people throughout history who have lived in more difficult times than these. I think it’s important that we keep reminding ourselves of that. We’ve never experienced anything like this, but people in other times have. And much, much worse.

In the meantime, I am feeling tired. It’s 20.38pm. I’m ready for bed. G’night x

Writing this might turn out to be a mistake. Still, this is without value if it is without honesty.

The thing I am finding most challenging so far is all the negative invective directed towards those who make a different judgment about how to handle all this. That’s not to say I agree with them. I think we should follow government advice. I think we should buy only enough food for the week ahead. I think we should stay at home.

I also think we should use language that embodies the principles we try to uphold; to be compassionate and thoughtful and understanding. Society is fragmented enough. Humans can be divided along every line you can think of. And on the other side of the line, they are always the “other”. It might or might not be true. The people meeting up might be “very selfish”. “idiots”, whatever other unpleasant word you wish to apply. They also might be misinformed, lonely, desperate, trapped, struggling. Those things may mean that they are not making the best choices. They can still be wrong. And harsher words, at least to some might be applicable; that doesn’t mean we have to use those words. We have a choice. How quick we are to use those words, how quick to condemn.

I appreciate people are really frightened and they are really concerned that people should start following the advice we are being given. I realise the government are trying to shame and scare people into doing as they are told. I can see that people are trying to support that aim. I just don’t see the need to be so strong and judgmental in the language we use. It polarizes people, suddenly they have a position to defend when yesterday, they just thought they’d go for a walk. All the meanness is getting me down.

Shouting at children doesn’t make them do as they are told.

Maybe I’m naive and trying to keep my rose-tinted view of the world in place. I don’t want t make excuses for people. I just want to choose kindness. It’s very fashionable until there’s a group of people who the world decides don’t deserve kindness.

The first day of home school has been warm and sunny. In between tasks we’ve been playing in the garden, enjoying the breeze and the newly opened tulips. For today at least, the children have realised that the only friends they have are each other and it might be more fun to get on with each other. Some of the time. It was tricky getting going and the 2-year-old was not a help and he was a hindrance, but then he found he could collect stones from the garden and arrange them in important and time-consuming ways. I’m realising that the fact that the older 2 have already learning to read and write makes this a lot easier. They are used to getting on with tasks independently and generally, their teachers’ explanations are sufficient for them to be clear about what they need to do. Leaving me free to do jigsaws with the 2-year-old.

It’s been a good day.