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.

I didn’t sleep well last night, and I woke early this morning, before the kids. The reason? I couldn’t hear the chicks. I was questioning if the light was too hot, too cold, too low, too high. If they’d fallen in the water or pecked each other’s heads in. Yes, it turns out my maternal instincts are still strong and I still have an overwhelming need to care for all the babies. Even the ones with beaks and feathers. I think Liam thinks I’m losing the plot. He may be right. Anyway the good news is the chicks were absolutely fine. All three nuts present and correct. (Although coconut may not technically be a nut. I believe it’s a fruit. But for the purposes of the trio, it counts).

This was my view queuing for the supermarket this morning, an already glorious day weather wise. The shopping trip took me all morning, but to be honest, I quite enjoyed the few hours of no one saying my name! Theo is getting increasingly upset when I leave for the shops, and this time I couldn’t even bribe him with a treat. Until I was halfway around the shop, when Megan called me to say he was happier now and had decided he’d like a notebook please.

Aside from all the requests for Maisie’s upcoming birthday, this week’s wishlist from the family included: honey roast peanuts, Extra Bubblemint chewing gum, Cream Soda, Squashies drumstick sweets, and of course, Theo’s notebook. Micah is still naive enough to be delighted with the smallest item from the sweet aisle. Long may it last.

Once I’d returned from the shop, unpacked all the food, dished out the items requested, and we’d eaten lunch, we decided to do another of Maddie’s magpie themed crafts. Today the plan was to collect shiny objects and create a collage. Of course, the boys wanted to get in on the act, so we dug out the recycling box, I sacrificially ate a few Quality Street in the name of art, and we set to work.

I suspected we were heading for a lockdown low, but my fears were realised when I said yes to glitter. I’m not the person I used to be. And, honestly, I’m disappointed in myself. I hate glitter. A stronger me would never have given in, but clearly I’m worn down and weak. It did of course made the collages super shiny and satisfyingly sparkly, but it’s everywhere. I even found it in my tea.

Never again. No matter how persuasive they are.

Or not until I forget the mess and remember how happy they were for some brief minutes, and I weaken again.

This moment is a still from a Mamma Mia TikTok performance which kept all six children entertained for a good hour this afternoon. Costume design, location surveying, auditions, and shooting. They did it all. I have my sisters to thank for their special version of the same song, the inspiration behind the children’s clip. Given the relative peace it gave us this afternoon, perhaps we could have more ideas for them to copy?!

The chicks still proved entertaining on day two, which is a relief. There were strong objections to the fact that I made chicken curry for dinner, however. It was deemed insensitive and cruel and might upset the three birds. They didn’t seem to mind. I made hot dogs as an alternative for those with moral objections. But I pointed out that if we got a puppy they wouldn’t be able to eat those any more either. Which got me an eye roll from the teens, and a slightly concerned, ‘hot dogs aren’t dog though…are they?’ from the younger ones.

I had a call from Maddie and Theo’s school today, seeing how we’re doing and how they are. And talking about transitions into reception and year 2. And in all honesty, it makes me feel anxious. Theo can barely let me leave the house right now, even when he’s safely home with his whole family, so the thought of him settling into school seems daunting to say the least. And then there’s each one of the older ones to settle back too, with varying fears, challenges, and pressures. As tough as these days can be, there’s something reassuring about having the children here – all my chicks in the nest.

As foster carers, we spent a lot of time learning about transitions and endings, how important they are, and how to do them well. We spent a lot of planning and energy supporting Maddie’s transition into school, and Theo’s into nursery, and in doing all we could to manage them well. And yet with Coronavirus, everything stopped with no warning. And there is no clear idea of how it will re-start. There was no way to manage the ending well, and no way to plan for a smooth way back into school life.

But I don’t have to know right now. Yes, I’ll advocate for them. Yes, I told the deputy head my concerns. Yes, I’ll be creative and hopefully wise in managing what is ahead. But my hope isn’t in how well I prepare them, or in what the government do or don’t do, but in the belief that God cares about my children. He created them, He knows them better than I do. He’s been with them every step of the way. I feel like the mother hen, trying to protect them all, but His love, and His care far surpasses mine. So I’ll wait, I’ll trust, and I’ll pray. And I’ll keep giving out ice creams and cuddles and watching TikToks.

‘How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.’ – Psalm 36:7

Liam left on his mission to collect our new family members this morning, which meant I attempted to do some schoolwork with the children whilst he was gone. If either parent leaves the house these days, it creates high levels of drama purely from the rarity of it. When I go shopping it requires several rounds of hugs and kisses and ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ll miss you’ and ‘please don’t be a long time.’ So the fact that Liam was going on a far more exciting errand made the hyper levels go through the roof.

Maddie had a story to listen to, so I decided the best option was to increase my class size and read it to all three of them. The boys then played Bingo using ladybird spots, and Maddie made her way through a wordsearch.

Fortunately we finished a few tasks before Liam walked back in, because there was no way much work was happening once these three girls arrived in the house.

Introducing Coconut, Hazlenut, and Peanut, three very freshly hatched Cream Legbar chicks. Peanut was by far the newest, still trying to fluff up her down and very sleepy when she arrived.

Obviously they provided an awful lot of entertainment, and after a brief initial cuddle from each child we put them safely in their cage to warm up under the lamp.

And children intermittently came and stationed themselves to observe the proceedings. It’s been decided already that Coconut is attempting to be the big boss, with Peanut Butter, as Micah is calling her, being the often picked on smallest sibling, who every now and then jumps up and shouts about it, and Hazlenut looks aloof and disinterested. Occasionally they just look like little drunk old ladies, standing swaying, falling over nothing, and having a snooze in their dinner dish.

After lunch we gave the chicks some peace, and went outside to build a magpie nest following the instructions from Maddie’s story. After a few complaints that it was too hard, we got stuck in with making a mud bowl, hunting down twigs, lining it with soft leaves, and putting a little rock family in it.

Of course, once the boys got wind of some squelchy mud play going on, they were straight in joining in the fun and making nests of their own.

After dinner I suggested we do a short local walk as the kids hadn’t been out for a couple of days. I should have known that it wasn’t going to be a smooth one, given the fact one child had already been tripped up and knocked over a plant pot before we left the driveway. We then had another fall as three kids attempted to scuttle out of the way of some walkers but one tripped up, followed by a teenager/parental dispute, and then another child falling on top of a smaller one, leaving one with a hurt ankle and the other with a bumped head and mouthful of dirt.

Walks are definitely becoming more stressful as the paths get busier. Still, there were a few happy minutes skimming stones in the river before we limped back home and bathed the mud coated younger children.

It’s strange how days can hold so many emotions isn’t it. We went from stressful schooling to endearing excitement to a wearying walk. I know this is normal for any season of life, but I’m finding these days are even more tumultuous than normal. I don’t know quite how I feel one minute to the next. And from talking to other people I don’t think I’m alone.

I’m grateful for so much, but I’m anxious too. I’m soaking up the chance to live slower, but I’m restless. I’m enjoying so much of the chance to have time with Liam and the children, time we’d never have had, but I’m craving space and quiet and order. I long for routine but fear rushing around. I’m frustrated with weeks of waiting, but if I think ahead then I’m easily unsettled.

But I keep holding on to the fact that nothing is wasted. God meets us in any and every moment. The good, the bad, the fearful, the grateful. He’s in the waiting. And He’s in the future. I don’t understand it all. I don’t have the answers to the whys. But I know He is good and I trust His hand.

8 ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.
9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
10 “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
11 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
12 “For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.’ – Isaiah 55:8-12

It’s Monday again already. You could hardly contain the enthusiasm levels in the house. They were heavily disguised by the lack of older children making an appearance before I dragged them out of bed at 9am. The benefit in that was that it gave me a chance to start the younger children’s education with the YouTube clip sent by the nursery teacher, before Toby hijacked the computer. And that in turn gave me a chance to print off Maddie’s work whilst I had five minutes of calm. It’s all a case of strategy when sharing the all important technology.

Theo’s topic this week is mini beasts, so it seemed a good time to dig out the little wooden insects for counting purposes.

Micah was keen to get involved, Theo took a bit more persuasion. But we bribed everyone with an exciting real life mini beast hunt if they could manage a task. Apparently something which would send the older children running in the opposite direction squealing about spiders is still appealing to 3, 4 and 6 year olds.

I had the bright idea today of using foam to help Theo practice forming letters. Note to self-don’t do that again. It was very appealing, but no letters were formed and the children and the bathroom were covered in foam. Still, if you don’t try you don’t know, do you?!

We timed the mini beast hunt to coincide with piano lessons to try and help the noise levels. I felt like I was winning this week by actually setting the zoom lessons up on time. Theo’s nursery work also encouraged the children to start to take photographs. I handed my phone over to Theo, and ended up with several hundred photos of blurry grass and mud shots, myself at unflattering angles, the bbq, and, quite incredibly, an accidental photo of two ladybirds in the tree. Which he didn’t know were there. I’m not sure quite what he took away from the hunt, but at least there’s one picture to send his teacher this week.

Toby was a happy chappy today, a combination of walking to post a letter to his friend, and the arrival of the Avengers jumper he ordered online weeks ago. He’s not happy at my threats to cut his hair again though. It seems he wasn’t that impressed with my barber skills. Harsh, but 10 year old boys are tricky clients it turns out.

Maddie and Micah were thick as thieves today, with horses playing a major role in most of their games. I was hanging washing out on the other side of the garden when they decided to quiz me loudly on the anatomy of equine beasts. ‘Mum, do horses wee standing up?’ ‘Mum, do horses have willies?’ I often wonder how much our neighbours enjoy living next door to us.

I found an alternative and very popular use for the foam tray. Horses riding through snow and being rinsed off in water lasted for a good while giving excellent entertainment value for effort.

A few weeks ago I ordered a ‘Rainbow of Hope’ t shirt as an NHS fundraiser and to mark these strange days. I asked Megan to take a photo, so I could tag the shop who sold it. For the second time today, I handed my phone over to a child, and received it back with one usable photo and 100 selfies. It’s no wonder I have 21,000 photos on my phone. Sorting through those is somewhere on a to do list. For a very quiet day.

There was great excitement over preparations for the imminent arrival of the chicks. According to one child, it was ‘as exciting as when you went to collect Micah’. At which point they nostalgically starting retelling the story of Micah’s arrival. Which was very cute, but it didn’t seem quite right to put baby chick siblings on the same level as their youngest brother! Still, in these long weeks, something new and entertaining is always a bonus. It does look like I’ll be sharing my quiet corner with some not so quiet friends though.

I was chatting to a friend earlier about my mixed feelings I feel at the moment with lockdown. I’m tired of it, definitely. I miss company and freedom. I miss hugs and singing, coffee with friends and children playing together. I miss family gatherings and visiting the beach.

But when a return to a ‘new normal’ is mentioned, I feel apprehensive and anxious too. Maybe because it’s unknown, what it may look like. Maybe because things not being normal might go on for some time. But also because I don’t feel in a hurry to go back to the busyness, the time pressures, the work pressures, the peer pressures. It feels like a delicate balance of wanting some parts of life back, with no desire to rush back into the always rushing life.

This Psalm reminds me tonight that while I’m waiting I can be peaceful, unshaken. The rainbow of hope can be a bridge, shining hope into the lockdown and also arching into a hope-filled future. Because the God of the rainbow promise who hasn’t left me in the past, and is present in my days now, will be reaching forward with me into the future days, bringing hope and His provision and His faithful promise-keeping love.

5 ‘For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.
6 He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
7 On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
8 Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.’ – Psalm 62:5-8

There are definitely some perks to slower Sunday mornings. We enjoyed our croissant and coffee before moving to the lounge for virtual church. This week Maddie especially loved seeing one of her favourite Sunday school teacher’s doing the lesson, but as with all these virtual interactions, they bring mixed feelings with reminders of what you’re missing. So there were lots of cuddles through it too.

The story was about God’s love being a free gift to us, and the craft was to make something to give or send to a friend. So they busily set about doing it, Maddie choosing two friends but then getting too ‘tired’ (meaning too emotionally worn out) to finish them both.

Theo busily started one for his friend which he then gave to Micah. So he did another for his friend but liked that one too much to give away. So on the third one I wrote his friend’s name first, just to ensure we were clear about the intended recipient.

Micah, Maisie, and Megan busily drew a picture for Grandma, who we later had to FaceTime to show her before he was willing to go to bed.

And Toby took his t shirt off to copy the logo for a card to send to his friend.

After lunch I decided to use up the chocolate oranges we still had lurking from Christmas, along with the orange smartie eggs from Easter, and make a cheesecake. I enjoyed watching a bit more of the conference I’d missed whilst whipping and stirring in the kitchen, and the kids played outside.

The children are still very much enthralled with burying their feet in sand, although the swing seats are a mixed blessing in the garden. They provide a lot of happiness in soothing troubled minds and bodies, but we could do with six really, given the number of arguments over who’s been in there for ages and who feels hard done by in the shortness of their turn.

The old orbeez beads had also proven popular but there weren’t many left, so I ordered some more which arrived today. These water beads arrived in a tiny pot but had to be soaked in water to do their job. This turned out to be a benefit to the process, as the little ones spent a lot of the day running back and forth checking on the growth of the beads in the tray.

Once the Cheesecake was completed, I joined the kids in the garden whilst they pottered around, and I attempted multitasking crochet and starting a new book at the same time, whilst dodging the leaves and bugs that were falling on me from the tree I’d sat myself under. Liam opted for the fall asleep in the hammock version of Sunday afternoon rest.

I spent a lot of today pensively pondering different things on my mind. Not stressed, but thoughtful and the kind of day where I dream of sitting with endless cups of tea and books and journals and soaking it all in. But right now that isn’t where I’m at, and I’m still learning to find ways to find soul stillness in the busyness. To find rest in the moments of teaching my six year old to cross stitch because she needs the reassurance of me being next to her. To find joy in the 10pm enthusiasm over watching a programme with the older kids because they really want us to sit down with them and laugh at the bits they find funny. To find peace in peeling vegetables and melting chocolate for a Sunday dinner.

Today I found hope in the reminder from the kids Sunday school lesson, in our noisy lounge, played over the computer. The reminder that:

‘No matter how clever you are, or how good you are, or how important you are – none of it makes any difference. Because God’s love is a gift, and as anyone will tell you, the whole thing about a gift is, it’s free. All you have to do is reach out your hands and take it.’ (Jesus Storybook Bible, S Lloyd Jones)

Alongside that story was the line of a song playing over in my head:

‘Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine,
And I couldn’t earn it, I don’t deserve it, still, You give Yourself away.’ (Bethel music)

God pours out Himself and His love as a free gift to me. That’s where I can find the rest and the strength to keep loving and pouring myself out to those I’ve been given. All I have to do is reach out my hands, my mind, my soul, and accept the gift.