Hello again! It’s been more than a week since I blogged my 40 before 40 list, and a whole year’s worth of emotions I think. I quite enjoyed the quiet days post Christmas, with no anxiety over people getting ill before Christmas, no risk of self isolations from school, nowhere to be. As dreamy as that sounds, not all of us are made for the hibernation life, so we’ve needed to do a lot of walks and scootering in ice and mud and rain-but we’ve missed the snow sadly.

So we did jobs, we did walks, we did crafts, we ate and watched tv and played games and I got stuck into my list with enthusiasm. In my Twixmas haze, I embraced the slow life. As much as is possible when living with Christmas carnage, with wild things who wake early and with sleepier, grumpy in a quieter way wild things who stay up till late.

I bravely attempted to wear jeans one day (a very foolish idea), and spent New Year’s Eve introducing my older children to Les Misérables. It seemed fitting somehow.

‘There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes…’

Of course January 1st dawned and it was not the day of freedom, new beginnings, or the revolution. As we hoovered pine needles and dusted windowsills, even my Pollyanna optimism started to dwindle. The weekend was hard, we are tired and keeping up motivation to entertain and be engaged with family members from morning until night is wearing thin.

And then there was Monday’s England lockdown news.

Honestly, sometimes there’s just no more words to write. We don’t want to hear of more lockdowns, more home learning, more staying at home. The weather is bleak, our energy has gone, and it’s just hard. With every new piece of bad news, there are a million emotions. Some days they hit us harder than others, for different reasons for different people.

And sometimes we’re still just processing the last few weeks before another wave crashes in again, knocking us off our feet again.

I don’t really know where I’m at this time. Wales locked down before Christmas, so it doesn’t feel like a new blow for us, and I was already fairly sure January would be a write off. But there have been moments where I’ve wondered how we’ll ever get out of this. And there are days where I wake up aiming to be positive, but life happens and others don’t feel so cheery or the news is full of a world in chaos and by the end of the day we’re all a bit done with it all.

I honestly don’t have any new insights. We’ve been here for 9 months. But we’re still here, aren’t we? And for that I’m grateful. And that gives me hope. So here’s what I’ve been up to the last week that has kept me from going mad.

– Trying to get up before the kids and having some quiet time. Normally they invade my solitude, but that’s ok. I was still there first! I read my Bible, pray, journal. There are days where for various reasons I don’t. And that’s ok too. But the days I do manage, it really helps.

– I’ve finished two books I started before Christmas. One was Adam Kay’s ‘Twas the Nightshift Before Christmas’. Hilarious, harrowing, and appealed to the ex-midwife in me. The other was a gift for my birthday, Jen Hatmaker’s ‘Fierce, Free, and Full of Fire’. The thing I love about being given books that I wouldn’t normally have read is that you read with no real agenda. I didn’t agree with everything in it, but there were some brilliant points too, that made me think and inspired me.

– Crocheted. Obvs. I finished the Advent crochet-along, a winter ruler who I’ve had to hide from my Elsa-obsessed 5 year old son. I’ve made two premature baby hats and have another little project to gift on the go. My theory is it’s cheaper than counselling and it doesn’t make me cry (if we don’t talk about my spending on the wool, which could cost more and may make Liam cry!).

– Baked twice just for fun. A Chocolate Cloud cake for New Year’s Eve, which we adorned with Crunchie and sparklers and I thought about Dan, because he introduced us to it’s deliciousness first.

And another nostalgic home inspired bake, Cheese Scones for Sunday teatime. Maybe my therapy for all I’m missing is to surround myself with things that make me feel warm and fuzzy, like my parents living room with an open fire. If I can’t be there, I’ll re-create the smells and tastes and find comfort in the baking. And eating.

– I actually went for a run. It was muddy and icy and I was slow and felt like a Christmas pudding on legs, but I did it and it was invigorating. I’ll spare you a photo, you’ll just have to take my word for it.

– After we cleared Christmas away I left all the walls and mantelpieces bare for a few days. To clear my head, I think. And then I put back the things I love and some new happy things like the bright and fragrant dried flowers I had for Christmas. They are a reminder of the colour that has been, a promise of colour that will return again, and I can’t kill them. Winning all round.

I spent a day sorting out things I’d stacked in the garage for the charity shop. I have to smuggle them out there or the resident hoarders try to lynch me for every outgrown sock and unplayed with soft toy that have ever graced our lives. It turns out I had three boxes of leftover party accessories. Looking through them was like going through our family history – Toy Story napkins from Toby’s first birthday…remnants from many Frozen parties…the cupcake stand from Maddie’s Dear Zoo second birthday tea not long after she’d arrived with us. The sentimental part of me would keep one of each and scrapbook them. The frugal me would keep them and throw a multi-themed party. Sorry Megan, your sweet 16 will be themed ‘birthdays through the years’. And the tidying me tutted at having not sorted them before and condensed three boxes to one, which I was very happy about. Only the charity shops are shut in lockdown. So back in the garage it all goes.

However you’re feeling these days, know there’s no pressure to be a certain way. Maybe you’re not in a tidying or baking or crafting place. That’s ok. We’re in tough times. On Monday I barely moved. It was the first day of home learning and I was like my sulky teenagers about it. Sometimes ‘one day at a time’ is too much.

But we can do one step at a time. One half hour at a time. One meal at a time. One song in the background at a time. One FaceTime coffee date at a time. Book in little rewards for ourselves-once we’ve wrestled through the 8 times table, it’s cup of tea/snack time. Once the smallest is in bed, it’s trashy TV/wine/chocolate/bed with a book time. When we’ve managed a week, celebrate with takeaway time.

And we can do it, one prayer at a time. Because whatever the days are like, we don’t ever have to do it alone.

“I called on your name, O LORD, from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, ‘Do not close your ear to my cry for help!’
You came near when I called on you; you said, ‘Do not fear!’
“You have taken up my cause, O Lord; you have redeemed my life. – Lamentations 3:55-58

Sending virtual hugs out into the world, and much love for tomorrow.