I was woken early today – somewhere near 6 kind of early, which is really quite unacceptable when it’s only been 7 hours since you said goodnight to the oldest child. Anyway, I heard the delicate tones of three small people loudly arguing on the stairs. So I decided in the interests of all other sleeping family members, I would take them downstairs and we would sleepily watch the telly.

We had an amazing early morning delivery of fresh eggs from our friends, so Liam cooked eggs in 3 different forms before school, which meant we were already on leisurely timing for the school day.

But then morning didn’t go quite as planned. I’m trying to gently chat to each of the children about school. How they feel about going back, what it might look like, what we should do. I started this conversation with one of the older children, and was completely unprepared for how emotive it would be. The anxieties, her fears, the many thought out reasons why she absolutely doesn’t feel ready to go back. We talked and hugged and I promised we hadn’t decided yet.

I moved from that tricky conversation to coaxing Maddie through maths she wasn’t keen on, despite my creative efforts at making bees to help with wing addition. Actually it was only bribery of baking a bee chocolate cake that helped the situation.

And of course as soon as the small boys got wind of chocolate and stirring they were insistent on being involved. Which always makes for an entertaining baking experience.

Maddie pranced around at some point this morning with her wings on, and I overheard her trying to encourage Theo to play with her.

‘I thought you wanted to play with the most beautiful and best owl ever – Me.’

I think that sold it to him.

Later she appeared in the same dress but had put a pair of tights on. ‘Mum!’ She said, ‘have you seen the new me?!’

I could do with a pair of those tights.

There were a few ‘incidents’ today. The paddling pool began to deflate and created a puddle, or a ‘swamp’ according to the kids. Which I looked out of the window and saw them knee-deep in. Shoes, socks, trousers soaked.

A little while later I answered the door to a delivery driver, and as I shut it, I heard Micah crying from upstairs. It turned out he was attempting to get clean socks, and had tried to climb the chest of drawers, which he was now holding up as it leaned precariously on him. That child is ageing me faster than the other five put together. It’s a good job he’s got super strength in those arms.

We recovered with some afternoon tv which two children thought would be better watched upside down. To be fair, we’ve watched Trolls so many times maybe it would be more entertaining from a different angle?

Maddie, Micah and I finished decorating the bee cake, which she insisted on adding larva at three different stages of development to, along with the adult bees. She’s committed to accuracy, this one.

Today has been a strangely emotional one, where it’s felt like all of the children’s different needs have been heightened and required patience, care and attention. Whilst at the same time the question of school is weighing down on us.

Two schools have sent surveys asking if the children will be attending which have to be completed by tomorrow, but we won’t get the details of plans regarding how school will look until Monday. Which makes it a little tricky to make a decision with not a great deal of information. I can see so many reasons both to send them back and to keep them home, and it’s not overly simple which might be the best option for each child.

Two of our children have medical/psychological issues that have been heightened during lockdown, and could cause more stress back in the school environment. One is deaf, and will struggle more than usual if teachers or pupils choose to wear masks, or even just in the 2 metre distance from others. Another is committed to finger sucking and abandoning a seriously germ-infested but much loved cuddle ‘toppy’ wherever she feels so inclined, perhaps defeating the object of any hand washing and social distancing school might attempt.

We had tears and discussions with two of the older children today, over various matters. Then I received a 50 minute video sent from the psychology service to adoptive parents regarding the return to school to watch, and later Liam received an email with updated furlough information from his workplace to look through.

And it just felt like a heavy sort of day. Albeit with comedy moments thrown in, like Theo declaring Megan ‘the Queen of poop. And wee. And toilets. And stinky!’ because he was a bit annoyed with her. You have to love four year old boys for their insulting yet mood-lightening abilities.

I stood in kitchen attacking the mammoth clean up operation whilst Liam sorted the kids bedtime, and I felt quite tearful with the weight of it all. But as I washed up, the music in the background played,

‘Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.’

And the verse that keeps popping into my head returned again,

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
‭‭Exodus‬ ‭14:14‬ ‭

And the one that says,

‘Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock.’ – Isaiah 26:4

And I felt peace. That the best thing I can do is to be still, to hide in the cleft of the everlasting Rock. Finding rest and grace for today there, and wisdom and hope for tomorrow.

There probably isn’t a clear answer on school, and the weeks may continue to be a bit tricky. But the Rock we stand on is unchanging and strong, and He is the One who is fighting for us, never leaving us alone in it. So even if it’s unsettling, I don’t have to be unsettled. I can be still.