It’s only Tuesday so obviously we started enthusiastically. We were there ready for Joe at 9. We were all more motivated today. Well, all except the two small boys, who thought it was far more fun to get all the balls from the basket and throw them at me whilst exercising. Like a 30 second plank wasn’t challenging enough, without having rugby balls aimed at your head.

PE complete, we settled down to work. I thought I was doing well setting Maddie some time-telling challenges. It turns out she knows how to tell the time and flew through that in 5 minutes. In that time I attempted to give the two boys activities which they threw across the table, and Toby had a sad little meltdown over missing school and his friends and generally being fed up of our new normal.

So we left the big girls to it, we found cardboard and paint to go outside for the little ones, and phoned a friend for Toby to chat to.

And that was really how the day went. It wasn’t bad, but we were just all a bit droopy. So I just went with it. The small ones played in the garden until lunch, the bigger ones did a bit of work, and then after lunch we chilled.

Which I think is what everyone needed, judging by the naps on the sofa. They watched films, Liam had some important jobs to do in the garage, and I pottered in between laundry, housework, and connecting with family and friends.

It’s such a strange time of feeling like I’m not really doing anything. It’s like going camping, when making a cup of tea seems like a monumental moment in the day. But at the same time it’s frustrating. I’m a doer, a fixer, a helper. I left the health service 8 years ago, but I’m watching everything that’s going on and wishing I could do more than just being supportive. I stopped fostering 3 years ago, but knowing there are so many vulnerable children and families out there makes me feel helpless.

So I do what I can. I pray. I try and care for my people. I try and connect with friends and family and see how they are. Because these days are difficult for everyone. No matter who you are, there’s an impact. And like someone said in a text today, what is tough looks so different for everyone in this. In so many ways I feel like we in our little corner are getting away lightly. All we are being asked to do is to stay at home, safely, together. And my heart aches for those who are facing much harder days. Grief. Loneliness. Illness. Job loss. Anxiety for their own vulnerability or someone they love. Going to work not knowing what they’re facing.

Today I felt like I wished I could do more. But for now, here is where I am meant to be. So I made meatballs and chocolate mousse and hugged my people and even let Liam hide in the garage. (Sorry, he was doing jobs.)

And I spoke to friends and family and was grateful. And I listened to music and read verses like these, and I prayed that I can help where I can, and I that I love those around me whilst we all wait and hope.

20 Our soul waits for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.
21 For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.
22 Let your steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you. – Psalm 33:20-22