Today was a wobbly day. There were definitely some post birthday blues hanging over us. Whilst the boys were counting caterpillars on a leaf, Maddie and I were attempting a maths challenge. It was a struggle. And today I wasn’t the parent who could work through the layers of obstacles to the learning. Today I felt like the emotional punch bag for several of my children at different points. One didn’t want to work, another was stubbornly refusing to stop despite needing to take a break. And for whatever reason, despite my efforts to be understanding and fair and gentle, it didn’t feel like I could help.

But Daddy could. And they worked through that task together, and I watched and was grateful.

Yesterday in an unusual moment of proactive parenting, I prepared a game for today, which was a big hit. I froze blocks of coloured ice with little toys in, and this morning I dropped them on the tray, gave the kids syringes and water, and they squirted away to melt the ice.

Of course the delicate syringe squirting didn’t give fast enough results, so one headed for the water gun option, and the other went straight for the massive rock smashing technique. Simple, but effective. Sadly the plate didn’t make it. Still, for five minutes preparation, it provided a good amount of entertainment and satisfactory levels of wetness for my water loving people.

Micah’s clothes didn’t fare too well in that game, but he didn’t seem to mind too much.

The older children were perturbed by his exhibitionism however, and felt he needed a modesty outfit.

Two birthdays were not enough for one week, in lockdown you take any opportunity for a party to break things up, so Toby and I started prepping for VE Day festivities. He enjoys helping in the kitchen, and pastry making is always a fun baking experience.

Since Megan’s birthday her hammock has been the cause of much envy from her younger siblings, but Liam seems to have a secret stash of them, which went down well with this pair.

It turns out one can’t keep consuming cake indefinitely without it having an impact on the hips. Joe Wicks wasn’t keeping our class under control enough to be worthy of actual exercise, so I took the plunge and did Session 1 of Couch to 5k tonight. I’m pleased to report that I neither collapsed or was assaulted, both of which are my genuine fears when considering exercise. And I actually did enjoy it, I think I might be at ‘couch with the odd trip to the fridge’ level of fitness, rather than total couch potato, which is a relief.

It helped my head to get out for a bit too. I don’t obsess over the media these days, but I keep a vague eye on what’s happening, and it feels like there have been such mixed messages this week about what might happen. And I started to feel anxious about it. I neither want it to last a long time, nor do I feel ready to go back to ‘normal’ life. Someone asked recently what we’d lost and gained in lockdown, and I’ve been pondering that this week, One of the things I’m grateful for is the lack of time pressure. To not be fighting to get everyone out of the house early in the morning, then racing back and forth to nursery and schools, to after school clubs, and back out after dinner. But my fear is that I don’t know if that can or will change greatly when life starts up again. And the thought of that makes me anxious.

So I went out, of my house, of my estate, and saw the hills and the sun starting to set, and lifted my eyes back up and gained some perspective again. I don’t know what tomorrow or the next weeks hold, and I don’t need to know. I’m so grateful that we’re still together, still safe, we still have all we need. And God still knows what’s going on. So I hold onto this verse from Hebrews tonight, trusting that the One who created the beautiful sunsets is here with me in the good days and the weary wobbly days.

‘Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.’ Hebrews 4:16