Apparently it’s Wednesday, but I struggle to keep track of the days of the week as well as what number day we’re on now. We didn’t manage Joe W today, I had to do a food shop, which I try and do earlyish to arrive at the optimum point of lack of queue but still having the possibility of there being flour on the shelf. I struck gold today-bags and bags of flour! Including a factory size sack! Which I didn’t buy because it was £9 and even I don’t need that much flour. But I did feel awkward when the cashier starting talking about why on earth people would buy the big bags of pasta or the tray of 30 eggs. I am one of those people. I didn’t tell her though. Sometimes the whole ‘there’s eight of us’ conversation is just too much to be overwhelming people with on a Wednesday morning.

Anyway, we didn’t manage Joe but the smaller family members wanted to do Andy’s Wild Workouts. Well, you may notice that the smallest member had a lying down protest about not joining in. But the others were keen.

When we knew we wouldn’t be going on holiday for Easter, I bought a couple of new things to stash away for a day when we needed something new to break the monotony. So having had two tricky days this week, I brought out the Frozen Lego. Which kept the younger ones pretty happy for most of the day. Toby is a whizz on building Lego, so he was keen to ‘help’ Maddie and Theo, and it gave them something new to play with for the day. And then destroy. And then have Toby tell them off for destroying it before happily rebuilding. It seems like a lovely circle of entertainment.

Absolutely the high spot of the days is when you have a nice delivery on the doorstep. I’m very keen to support small businesses. Especially when they make the best brownies I’ve ever tasted. I’m not sharing these with the kids, although I split one with Liam and the Micah plopped himself between us. He lay his head on Liam’s arm and looked longing up at him. ‘I’m hungry’, he said sadly. And was fed a mini egg. Then he moved across the sofa, lay his head on my arm, and looked up at me. ‘I’m hungry?’

Ha.

I did share. Because he has those eyes. But I’m eating the next one alone. In the garage.

We FaceTimed my mum and dad this morning. My dad quizzed Toby on the Second World War, and Maddie and Theo excitedly showed mum their Lego. Micah had a meltdown afterwards. It reminds me of when we had foster children who would struggle massively with contact with birth family members. They’re so excited to see those people, but saying goodbye and not knowing when the next time will be is a fresh trauma every time. They are dysregulated, and they take all the emotion out on the people at home. I get it, in a small way. I feel elements of that every time I FaceTime or zoom family and friends. It’s lovely, but it’s not enough. And for Micah, it tipped him over the emotional edge of knowing whether he wanted a bagel or sandwich for lunch.

I was going for a walk this afternoon. I was going to go on my own. Then I said I’d take Toby, to get him off a screen. Then Maddie wanted to come too. Then Theo wanted to come too. So me and three of the kids went on a walk. We went and threw stones in the river, and whilst we were there an actual real life person we knew saw us and stopped at the top of the bank to say hi. At which point Theo somehow managed to throw the rock on his own head and erupt into an ear piercing screech followed by tears. So the friend left us to it, and having assessed that Theo was actually fine, I felt a bit robbed of that human interaction from the outside world.

Maddie’s wearing all her fancy and favourite clothes on any given day, because why not? There’s no point saving them and possibly growing out of them before a special occasion! Every day can be a fancy day if you want it to be.

Micah had a little late afternoon nap and was then rather oppositional when it was dinner time. I called him to the dining room, so he ran to the kitchen. I called him back, to which he informed me that no, dinner was in the garden ‘actually’. And he plonked himself down and genuinely looked like he’d rather eat wooden food than the tuna pasta I’d made. I had to meet him halfway with offering bread and butter as an accompaniment in the end. I gave him the real stuff though, not the wooden loaf.

Liam had a bit of a cough this morning, which we wondered if (hoped…) it was hayfever initially. However, despite the antihistamines and the paracetamol, as the day wore on the cough increased, along with achey muscles, headache, and then an early night. So it looks like we’re back on self isolation again. Obviously this time literally the only difference it makes it that I can’t go to the shop anymore.

It’s such a strange experience isn’t it. For those of us who aren’t facing the reality of this disease in work or at home, there is an element of living in a bubble of safety. On the odd occasion when we go to the shop or watch the news we are reminded that everything is different and strange, but still, we can’t see the virus or touch it. It’s out there but almost mystical. But when someone in the home starts to feel unwell, the anxiety can rise, especially as more people nearby or that we know of are affected by Covid. The thermometer has never been so well used. Every cough is like a siren sound. It’s hard to find the right level of care without paranoia.

But I’m reminded tonight I can only do what I can do. My anxiety won’t prevent anything bad happening, and it won’t make anything better in the meantime. I can do what I can, offer medication and check temperatures, and keep us all at home, and I can pray and trust and hope, and in it all, I can be at peace.

1 O LORD, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.
3 O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forevermore. – Psalms 131