Day 1 of the Easter holidays. I hoped that they would subconsciously understand this concept and have a lie in. At 6:15 I woke, Theo and Micah were fast asleep horizontally across my bed and pushing me out of it. Liam was gone. Megan and Maisie came wandering in with Maddie – you have to understand that at nearly 13 and 14, it is rare to see them before 10 unless physically removed from their beds. Apparently Maddie had been in their room since 5. What was going on?! This was not the morning I had in mind! But hey ho, I thought. At least we don’t have to do Joe Wicks-I’ll do my food shop instead.

Which I did, leaving Liam with the kids, who promptly complained bitterly that they weren’t exercising, despite the fact they’ve complained every day they HAVE exercised, and so he ended up doing it with them anyway. Which I felt smugly happy about.

The shopping experience took me a good ten minutes longer than it should have done, because I got completely lost trying to find the start of the queue somewhere in between the girls shoes and the boys pants. It’s still a strange experience, shopping, isn’t it? A real mixture of mask wearing folk and those who seem completely oblivious to social distancing advice. Combined with a reasonable amount of polite aisle dancing amongst those of us who are aware of the guidelines but still can’t work out how to manage it in real life when I want the pasta and you want the sauce. Either we both dive into the two meter zone or we both back off. It’s like some sort of bee waggle dance. Thankfully the stockpilers seem to be working their way through their supplies, and I can now get hold of not only the 6 pints of milk, but also 3kg bags of pasta which might feed my brood for a meal or two, and even the 16 pack of loo roll. Things are looking up! Sadly not a bag of icing sugar in sight however. It will be a buttercream free Easter.

By the time I’d shopped and unpacked and stopped the kids eating the shopping as I unpacked it, it was lunchtime. Toby was keen on making the recipe for Dinosaur Poo cakes he’d found in a book, so I gave the little ones bubble wands to entertain them in the garden.

This was short lived, sadly, because once Megan had retreated from being their entertainment figure, lured in by the appeal of smashing digestive biscuits, Theo promptly decided his bubbles ‘weren’t working’, and tipped the entire mixture on the floor. Then proceeded to have a meltdown because he wanted more bubble mixture.

At this point they all came back in, but Toby was at a crucial hob lighting stage of baking, so I provided them with junk from the recycling box and craft equipment, and suggested they created a masterpiece.

After much battling over tape and glue, Maddie proudly presented her masterpiece, leaving Theo still chanting, ‘I need help. I need help.’ On repeat. So do I, I thought. And persuaded (bribed) Megan to help him with the castle whilst I finished assisting with the dinosaur poo creations.

She’s a good girl, that Megan. One proud castle owner finally satisfied, she hastily ran away as fast as she could. At which point Micah started the chant. He also wanted a castle. (Of course he did!).

By now the dinosaur poo cakes were setting in the fridge, so I channelled my inner architect and constructed a castle. Except that by this time the hour was drawing near, that time when small blonde haired boys morph into little ogre like beings, and determine to wreak as much havoc as humanly possible. Beginning with the destruction of their younger brother’s castle, because that is bound to bring a satisfying reaction! So in my wisdom and experience, I made the executive decision that it was probably telly time. And wondered again, how on Earth with managed without a TV when Megan and Maisie were small. And why we would have put ourselves through such madness?

You’ll be pleased to know the Dinosaur Poo was delicious, and Toby was very proud of his efforts, and I was glad to have said yes to something that made him happy. Because in all honesty, I’d much rather be a lone baker than an assistant one. But he loves some quality time, this one, and it means a lot to him to have something to show and share for pudding.

Lately Liam and I have been watching a programme on Netflix which pushes the limits of ridiculous amounts of disasters in every episode. It’s cheesy entertainment, and I don’t mind it because it’s so ridiculous.

But I have to admit that the world we’re living in is starting to feel a bit like that, isn’t it? Seeing tonight that our Prime Minister is now in intensive care with Coronavirus feels like we’re teetering on the edge of chaos. Someone on the news pointed out that they hoped it would be a reminder to people who weren’t taking it seriously, ‘that anyone can catch this virus. Even the Prime Minister isn’t exempt.’

Maybe it will make people wake up and think. And maybe it will make a lot of us feel even more anxious. About what is going on, is there any sense to it, who else might catch this virus? This morning I was watching the sparrows again (sadly nothing more exotic is visiting our bird feeder these days. Our neighbours are enticing them which much fancier feeders. It feels like a neighbourly competition. But I digress…). Whilst I was watching the birds on the feeder I thought about these verses from Matthew:

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? – Matthew 6:25-26

For a long time, whenever I read those verses I felt guilty. Because I was anxious. Worried about money and health and homes. And I felt like I shouldn’t be, because these verses told me not to be. But there was one particular situation that nearly tipped me over the edge emotionally, and as I was reading these verses, it dawned on me. Jesus said this because He knows. He knows we’re anxious. He knows we worry. He’s not telling me off, he’s coming like a loving parent, putting His arm around us, and reminding us that we don’t have to be afraid, because He’s got this, and He’s got us. Just like I do, with my anxious little children. When trauma causes them to react to things that feel out of control, their flight/fright/freeze responses triggered, I hold them close, and whisper that ‘Mummy’s here, you’re safe, I’ve got you.’

The birds aren’t worrying about their food-it’s provided for them. And whatever I’m anxious about, I can take to the Father who cares, who hears, who’s got me.

Obviously I’ve taken complete artistic license with that title, because in no way did anyone ‘spring’ into cleaning. There were lie ins (for which I was very grateful, thank you Liam). There were loud complaints at the horrific idea of helping clean. And we ‘visited’ Longleat safari first, which was a good way to spend half an hour. But I couldn’t live in the mess anymore, so we gave them the choice of jobs, and off they went. I think poor Toby chose poorly, it seems we have rather a lot of windows and mirrors in our house. Also choosing Micah as his cleaning buddy means some of the windows are now dirtier than they were before. But it definitely feels better when it smells clean, even if the effects are short lived!

I spent a good hour scraping the hopscotch I made out of masking tape off the floor-it turns out three weeks might be a little too long to leave it there. I actually found it quite therapeutic. And then Liam joined me, flaunting a scraper that was far superior to my cheese knife. It turns out the weirdest things can become a competition in isolation life.

Micah got a bit carried away with the cleaning. Even the grass needed a sweep. Unfortunately he seemed to overdo it, because his mood went somewhat downhill and he spent a large portion of the afternoon in a grump. We tried FaceTiming Grandma and the aunties, but he just looked sadly at Grandma and didn’t want to be cheered up. So I left the phone with Theo and Maddie whilst Micah resorted to biscuits and the horrendous Blippi on Amazon Prime. If you haven’t watched Blippi, then I highly recommend you don’t. He’s like an addictive substance to Micah. So having pacified him, I went back to find Theo and Maddie still chatting to aunties, whilst hanging upside down off the sofa. I’m not sure how successful that particular conversation was, really.

You know you’re peaking in isolation craziness when you actually see unicorns riding across the lawn…

Rapidly joined by a daisy picking superhero.

The Dark Knight then paddled away on more important missions, and was replaced by a lipstick and bow wearing beauty.

The little ones then decided to make a home in the Morrison shelter which was outside on the decking, because it’s massive, and actually of little use in fighting Coronavirus – except in applying fairly safe social distancing rules. Thus began a half an hour (at least) episode of one small person after another coming back and forth demanding blankets, then cushions, then teddies, then drinks, requesting the blanket to be straightened, another pillow because they couldn’t possibly share theirs, not that teddy-the OTHER one, can you take my shoes off, I need my drink filled again…in the end I was sorely tempted to lock the whole lot of them in there and be done. Actually what happened was as soon as everything was exactly as requested, they decided they were very tired and please could they watch telly. Leaving the entire contents of their bedrooms for us to tidy once they were in bed.

Megan and Maisie loved having a zoom with their friend. I thought it was only going to last 40 minutes, but about an hour and a half later they were still on there. It turns out the limit is only for if there are more participants. Once they knew that, they said sadly, ‘oh so she could have stayed with us while we ate dinner! Mum you’re so rude!’ I hereby apologise to their buddy for not inviting her to watch us eat spaghetti bolegnaise through her laptop.

Micah’s mood was hard to lift today. At dinner someone said they had a joke, to which he crossly replied, ‘I’m NOT a joke!’ and dramatically put his head in his hands. He did enjoy a ride with Daddy though, and as hard as it is for Liam to not be working, I’m grateful we have him around. Because this little boy can’t make sense of it all, but he does love a Daddy cuddle.

Liam and I are having friends round on zoom tonight. We’re currently sat on our bed with wine and chocolate ready, normal clothes on top and pyjama bottoms. I think I could get used to this level of preparation for social activities. Although we did have to bring our own drinks to this party.

It’s Sunday tomorrow (in case you’ve lost track of the days). I still feel sad that we can’t go and meet with our church family, I especially miss singing together. But I love that we’re still connected with one another virtually, that tomorrow the kids can all learn the same story, and we can hear our pastor speak on some of my favourite verses. It isn’t the same, as none of these things are. Making my own curry isn’t the same as a takeaway. Watching Joseph online doesn’t have the atmosphere of the theatre. And FaceTime with friends and family isn’t the same as real chats – and nothing can replace a real hug. But these are tastes of the real thing, and somehow they bring an extra dose of joy when they feel like an unexpected treat.

It’s now much later and we’ve finished our night with friends, which was full of ridiculousness and laughing, and was so good to do. And it reminded me again of how much I have to be grateful for. In all the uncertainty, we are here and safe. We are sheltering, and there is joy to be found in it. Psalm 63 says ‘for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.’ The psalmist had fled danger and run into the wilderness to hide, and there he found reasons to be joyful, thanking God for His protection even in a time of danger. I want to spend these days more aware of my blessings than the challenges. Looking for ways to love others rather than complaining about what I’m lacking. Being grateful for each day gifted to me instead of being fearful of what danger lies outside. Praying for those who are struggling, instead of worrying about what the future holds. Holding onto hope, sheltering in the shadow of God’s wings of love, and choosing joy.

We started out fairly motivated today-not for PE, that was a definite struggle. But the work was flying along. I saw this idea of using our little wooden Grapat pieces to do sweet shop maths, so thought we’d give it a go. It was a great success! Theo loved it, Micah gave it a good go, and we upped the maths level for Maddie. One activity fits all! Except for my oversight – I wasn’t aware that the purple pieces were actually Theo’s dragon eggs, and therefore he was extremely reluctant to allow them to be a part of the game. Once he’d had his go they were smuggled back into his Backpack of Important Special Objects and no doubt they will be never be seen again.

I invested in some pretty educational posters from an independent artist called Wonder and Rah. They are primarily to help me and Liam. Our brains are a bit tired with all this learning we’re doing.

Maddie and Theo had big news today. Lots of babies were being grown and delivered. Maddie was overheard explaining to Theo that ‘the babies will come out and then they’ll sew my belly back up.’ Clearly too posh to push.

It was a fairly uneventful Friday-not that there’s many big events to happen these days! I had some good catch ups with family and friends, including a FaceTime with mum where we couldn’t see her face. Micah was fed up this afternoon, so I offered him to talk to Grandma, at which he buried his face in his hands and said ‘not in the phone! At her house!’ Missing people is hard. Especially when you’re three and have absolutely no idea why we can’t go to Grandma’s house and why gymnastics is STILL closed. He had a bit of a meltdown in the afternoon, so he and Liam went for a walk and sent me a picture. I’m think it did them both good.

One of the things that is really brightening this whole isolation thing for me is seeing people from all walks of life using their talents and skills and sharing them with the world online. People all isolated but coming together as a worldwide community. The fact that we could have a whole day’s timetable of educational programmes from PE to maths with Carol Vorderman. Come to think of it, why haven’t we just sat them in front of the TV and flicked between these people?! Perhaps a plan for after the holidays…

Today I absolutely loved watching the entire Phantom of the Opera’s orchestral performance alongside Andrew Lloyd Webber playing the piano. All playing from their own homes, but so beautiful. I probably watched it five times. And nearly cried every time.

And then there was the sheer excitement when I heard Universal are playing a full length musical every Friday! We were there, the entire family ready for Joseph. The younger one’s musical theatre education about to start, which is really the only education they need, isn’t it?

There were a few issues with the on duty firefighter who insisted on standing right in front of the tv and blocking two of his sister’s views. He insisted he was ‘on a mission’, and could not be moved.

Maddie told me at bedtime that she wants to be three things when she grows up, a teacher, a horse rider, and an actor in a show. She’s going to ride horses on Saturdays, act in the shows on Sundays, and teach for the rest of the week. I wish I was so confident in what I’ll do when I grow up.

As challenging as these long days are, I’m finding we are settling into it somehow. And in a way I’m grateful for this cocooning time. Yes the kids miss normality and friends and activities, but they are (mostly) enjoying each other’s company in a way maybe we don’t get to see often. Now they have only each other for entertainment, they are (sometimes) appreciating each other more. For the more socially anxious ones, it’s a relief to be in their safe place without the exhaustion of school. For the older two girls, it feels like a special and unexpected chance to hang out with them in early teenage days, and they have no choice but to hang out with us! Don’t get me wrong, there are a high number of arguments and irritations. Tonight it’s mostly me, by 10 o clock I couldn’t bear being crowded or nagged any more. They’ve never had such an efficient good night. Which of course, was Toby’s prime opportunity to come out with some completely obscure scientific wondering. ‘If we can see water but not air, can fish only see air and not water?’ What?! Do they have a book of The Most Ridiculous Questions to Ask Your Parents at Bedtime, with a sequel of Even More Ridiculous Questions to Ask When Your Parents Look Really Tired and Are Trying to Get out of Your Bedroom as Quickly as Possible?

Today Liam and Toby finished the Morrison shelter project. Liam is keen on setting off an air raid siren in the middle of the night and getting him to sleep in it for the rest of the night. Personally I fear that may screw him up so much that Liam will have to sleep in his bedroom for the next five years to undo the damage, but I’m leaving that decision up to him. I’ll keep you posted on how that one pans out.

There were a few things playing on my mind today – how will the Easter holidays look without school work? The days already feel long, how will we fill those days? We have some little medical niggles cropping up with one of the kids and it’s a strange time to know what to do about those, isn’t it? No one wants to bother the already stretched health service. I’m fairly decisive when it comes to the obvious emergency situations, but the ones that are just not quite right are harder to triage in my mind in these days. So they niggle at me. But I read Psalm 16 this morning, and this little verse stuck with me all day –

I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. – Psalm 16:8

It’s short, but it calmed my soul. It doesn’t directly answer my questions, but it reminds me that God is with me. The One who knew me before I existed, who loved me enough to send His Son for me, is walking with me through the big things and the small things. I’ve experienced that in the good and the really hard, and so I hold onto it now. For the big things and the small things, because He is with me, I don’t need to be shaken.

But I do need to go to bed, so I’ll leave you there. Have a safe Saturday. Xx

We’ve got our morning routine pretty sussed now. I get up, put the telly on for small people, make my tea and hide in my kitchen corner to read and wake up. Once I’ve come round, we get breakfast and then it’s half an hour of torture with Joe Wicks. PE, I mean, obviously. During which the kids shout their names incessantly, waiting for their shout out, which will never happen because I have no intention of saying our names and city to 800,000 people on YouTube. Also (and the real reason) because I have absolutely no idea what my password for YouTube is, and therefore will never be able to comment. They’ll probably hold it against me until adulthood, but I’ll just have to live with that.

Then it’s school time, except to make space for school we have to do a major clear of the breakfast dishes, sweep a mountain of coco pops off the table, along with half a ton of kinetic sand which the younger kids played with because they are too wise to give in to the Joe Wicks peer pressure. Today as they were getting their school bits ready Micah settled himself next to Toby, who supplied him with headphones and perhaps did more DJ action than maths. Hopefully Toby’s knowledge of pre-school entertainers such as The Wiggles and Bob the Builder will help him go far in life.

Anyway, much to his dismay, I informed Toby that today was the day. The hair needed some attention. Armed with clippers and Alexa for entertainment I opened my hair salon in the kitchen. If Lindsey our lovely hairdresser is reading this, I’m really sorry. I know the 9 minute YouTube video tutorial is absolutely not the same as your qualifications and experience and I’m sorry for what you’ll have to repair once isolation is over.

I’m an all or nothing kind of girl, so once I started, it was hard to stop…

…and I just kept pouncing on them and snipping away…

…and in the end I did all six of them. We could have made a wig with the carnage left in the kitchen.

Hopefully it’ll have grown before we see people in real life. At least I didn’t use a bowl.

Mr Lurker has been busy in the garage again. I don’t think there’s a tv in there, as I’m actually hearing worky types of noises, and even seeing some structures being produced. The welly rack I requested several houses ago may be a dream becoming reality! And Toby’s WW2 Morrison shelter is nearly ready for him to sleep in I’m told. As long as he’s washed his hands he should be safe from anything in there.

Toby AKA Tony, the baby, or Toblerone, or Tobias Decimus Maximus, has been a bit sad of late. He genuinely loves school. He loves learning, and he’s a real socialiser. At home he’s the one in the middle – two older teen sisters, three younger siblings, and he’s missing his crowd of 10 year old boys who get his quirky humour and actually understand Pokemon language. So he was very happy to have a Zoom with one of his buddies. To me, I couldn’t hear any word of actual conversation, but there was a lot of laughter, and that was good to hear.

Micah’s coming out with a lot of interesting dialogue these days. It can be something as sweet as the very lovely ‘cleaning is perfect’ song he made up this morning. How proud I was. What a little angel! But that same cute little blonde boy at dinner time challenged Toby to a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, and immediately said, ‘I’m Rock-I’m going to smash your head and win.’ I despair. I can’t even blame nursery because he hasn’t started yet.

It was an all girl after dinner walk tonight. In which Megan told jokes, Maisie insulted Megan (‘without me you wouldn’t even have friends!’), and Maddie made the point of doing the opposite of everything I said, but if her hero Megan asked her to jump, she’d flutter her eyelids and ask ‘how high Meggy?’ I love these kids. Which is good really, given that we’re in such close proximity these days.

I didn’t have any great revelations today, but lots of questions running through my head. About what things will look like in a few weeks, months. About the safety of my family on the frontline. About the whys and the how longs and all the other stuff. Some of it not even remotely related to the C Virus.

I don’t have any answers, but I do have hope. So I turned to the lyrics of a hymn that I’ve sung through tears, through clenched teeth, in trouble and in happiness. And if I don’t have much faith at the start of it, the promises in it lift my spirit and my eyes upwards, to where I find hope.

‘In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid Ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! – who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe.
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sins curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand
Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.’

Someone the other day said that the days were going really fast. I think they’re in a different time zone to me. It’s not that today was bad, but the days definitely do feel veeeerrryyy long. It’s not that they’re boring, although there are definitely times when it feels like Groundhog Day. Toby still asks me every night, ‘what are we doing tomorrow?’ I think in the desperate hope that I’ll find something more interesting than ‘staying at home!’ But maybe the feeling of a day lasting 40 hours is simply because I’m not getting 6 children out of the house by 8:15, doing 5 school drop offs and pick ups, and then all the after school/evening running around. And for that, I’m grateful.

Schooling went better today-Auntie Estie’s Pokemon maths lesson worksheet went down a treat with Toby, and definitely saved me from the swing dance lesson, so I owe her big time when we’re allowed to see each other again. And I finally found some activities that inspired my little reluctant student.

I was particularly chuffed with this one. I decided to channel his water pistol obsession and turn it into a learning opportunity. Spray the letters of your name. Spray the numbers in the right order. What’s one add two? Spray the answer!

It all went well until they turned the pistols on me and I had to make a hasty retreat into the house.

Other than that, it was a peaceful day here really. I was supplied with baking goods so I put them to use and basically faffed in the kitchen for most of the afternoon.

I was thinking today that it can seem quite trivial when I write about my days sometimes, knowing that for other people there are much greater challenges to this time than we in our home are facing right now. And I never want my lighthearted take on our days to minimise the hard stuff that I know people are coming up against. I find it helps me to look for the bright spots and the hope amongst the very real losses or fear of loss that many of us are facing, and I’m grateful for all of you who’ve said you enjoy reading my daily ramblings! I just want you to know that whatever you might be going through, juggling work and childcare, financial loss, plans cancelled, grief, loneliness – I haven’t forgotten you, and I’m praying for you in your dark moments.

I read one of my favourite bits in Isaiah this morning, verses I’ve held onto in some of my lowest moments, so I hope they encourage you too.

1 But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
3 For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in exchange for you.
4 Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you. Isaiah 43:1-4

I was woken by the PJ Masks Heroes. ‘Into the Night to save the day’. Or actually on this occasion, ‘disturbing your night to make you start the day.’ It seems they’ve branched out and now have superhero zoo animals.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I find Tuesdays hard. Pre-isolation, they were always the slightly mundane day, not feeling as motivated as on a Monday, too much of the week still to come. And for some reason today felt harder too. Which is ridiculous, because every day is essentially the same these days!

It could in part have been due to the schooling challenges today. We had tears from a big kid, someone else requiring help for every activity, whilst a small one is on the verge of exclusion from this particular school. I was feeling the pressure of making sure they’re all doing as much as they should – conscious that the older ones could easily be conning me into believing they’ve done maths but in reality built a city on Minecraft. I desperately messaged Auntie Estie for her teaching expertise – I need good old fashioned worksheets they can do themselves! We’ve had it with building WW2 shelters, being taught how to swing dance, and now he’s used the last of my sugar on a water density rainbow experiment which actually just made a murky green potion and rainbow puddles all over my worktop! And then there’s the messages from Nursery and Year 1 teachers, congratulating everyone on all the amazing pictures and videos they’ve sent. We have attempted educational activities every day, but it’s taken me 15 days to work out how to send the teacher a message with proof.

It’s just exhausting at times isn’t it? I can start the day ready to go, but if the kids are all over the place it’s an emotional juggle of balancing being motivational and encouraging and understanding when at the end of the day we’re all missing normality and are fed up of the same four walls. And they’re missing having teachers who knew what they were talking about.

At least one child renders us speechless on a day to day basis. Megan was interviewing Maddie as she was preparing a presentation on adoption. ‘What is adoption like Maddie?’ To which our lovely daughter responded with, ‘it messes you up.’ Not entirely sure what to do with that, we had a fit of nervous giggles, as she finished with, ‘I can’t even do my own seatbelt!’

I gave up on teaching at that point, sat them all in front of YouTube for a science lesson, and hid in the bedroom. Where I was entertained by watching a portly neighbour who as far as I’m aware isn’t a regular exerciser, marching at high speed around his garden, doing laps whilst wearing headphones. Couch to 5K? I wondered. It all became clear when I was hanging out the washing and heard his wife calling him then come outside to find him. ‘Were you calling me? I can’t hear anything with these on’. I suspect the garden marathon is purely an excuse to get away from his spouse.

But the afternoon was brighter, and there are always moments to be grateful for. The little ones were entertained with a den under the table, whilst Megan and Maisie used up all the Cheerios no one wants to eat by making Crispy cakes. Toby and I went for a walk, him loving the attention, and me enjoying the breathing space.

We ran up and down the driveway with giant bubbles, and then received a surprise zero waste food parcel from a secret doner. Whoever you are, thank you so much! Kindness means so much at any time, but especially in these days where emotions are wobbly and anxiety comes easily. And it even contained the elusive flour for my baking therapy needs!

I loved these words when I read them this morning.

1 Incline your ear, O LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.
2 Preserve my life, for I am godly; save your servant, who trusts in you-you are my God.
3 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for to you do I cry all the day.
4 Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.
5 For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.
6 Give ear, O LORD, to my prayer; listen to my plea for grace.
7 In the day of my trouble I call upon you, for you answer me. – Psalm 86:1-7

I felt needy today. In need of more patience, more energy, more peace. I’m grateful that He knew that. He gladdened my soul with the peaceful river and family giggles and unexpected gifts. He kept us safe again today. And tomorrow, when there’ll be highs and lows again no doubt, I know that He’ll hear me again, and show us His kindness and grace once again.

Micah had a temperature 3 weeks ago, back when an ill person should self isolate for 7 days. So everyone else carried on with school and work, and I kept him at home. On day 8, Megan and Maddie got ill. Except that now meant the whole family isolating for 14 days. And now we’re here, at the 14 days, and the whole country is isolated anyway. So we’ve reached our freedom to…go to the supermarket! Which was actually not the terrible experience I was expecting, but it was a bit surreal and eerie. It was very quiet. There were lots of awkward moments of doing a social distancing dance with the staff doing shelf picking. Some people wore masks and stayed well away, one lady had no inclination of worrying about the 2 metres and I couldn’t shake her off. I thought about coughing but was afraid of being escorted out by security. I made an effort to smile at people, and to chat to the cashier behind the screen. Especially as she was nice enough not to question my full trolley and accuse me of stockpiling. The problem was all those kids I stockpiled. They keep wanting to eat.

Anyhow I raised some smiles by bringing home the things they’d sneaked onto my shopping list. Cool Doritos for Toby, Mug shots for Maisie, and a watermelon for Megan. I bet Liam wishes I was that easily pleased. My shopping list for the end of isolation involves a holiday, weekend away with my mum and sisters, and a repeat of Mother’s Day, Easter, and every other festivity we’re going to miss. Not too much to ask, surely?

I think Theo was really excited about the school work I gave him today. I sense enthusiasm and dedication beaming out of this piece.

The little ones found great entertainment in wearing other people’s wellies and marching around the garden singing a song about…wearing other people’s wellies.

It occurred to Liam and I that we’d forgotten to bury Kiwi, and she was still tucked up in the garage. Whoops. So we called the children for a little moment, where we shared memories. Of her sweet little face. The fact that Liam always called her Hammie. And the way she ferociously bit anyone who came near her. They seemed satisfied with the service, and went their separate ways. 5 minutes later, whilst we were still comforting Maddie, an angry Micah appeared to tell tales on Theo, who wouldn’t let him on the trampoline, ‘and is being really mean. AND, Theo killed Kiwi!’

It was really really hard not to laugh. Actually Liam did. A lot. We *think* this was just an extreme effort to get his brother in trouble, however so far we don’t know if Theo’s alibi of ‘no I didn’t! I was in Maddie’s bed!’ is actually true and will stand up in a court of law.

Today is my Dad’s 73rd birthday, so it called for another Zoom session with various family members, to sing and watch him open his present. It’s definitely not the same, but I am so grateful for technology that means we can still sing happy birthday badly and all talk over each other. I love my dad. And if staying at home keeps him and all the other dads like him safe, then as much as I miss family hugs, I’m ok with it.

Today was a peaceful day here. Obviously there were moments, as there always are, but I started the day reading Isaiah 41, which says in it, ‘You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off. Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’ And I felt upheld. And even if tomorrow is fraught and we’re fed up of each other and I’m afraid or sad, I know we’ll still be upheld.

I started the morning by checking the time, obviously. Then going and checking the other clocks, because I never quite trust the witchcraft that is the automatic time change. After that I moved around the kitchen, wondering again how to change the time on the oven and the microwave, wondering why they can’t automatically change too, and questioning again why we even do this bi-annual ritual. Megan and Maisie were asking me about it at bedtime last night. I didn’t have great wisdom on the topic, except to tell them that if they ever work shifts, it is of great importance that they offer to work the spring clock change, and on no account should they ever request to do the autumn one. Because I did it back in my midwifery days, and you feel like you’re going to die. We then had a conversation about how you write the time change, and Megan, who likes to ask the quirky questions, said, ‘so if you had twins and one was born at 1:59 old time, then the clocks went back and the other was born at 1:00, which one would be older?’ At which I laughed and cried and wondered when they’re going back to school, because clearly educating at home isn’t doing us any favours.

After the clock changing fiasco I made pancakes, mostly because I actually had the right ingredients, which after two weeks of not doing my own shopping was fairly surprising. I waited half an hour to get dressed because there was so many people in my bedroom and bathroom. In the end I told the small ones who were finding it hilarious to give me no personal space at all, that I was just going to go and wait in Micah’s bed until they all left my room. And I did.

After a little bit of persuasion of family members, we had a version of church at home, starting by each choosing songs on YouTube, whilst Micah played every instrument he could find.

After lunch we went for our one allowed local walk, which was fairly quiet – except for us. And the hat trick of three small children all managing to go flying at different points. It seems they couldn’t work out how to walk on dry stony paths, having spent the last six months wading through muddy puddles.

I read this paraphrase of a Psalm this morning:

“You’ve kept track of all my wandering and my weeping. You’ve stored my many tears in your bottle—not one will be lost. For they are all recorded in your book of remembrance. The very moment I call to you for a father’s help the tide of battle turns and my enemies flee. This one thing I know: God is on my side!

What harm could man do to me? With God on my side I will not be afraid of what comes. My heart overflows with praise to God and for his promises. I will always trust in him.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭56:8-9, 11‬ ‭TPT‬‬

I was conscious today of being uneasy and anxious, and I wondered what it is, exactly, I’m afraid of? Probably for all of us during these strange days there are different aspects and elements on different days. For the man at the river wearing a mask, clearly the fear of illness was impacting how he felt about his daily walk. Perhaps he had health needs that make him vulnerable, perhaps illness just makes him anxious. Maybe it’s the financial impact of all this. We don’t really know what our finances will look like in the next few months and after that. And that is easily able to cause fear and uncertainty. Perhaps it’s how to manage working from home and educating your children. Or managing lots of different needs all day every day.

But for me, today, it wasn’t any of those bigger issues. It was the impact of isolation on relationships. You see, I’ve never been overly confident in friendships. I tend to have a few closer friends, rather than being a social butterfly. Over the years I’ve had to learn to push myself, to want to care for others who might feel the same by being honest and vulnerable and reaching out, and hopefully giving them the confidence to do it too. To risk rejection in order to gain community and fellowship. But still I sometimes struggle when I don’t see people regularly, to know where that puts our friendship. And as we all know, social media can cause a whole heap of identity insecurities.

Over the last few years I’ve become more confident in who I am, in worrying less about whether I’ve been misunderstood or downright annoying. I believe I’ve been created to be me, with my own gifts and flaws, and that I’m called to focus on who I can love instead of whether anyone loves me. I’ll brave writing a blog and leaving it there, instead of trying to over analyse whether it sounded silly or who didn’t like it. I actually have a lot of positive things to say about social media, but that’s a whole other discussion.

But this social distancing can flag up all those deeper insecurities can’t it? If we’re not seeing people, and our contact is all done virtually, it can become a mind game. If someone leaves a WhatsApp group, or it seems that someone else is on Zoom groups every night. Or if you messaged someone and they don’t reply for four days. Or you shared a meme and no one gave you a laugh emoji. Or if we start wondering if we’ll still be friends in real life after 3 months of being socially distanced. I’m aware that these thoughts are irrational, needy even, driven by the desire to be accepted and loved.

Those words from the Psalm I read were a reminder to me today that I don’t need to be afraid. I am heard, I am known, I am comforted, I am accepted, I am loved. God is on my side, here when I call, and He is trustworthy. He knows my needs, sees my fears, and doesn’t call me needy or insecure, but reminds me that He will never leave me. And whatever fears arise tomorrow, He wants me to hand them over to Him too. He loves me with a Father’s heart. And He loves you, too.

This isn’t just because I felt the need to have a picture of a teeny baby on this post, although pictures of teeny babies do always make me happy. But it occurred to me earlier today that it’s the 3 year anniversary of moving into our home. Which is when this picture was taken.

Just over 3 years ago we knew Micah was due to be born, but the condition that he could come home to be with us was that we had to move house. As many of you will know, on his due date we had a phone call to say that was the situation, and that very day this house came up to let. We viewed it on the Monday, put the deposit down on the Tuesday morning, and by the evening a newborn Micah was home with us. So 3 years ago today, when he was a few weeks old, we found ourselves moving house for the 5th time in 8 years.

And we were so grateful. For the answer to prayer. For the space. For the garden and the river and the safety, and for the provision at the very moment we needed it, to keep our little ones together.

Fast forward to last summer, 2 and a bit years later, and I started to lose sight of all the good things about our home, and all the reasons why it was a gift. I was frustrated with renting and the problems it brings. Envious of people who could buy a home and decorate it how they wanted. Ashamed of being nearly 40 and still not being in a ‘stable’ position. I wrestled with it and sulked and told God and good friends my frustrations and asked for contentment and a thankful heart.

Over the last few weeks I’ve kept thinking about families in flats, in the middle of cities, who are spending these weeks struggling for space and freedom. And today I looked out at my garden, and was reminded again just why I should remain thankful that 3 years ago we were given this home. Far bigger than the one we’d come from, and just when we needed it. And why I can be thankful that we are still here. We are isolated yes, but we are not confined. We are lucky to have lots of rooms and a garden and to look out on a river, and to have a sense of space and freedom. If nothing else, I hope I’ve gained a fresh perspective in these weeks, and am not so quick to complain.

Other than that reflective moment of the morning, I can’t honestly say I did a lot today. I was cold and tired and felt more like hibernating than I have done so far. I dug out some classic piano music, channelled my inner teenager, and played an iconic isolation tune, ‘On My Own…’.

Liam and I stood in the kitchen and watched a video of the sea, and pretended we’d been on a day trip back to Cornwall.

I finished a blanket for a special little girl, which I was asked to do quite some time ago. Nothing like a bit of quarantine to push you into finishing all the projects.

We had to say a sad goodbye to Kiwi, who had lived to the ripe old age of almost 2 years. The kids were appropriately sad. Maisie, who is a tough cookie and prides herself in not crying, was very emotional, and informed me it’s because she likes the animals more than the people at home. I think this nearly 13 year old is enjoying having so much family time. After about 10 minutes they all perked up and starting asking for a puppy. Oh how I laughed.

I came across this and wondered, if this was me on day 3, what hope is there for me on day 12? Thankfully friends have understood my basic needs and kept me stocked up in wine. I hear off licences are actually classed as an essential store now. It’s a funny old world out there.

Liam (who is feeling a bit better today) took two of the boys off for a walk where they enjoyed being chased by sheep, and I feel like I’ve actually stopped, for the first time in a while. And I was grateful for these verses, reminding me of God’s grace and understanding in my bad days and grumpy days, and how gently and kindly He knows and cares for me.

11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
13 As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
14 For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust. – Psalm 103:11-14