About 11 years ago, back in the days before good camera phones, Liam saved hard to get me a camera I dreamed of, a Canon DSLR. And I loved it.

But these days it rarely gets an outing, except on special occasions. We’re in the days of quick snapping, carrying light, and advanced smart phones. Unless you have a very old edition phone with a not so great camera. I’ve always loved taking photos, but recently I’ve found myself envying other’s beautiful pictures and dreaming of a better phone.

So today I challenged myself to dig out the ‘real’ camera, and only use that for the day. So here you are, less writing and more pictures, a day seen through a different lens.

The early morning light was lovely as they watched tv and played games. And so was the bed hair look.

Which Toby, especially, rocks. We’re engaged in another battle regarding when I can cut his hair, but he’s adamant his fringe must grow over his eyes – it would be ‘a dream come true’.

We decided we needed to get out today, although we were somewhat delayed by a little lady’s clothes choosing wobble, which lasted for a good 45 minutes and required both parents, a whole heap of patience, and a story book to calm the situation.

But once we got out by the quiet river and into the daisy filled fields, with space to run and sticks to find and air to breathe, it was beautiful and worth the challenges of getting out of the house.

Some people made the most of the wide open spaces more than others.

Others found helicopters to fly.

And others nearly fell over backwards trying to drink from the 8 person water bottle.

Certain big sisters cringed with embarrassment over their four year old brother, who shouted at a poor lady walking behind us, ‘Stay away Lady!!! I won’t let you attack my family!!! She might kill us with the germs!!!’ Despite Maisie and my reassurances that she was a nice lady who wouldn’t hurt us, he was adamant that he needed to protect us from the danger. I was both glad that he felt loyal enough to protect us, whilst at the same time nervous if we should ever be perceived as the threat. He’s nothing if not passionate.

The littlest legs got worn out by our hike, but he has his oldest sister well and truly wrapped around his finger, and knows where to go for a carry. Before coming back and taking a well earned nap on the sofa.

Once we returned home, it was way past lunch time, so everyone was fed and watered, and had a good chill out. Before long their appetites kicked in again, and they started drifting in proclaiming how hot they were, and how they definitely needed something to cool them down. But not a drink, something cold from the freezer. For some reason the small ones won’t just come out with ‘I’d like an ice cream please’, they seem to think if they give a string of cryptic clues I’ll somehow be conned into coming up with the goods.

Which I obviously am.

It was good to get out today, to take my big camera that requires more thought and skill but catches the images in a way I love, and to alter my perspective.

I have a tendency to overanalysing whether I’m doing the right thing or not, questioning, doubting, worrying. Today I looked through the lens of the Bible, and was reminded that I don’t need to waste my energy on questioning myself. I don’t see the full picture of what is happening around me. But there is One who knows. The ‘I Am’ God who was there before the beginning and has never changed, He sees the whole picture of my family, my future, our world, and He says the best thing I can do is love. Take my eyes off me and trust His goodness, hope in His promises, and most of all, keep showing up and loving those around me.

12 ‘For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.’ – 1 Corinthians 13:12-13

It was a lazy bank holiday morning today, and I snuck out to do a food shop leaving Liam reluctantly making an Elsa out of aqua beads. To be fair, even with all the awkwardness of distancing in the shops, of complicated queues and one way systems, of absent items and hiking prices, I would still opt for the shopping over aqua beads.

But really, the cheap chocolate for baking with is now 60p? That’s almost the price of petrol! Soon it’ll be cheaper to cook with Cadbury’s than the own brand.

The little scene above played out when I returned home. It’s apparently a battle between the Montagues and Capulets. Except that my younger children’s exposure to Shakespeare has been in the form of watching Gnomeo and Juliet repeatedly, otherwise known in our house as the ‘Reds and Blues’.

Theo keenly observed the colours of their t shirts, because his other favourite ‘reds and blues’ feature in the Julia Donaldson book ‘The Smeds and the Smoos’, about a red alien named Janet and a blue alien called Bill.

With the thought of half term looming, over the weekend I thought about how much he loved that book at the moment, and feeling some sort of mis-placed confidence, I thought I’d do some activities this week relating to the book, just to avoid total disorder and anarchy. Although I’m not convinced we’ll succeed, at least we’ll have kept amused in it.

Once I told Theo my ideas, he was very excited and up for kicking off with making edible Smeds and Smoos, along with the ‘loobular lake’ and the ‘humplety hill’.

It turned out to be a fun little activity, which kept various children amused at different points, beginning with making and baking red, blue, and purple biscuits (spoiler alert-Bill and Janet have a purple baby! Shocker, I know!), with Maddie, Theo and Micah.

Then they went off outside and Toby wandered in to help decorate them.

He lost interest after giving them all eyes, but Maddie returned and took over, adding hair, shoes, smiles and antennae. Although the fizzy lace antennae made for good eating as she worked.

For the lake we mashed up green jelly, which proved very appealing for getting their hands in and having a good squelch. Apologies to those family members who may have eaten it later.

And a Rice Krispie cake humplety hill to finish it off.

Theo has great plans for what else we can recreate from the story, which I’m feeling a touch nervous about. I think making the toys might be pushing my creative limits!

Of course, for some of us, the eating was always going to be the best bit of the activity.

It wasn’t exactly a beach bathing, bbq cooking, Prosecco drinking bank holiday, but it kept small people amused and that counts as a win these days. And we had burgers for dinner before I found some Prosecco later in the evening, so I can’t complain too much.

The chicks are still doing well and providing entertainment, although it’s now more about making sure they don’t jump off and attempt to try out their growing flight feathers whilst being ‘cuddled’.

Bedtime tonight was accompanied by a bath and toga wearing before teeth brushing and stories. Bedtime has definitely got later in the more relaxed days, and the lighter evenings. It was a push to get small people settled before we joined our church small group zoom, where we did very poorly in the game. Still, we came second on the family quiz today, confirming I’m much better at questions themed around musicals than I am at defining obscure long words.

I don’t think I’m alone in feeling a bit weary of all of this. Of even the smallest children talking about ‘when the germs are gone’. Of seeing increasing debates on the news and social media about what may be to come. Of the connections with others through screens or, if you’re lucky, at a distance on a driveway, that are precious but still feel a poor relation to actually hanging out. Of 70 days of life being paused sounding like an awful lot, and Maddie telling me, ‘I told you it has been too long, Mummy!’.

But I was reminded of these words from Galatians today,

‘And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.’ – Galatians 6:9

There’s a point and a purpose to this, and it’s worth persevering day by day. The days will come where this will be history, and there will be rewards. So we’ll keep going. For those that are already suffering or grieving, for my family working on the frontline, for my children to see that we respected decisions and we can wait, even when it’s hard. We can get up tomorrow and do another day.

Micah must have wandered downstairs first thing before coming to wake Liam and I up. ‘It’s Maisie’s birthday!’

That was just before 7am. We watched colour learning videos on YouTube, we watched programmes on the telly. At 8:30 I went down to make the breakfast pancakes requested by the birthday girl. At 9 I set off the smoke alarm, and that combined with a visit from her little brothers finally woke her from her teen slumber.

We had a few presents before breakfast. Present giving is normally a combination of a happy birthday child, over excited siblings fighting over who’s giving a present, who’s sitting on the birthday person’s lap, a sulker who can’t cope with the focus of attention being on someone else, and a parent complaining they can’t see or hear the presents being opened over the melee.

Maisie doesn’t eat a lot most days, but she makes up for it on pancake days and birthdays. Especially when bacon is involved.

There was an impromptu costume change before virtual church, two Hogwarts students accompanied by a cowboy and a boy dressed as WonderWoman.

The Bible story today was about Zacchaeus, the short man who climbed a tree to see Jesus. The meaning of the story may have got a little lost because any time the word short is mentioned, Megan takes a lot of rubbing from her siblings for her (lack of) height. To be fair, although Maisie has officially overtaken her and has now reached my great height. Which is all of half an inch taller than Megan.

After lunch our social butterfly had several zooms/FaceTimes and socially distanced visitors to keep her amused whilst Liam played with expanding foam in the summer house and I constructed crêpe towers.

In between trying not to overreact to Micah’s daredevil antics. We’re holding bets on how long it is before he’s on the summer house roof and abseiling over the garden wall.

The cake had its moment over a family zoom with very ill-timed singing, and the two couples who were late to the party paid the price by having to do their own performance of happy birthday.

General consensus over the rainbow crêpe stack was that it looked impressive and tasted lovely, the whipping cream with a touch of icing sugar was much more popular than buttercream to my less sweet toothed family members. And other than the colouring procedure and tossing of 18 pancakes being a bit laborious, it was actually very easy and much less stressful than some of the cakes I’ve attempted over the years. And Maisie loved it, which, at the end of the day, was all that really mattered.

Dinner was Dominos whilst watching a Disney film. Oh how I do love nights with no cooking or washing of dishes! We never eat in front of the telly, and now I know why. I struggle with that level of chaos. Although, come to think of it, the dinner table is equally is wild. Perhaps it’s the people not the environment, one might suggest?!

After dinner excitement was provided by Maisie trying out her new candy floss machine. I don’t think we could be classed as competent enough to open a stall yet, although maybe by the end of lockdown she’ll have perfected the technique. It won her the well sought after favourite sister title for the day though, so a worthy investment some may say.

I asked her this evening if it had been a good day, knowing that she, out of all three girls, was the most sad to not celebrate with friends. She declared it ‘not the best birthday ever, but it was fun.’

I’ll take that.

In my nostalgic pondering over pancake making and rainbow stacking today I thought back to when Maisie was born, and all the emotions that came with her arrival. It had been a rollercoaster couple of years to say the least, and here I was, at 25 years old, at probably one of my lowest emotional points, with a just turned one year old who had never slept, and a newborn baby girl. Who at a few days old, as I watched her weight drop and knew that my mothering instinct was right, I held up next to the window and took a good look in her mouth to find the source of her feeding problems. And discovered a gaping cleft palate.

Suddenly I was thrown into a different mothering role, of advocacy and survival and special needs feeding and impending operations and speech difficulties and hearing loss and all the questions and fears that come with something unexpected.

There are some seasons of life that just are the pits. Emotionally, that was one of my lowest times, with mounting insecurities and shame, and feelings of inadequacy and pressure, guilt and fear, loneliness and exhaustion.

But even in the pits, God heard me. Even when I couldn’t pray, He knew. He was closer than a friend. He saw into the depths of my soul and drew near. Maisie was and has always been a gift I didn’t know I needed.

Maybe lockdown is the pits for some of us. Lonely, fearful, painful, uncertain.

God hears. He hears the words we struggle to voice. He sees the pain we put a brave face on. He knows the fears we try and bury. He loves. he cares.

‘Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!’ – Psalm 4:1

‘As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God!’ – Psalm 40:17

We are never alone.

I heard it before I was fully awake, the sound of the torrential rain outside. When I brought the boys downstairs they stood and looked at it like they’d never seen rain before. Then it got heavier and the sky turned darker and it turned to hail, hammering on the decking and the newly roofed summerhouse and the windows as the boys watched on.

So we accepted and embraced the hunkering down on a slow Saturday morning. Some of us played on screens.

Whilst some of us packed up our ‘car’ to go on holiday. The packing strategy involved picking up boxes and tipping them in the ‘boot’, climbing in their seats and then shouting ‘we need food!!!’. They then ran around grabbing all the food from the toy kitchen and jumped back in the car, waved, and headed off to who knows where.

It gave a little insight into how our children perceive holiday preparations. Possibly quite accurate.

I think I achieved my own personal best of staying in my pyjamas until 11am. I just don’t do it. But today it seemed like there really was nowhere else better to be than under a blanket in the lounge with my books and my crochet and my family mayhem around me.

I got myself into gear then, and made some pizza bagels for lunch.

After lunch the kids had a film, Megan can never resist a Disney to sing along to, and will often be found sneaking in with the younger ones to snuggle a sibling and sing.

Meanwhile I got started on Maisie’s requested birthday cake – a tower of rainbow crêpes. Maddie came and saw me mixing up the colours and asked what potion I was making? A rainbow making one, I replied.

Our lovely friends came to drop something off, and ended up in a long distance nerf battle with Micah. Well, it wasn’t much of a battle as he was the only one with a gun. Which he very quickly shot over the fence. The children so miss interaction with the fabulous people we’re blessed to have in our lives. It brightened their – and our day to have a brief two metre play and chat.

Afterwards, I carried on flipping rainbow crêpes, and was frequently interrupted by various characters. Here I give you Toothless the dragon, Batman, and Hiccup, the dragon rider. I was also visited by Luna Lovegood, a unicorn, and Ghekko from PJ Masks. All in a day’s entertainment.

This evening we were on week 5 of Marvel films, watching Thor. The adults were reprimanded by the children for being on our phones, hence why I had to give my full attention to the film and wait to write until I’d said goodnight to the kids and decorated for Maisie’s birthday tomorrow.

I sometimes think about the things we’ve gained in lockdown that we wouldn’t have otherwise. I doubt we would have committed to the Marvel films. The weeks were so busy and often on Saturday nights Liam and I would either be seeing friends, or eating a late dinner to catch up with each other. There’s something special about these nights, and the kids determination that we watch it with them shows how important it is to them that we’re invested.

As I was watching the rain fall this morning, I thought of my car drive with Maddie yesterday, where she noticed the dry grass on the borders of the dual carriageway, and asked me why it was so brown. After so many weeks of beautiful sun, the earth needed rain today.

It felt like a picture of the world we’re in, dry and thirsty and weary in these days. Worn out of the impact of the virus, of hearing negative news. Waiting with parched lips for hope of change, of freedom from these hard days.

1 “But now hear, O Jacob my servant, Israel whom I have chosen!
2 Thus says the LORD who made you, who formed you from the womb and will help you: Fear not, O Jacob my servant, Jeshurun whom I have chosen.
3 For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants. – Isaiah 44:1-3

But the rain comes to a dry and parched ground, and hope comes to a weary world. The God who created us hasn’t forgotten us. The God who sent His Son to a broken world is a God of promise and hope, who waters the earth with His love and will bring freedom, joy and community once again. Keep looking for rainbows, keep holding onto hope.

It’s the last day before half term, so it felt like we should give a final push on the schoolwork. The truth is we’ve had some resistance to certain aspects from certain pupils. But on Fridays we send the teachers pictures of the work we’ve been doing, so this was a helpful incentive to get some actual writing done today.

One of the suggested tasks was to do a litter pick, which didn’t seem the wisest move given a) the virus, and b) lack of people out/lack of fast food restaurant = lack of litter. So we dug out the recycling box again and sorted our own litter. It’s a good job we didn’t try and do this on Monday, there would have been very little in there. You’ll be surprised but reassured to know that glass bottles were actually significantly low on the bar chart. The alcohol intake has not overtaken the cardboard boxes from my online shopping. It’s still May, which means I can still claim every delivery as ‘birthday presents’. That reasoning gets tricky from June as other than my own, there’s actually no birthdays until November. Maybe I’ll be doing lots of ‘buying ahead’.

Last week I accidentally ordered a parcel with the delivery address down as my sister’s house, so, as it was her birthday today, Maddie and I went to do a socially distanced present delivery and parcel collection. Maddie hasn’t been in the car since lockdown began, and by the time we were coming off the motorway on the other side of town to get to Esther’s house, Maddie said she felt we were too far away and she was home sick.

It was so nice to see Esther in real life, and Maddie was so good at keeping the two metre distance. I think we brightened up the whole street by singing happy birthday. Unfortunately by the time we got home, all of a few miles on straight roads, Maddie was green and felt travel sick. Goodness knows how we’re going to get out of our county when we’re allowed!!!

It was tricky to get the kids outside today as it was so windy. But once they got to the point where they were running in circles around the lounge, and they’d been in the garden but stood at the door begging to come back in, I figured we’d have to be more inventive in entertainment. So we made cookies. Theo was reluctant to put all of the smarties in, but I think the majority of them made it into the mixture, and they went down well for pudding. The last thing he said before bed was to tell me not to eat all of the cookies tonight. I’m trying hard.

Liam ordered him and I a take away as a treat tonight, so I sat as an observer at the kids dinner time. It was highly entertaining, beginning with a musical rendition of Hakuna Matata. A conversation then began about wanting to go to a water park, but Theo said we couldn’t because of Coronavirus. ‘Go-ronavirus?’ asked Micah. ‘Is Coronavirus Welsh?’ Theo asked, to which the older kids laughed, and Toby said ‘no, it was in China. They ate…’

He was rapidly shushed by Megan and Maisie, ‘You can’t tell him! Theo loves bats!’

‘They ate cows’, Toby finished.

‘Why did the cow cross the road?’ asked Theo. ‘To get to the moooovies.’

They really are bonkers.

And then after dinner I caught Micah telling his cars, ‘I’m sorry, you can’t go to the water park because of the germs.’

It feels so surreal and poignant to listen to those kind of conversations, and the strange world we’ve been thrown in to, where pandemic causing viruses are discussed at kids dinner time, casually thrown in between Disney songs and cheesy jokes, and turn up in a 3 year old’s imaginative games.

Earlier I was thinking about yesterday, and why my mind was all over the place. Some days I can remain calm and other days something I hear will trigger all kinds of spiralling thoughts, fears, frustrations.

And I remembered these verses from Philippians, where Paul is talking about peace. And in between his words on not being anxious, and his confidence that he can be content in any situation, he says,

8 ‘Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me-practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.’ – Philippians 4:8-9

There is another verse that talks about ‘taking every thought captive’ (2 Cor 10:5). I have a choice whether to let my mind run away with me, the fears and anxieties overwhelming me, or whether to pause, to be still, and to take my thoughts captive, turning them to choosing to think on the good, the lovely, the things to be grateful for. It’s not denial of the hard things, they need acknowledging too. But for me it’s a choice between allowing them to take over and affect how patient I am with the kids, how kind I am to Liam, how frustrated I am at the situation; or to choose to keep hoping, keep trusting, keep being grateful, keep looking to love. And to keep turning to the One who holds it all, and offers me His presence and His peace.

I’m not sure what happened today, but the older children all got up before I called them, and were ready to work before I asked them. This has never happened! Definitely a moment to celebrate.

Obviously not so with the younger ones, who required a bit more cajoling to get involved with all the exciting work before them. Maddie and Theo seem to have allergies to writing, which I understand but it seems we can’t avoid it entirely. So I promised a ‘really fun game!’ if we did this one little piece.

Maddie was persuaded, and produced a fact file on magpies which she was so proud of, she took it to show the chicks. They cheeped loudly, which seemed enthusiastic enough.

Theo seems to have developed a love of lists, a boy after my own heart. So ticking items off the I Spy sheet won him over. And Micah – well, if you give the boy food he’ll do anything. Although counting with Cheerios could prove to be messy maths, and might not help his addition. He’ll be a whizz at subtracting though.

Having got the ‘it’s so boring’ work out of the way, we got the ‘Pebble Plop’ game going. Apparently it’s meant to teach them listening skills, turn taking, and motor skills. My children mostly learned not to get in the way when Micah’s throwing stones. He throws hard, fast, and very accurately. A life lesson indeed.

Pebble throwing antics done, Theo insisted on his climbing frame being turned into a pirate ship today, complete with the resident shark.

Liam has been busy with project summer house this week since he’s been able to source materials, so Maddie and Micah brought out the toy tool box and started roofing the climbing frame.

Micah took the job seriously, stripping off his t shirt as any good builder would, and chopping wood with his circular saw.

The chicks continue to be subjected to frequent cuddles, and generally provide a good source of entertainment. Theo’s nursery teacher rang today, and we ended up chatting more about the chicks than the children. She wanted advice on how to know if one of hers is a cockerel. I have absolutely know knowledge whatsoever, but suggested when he gets big enough to crow she might know?! I’m sure she appreciated my wisdom on the matter.

I’ve actually been on a bit of a low on the Corona coaster today. Early this morning I read the Welsh Government traffic light document regarding thoughts on return to ‘normal’ life, and, honestly, it made me really sad. The thought that even on the green level it still suggested social distancing would be required just made me miserable. The nursery teacher rang to talk about Micah starting nursery, and I couldn’t just ‘take one day at a time’, I had to imagine what September may or may not look like. And suddenly I was fed up of it all. The mess in the house, the people never giving me a moments peace, not seeing other people properly, the uncertainties, the stories of other people’s sadness, job struggles, and loss and grief.

So I got pensive and frustrated and resented interruptions to my thought processes. Which in all honesty, weren’t that positive anyway.

And in the middle of my brooding I was trying to think about the Psalm which ironically I had suggested to my friends that we read before our zoom this evening.

It was Psalm 46, which I quoted the beginning of on here somewhere in the early days of lockdown. But today I looked at it again. And was encouraged. It’s all about an all-powerful God being the refuge in trouble. He provides a source of sustenance and peace even in the middle of chaos. His sovereignty and faithfulness mean there is no need to fear, the world doesn’t have to crumble, even in the craziest of times. He is bigger than I can imagine, closer than I can imagine, stronger and safer than I can imagine.

1 ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.
6 The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts.
7 The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.
8 Come, behold the works of the LORD, how he has brought desolations on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
11 The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.’ – Psalms 46

And right there at the end of the Psalm, it says the words which have popped up for me time and again over these last weeks, which I have framed next to me as I write,

‘Be Still’.

The words God spoke to Moses as the people stood terrified at the edge of the Red Sea, Egyptian Armies behind them, an uncrossable sea in front of them. ‘I will fight for you, you only have to be still.’ ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’

Maybe He’s telling me something? I don’t have to wrestle, He’s got this. I only have to be still, and know that He is God. He hasn’t left us alone to fight in isolation, He’s right here, fighting for us. I don’t have to be moved or shaken. I can be still.