Master D wakes us up multiple times in the night. We are so over it. I cannot wait until school goes back, as his body will be knackered from playing and running around all day. We do what we can to keep him occupied and active at home, but we can’t provide the level of interaction he gets from his classmates.
Trying to get him to do schoolwork results in a huge argument, so we spend a big chunk of the day cleaning, and letting the kids just play. School is not worth the stress, and I’m pretty sure his reluctance is just tiredness from his lack of sleep. The days he sleeps well he has been chipper about schoolwork. He is angry and over being cooped up at home.
Miss E does a reading app, and flits about singing a long complicated song about not everyone finding their true love, which borrows heavily from Frozen song lyrics.
Rev G and I struggle for energy today, the interrupted sleep is doing a number on us.
We go to bed early. I cannot wait for this all to be over.
I have a dreadful night’s sleep. Master D sleeps through, so it’s not him keeping me awake for a change! It just takes me ages to get to sleep, so I give up and read a book, finally nodding off around 2am.
Poor Rev G lets me snooze longer again, it is 8:45am by the time I wake up. But as I get up I realise that I feel much better today, hooray!
I quickly shower and dress, and get the kids going on today’s school work while I make breakfast. The children do all of their schoolwork quickly, and spend most of the day playing.
I catch up with my BFF online, who is having a bloody hard time at her teaching job. I feel for all the workers who’ve had to suddenly shift to working online and from home right now – that is a heavy mental load indeed.
I do lots of jobs around the house while the kids do their work, and even make hot lunches for everyone. It is good to feel normal again! Jobs that felt impossible yesterday I do with ease today.
Doesn’t grabbing a hedge just fill you with joy? …
I realise my daily devotions have been lacking for the past few days, so I spend some quiet time with God. This is easier said than done with everyone at home, but I manage. And I listen to Radio Rhema at full volume while I potter around cleaning. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this station, it makes a huge difference to my day.
It is pouring with rain again almost all day, and I hope the leak doesn’t appear again. Getting any tradespeople in at the moment is an exercise in patience.
My day is made when a friend from my morning prayer group drops off (contactlessly) a box of feijoas, yum! What a treat.
Master D wakes up multiple times in the night. He is scared. He is hot. He needs cuddles. It takes Rev G and I back to the newborn days, and not in an ‘Aw, how cute is it that he needs us?’ way.
We’re exhausted.
Rev G is kind and lets me sleep in, and as I try to get going in the morning, it is clear that I am still not over the bug we’ve all had. Rev G got it first, and it lasted for days. I’m so tired I can barely think – just how Rev G was last week!
Unfortunately for him, my lack of energy means he has to be on the kids today. He has work to do, so you can imagine Rev G’s stress levels and tiredness from the interrupted sleep! After lunch I lie on my son’s bed as he keeps up a stream of consciousness monologue while he colours in an activity book. He just needs company.
Master D’s room needs tidying quite badly, but neither of us has the energy to do it. I lie there, trying to summon up the willpower for a cleaning frenzy. It does not magically appear. Does anyone else feel like they’ll have to do a massive clean when all of this is over? I find it almost impossible to keep up with the daily tornado of detritus my children leave all over the house.
Miss E does her schoolwork, some of which is just using reading and maths apps on the laptop. Although we normally don’t let out kids near apps, today I am grateful for these, as they are keeping her happy and occupied.
She has had her ups and downs over lockdown, but has mostly taken it well. She is keen to do schoolwork, and is generally just a good, sweet kid. I know she is still scared about the virus, but that anxiety has lessened considerably, and she has adapted to our new normal without too much complaint.
Master D is a different story. Although his behaviour has been better over the past few days, his anxiety is still quite evident. He is just over it. He’s angry and just wants to get back to playing at school.
Master D finishes his colouring, so we snuggle on the couch and watch a movie. At the moment he HATES being alone. Even though I’m not 100%, I can at least give him some one-on-one time, and my presence.
I eagerly watch the 4pm update from our Prime Minister. I thought she was giving us details of what Level Two will be like, but that is being left until Thursday. Still, she is in talks with Australia about a Trans-Tasman bubble – perhaps our planned trip to the Gold Coast in July may still happen? I live in hope…
I am still confident we will move to Level Two some time next week. Now the end is in sight I have noticed I’m more able to do more high-level thinking, even despite my tiredness today. My word puzzles are easier to do, I’m back to watching my favourite murder-mystery shows, I’m back to reading books. I feel peaceful.
Today we have the most delicious sleep-in. Master D somehow makes it until 7:30am (late for him), so we blearily tell him he can watch the telly, and manage to sleep for another hour. Bliss.
Today is the first Sunday off that Rev G has had since beginning his new job in January (ministers are entitled to a Sunday off each term, plus normal leave entitlement). We debate joining another church’s online service but we’re tired. A day off is definitely what we all need.
The kids and I are still on the tail-end of a bug that’s left us wiped out, so we potter around all day, not doing much. The kids don’t eat until lunchtime, and demand to know why I am serving them lunch when they haven’t had breakfast. I am still in my PJ’s at 1pm. There is nothing that needs to be done urgently today.
Our house resembles a bomb site; the detritus of children is everywhere. Rev G pits his wits against theirs, trying to get them to tidy up. Predictably, they act as if you’ve just asked them to climb Mt Everest using just a teaspoon for equipment. They are tired. We are tired. There are no winners today, except at least the lounge looks a little better.
Rev G finds out his COVID-19 test is negative. Just as we thought. We have no idea where Rev G picked up the bug from (he is the only one who goes out for groceries), but regular cold viruses don’t stop for COVID pandemics, I guess.
The weather is absolutely chucking it down; our street resembling a waterfall. I discover a leak in our roof by sitting right underneath it and getting a huge fright when the equivalent of a small cup of water suddenly gushes onto my top!
I know our landlords had the roof re-done because it had multiple leaks when they lived here, but this particular leak is in an eave/window box and would have been missed. Fortunately the heavy rain passes so the leak stops.
We spend the evening binge-watching The Stranger on Netflix, woah, what a good show!
On Thursday I came down with a bug that Rev G had likely brought home from a trip to the supermarket several days earlier.
Rev G seldom gets sick, and when he does, he goes into this exasperating ‘deer-in-headlights/not really with the programme’ mode. He doesn’t seem sick as he’s not feverish or coughing or anything of the sort. He just sits there complaining about being tired and being unable to think. I always get irritated by this behaviour.
What always happens next, is that I come down with it and get it badly. We then realise that Rev G wasn’t just being vacuous mess, he was actually sick.
After this happening for what feels like the hundredth time in our marriage, we have come to an accord. The minute he starts acting like a brainless ditz, I am sending him off to bed!
Anyway, this time I came down with a bug that left me a bit sniffly, a bit chesty and extremely tired. We don’t think it’s the ‘rona, but Rev G gets himself tested anyway. The Healthline staff don’t think it’s COVID-19, neither do the medical centre staff, and nor do the testing staff. But they are testing anyone with even one of the symptoms of COVID-19. It is better to be safe than sorry. We should hear the results on Monday.
Given that we have not had close contact with anyone outside our bubble for six weeks, know no one who is a confirmed case, plus there are zero cases of community transmission currently in Wellington, the chances are this is just a typical winter bug.
By Saturday I had recovered enough to have a job interview via Zoom, for a part-time role at one of our local churches. I’m quite excited about the role – a lot of it involves writing and using social media, so it is right up my alley. I will hear soon if I’ve been successful or not.
Our day starts out well. I have my early morning prayer meeting, and Master D is up and about and quite chipper.
That chipper-ness deteriorates after his class Zoom call. Master D gets upset over small things. He cries for 20 minutes because his sister picked a flower from the garden that he wanted. Like full-on wailing, so many tears.
I realise it is the Zoom calls that are triggering this behaviour, and is why it was so hard to get schoolwork done last week. Master D is really sensitive, and the Zoom calls do not work for him. Perhaps he feels sad or angry or disappointed that he can’t play with his classmates in person, or perhaps he’s not sure about the work expected from him as he can’t concentrate on the teacher during the loud and busy meetings. Either way, it’s not working.
I know he’s not the only young one finding this method of working to be impossible. A friend says her child gets wound up and angry after each call so they aren’t worth it. Another friend says her child cries and is hard to settle after seeing his friends online.
I talk to Miss E. She is not bothered if we don’t do the video calls anymore, so I email their teachers to let them know the situation. We will still try to get the work done, but we can do without the constant tantrums and tears that the video calls bring on.
We go into ‘cocoon mode’ in the afternoon; the kids make me watch “Thunderbirds Are Go!”, which I don’t mind because it’s a great show, but I draw the line at Pokemon. Master D just wants to snuggle with us. They are buoyed by a delivery of new markers, colouring pencils and thermal tops that took a surprisingly short time to be delivered. The school supplies have arrived in the nick of time as our last lot of markers have been ravaged by the children. Amazing how these little things make a difference.
As soon as I open my eyes I remember that we’ve moved into Level Three today. It puts a spring in my step.
There is a flurry of activity across the road from us. Our neighbours house was in the middle of being painted when lockdown came and tools had to be put down. The painters are back with gusto, and the weather is perfect for them. It is a lovely reminder of all the businesses that can now reopen.
Our local park has been overrun throughout lockdown; so overrun that it is quite stressful trying to maintain physical distancing. We have preferred to use side streets for our walks, but I do miss wide open spaces. We are now allow to travel to parks and beaches in our region as long as we are careful to maintain distancing, so we decide to head to one of my favourite spots in Wellington, the Botanic Gardens. It is a short car ride away, but too far to walk to with children, and I can’t tell you how much I have missed this place.
There is definitely more traffic on the roads, but the gardens are not unduly busy. Most of the other walkers are elderly, who give Rev G and I grins as they watch our children playing.
The gardens have many tracks snaking through them, and we take the tracks leading off the main one. They are quiet, we meet almost no one. The children have the ‘dell’ entirely to themselves and play there for quite some time, swinging on vines, performing shows on the stage, and generally just running around a big, wide, open grassy space. It is just what they have needed.
Miss E wants to see the rose garden, and she is intrigued to discover each rose has a different name, and many have different smells and shapes. Both children visit each rose in turn, giving it a sniff, and reading out the names. We decide ‘summer dream’ is our favourite name. This is learning at its best.
The day is warm and sunny, and I feel so much better for being able to get out here. We will definitely be back over level three.
We decide to celebrate level three with a takeaway meal – I can’t tell you how glad I am for a break from cooking. Rev G is a good cook, but he takes an age to get any dinner on the table and invariably injures himself while cooking – cutting himself with a knife, scalding himself with boiling water, dropping a pan on his foot…it is usually less stressful to just cook myself.
We want to support the small businesses in our suburb, so we get dinner from our local pub and are pleased to see it comes in recyclable and compostable packaging. Takeaway is not something we have often, but this certainly feels like even more of a treat than usual.
I tune into the news – mostly to make sure we are following the ‘rules’ correctly. There are beautiful stories of families being reunited. One of the women in my prayer group is grateful that her inlaws are taking her young children for a few days as they have extended their bubble to include them. She and her husband have been incredibly stressed, trying to juggle working from home with looking after a 5 year old and a 9 year old. My friend is actually working on something very important for kickstarting our economy at her government job, so I am also grateful she is getting this break!
I sleep reasonably well, and am cheered by the thought that we will move to Level Three tomorrow, hooray!
Thousands of coffee drinkers and takeaway lovers will be celebrating tomorrow. I don’t drink coffee, and being gluten free my takeaway options are limited, but we decide we’ll support our local pub by getting a meal. I figure the big chains will survive, but small, independent businesses need our help.
Today however, the weather is atrocious and this seems fitting somehow. We muddle through the day, Rev G enjoying a day off. We do lots of baking; I do Tai Chi and the kids work out to Go Noodle. In the midst of this pottering, Rev G points out a small job going at a local church. I decide to apply. It is the right amount of hours, and the type of work I find interesting.
My family Zoom catch up won’t work for some reason. But I know my parents are okay, and they are looking forward to expanding their bubble to include my brother from tomorrow. I hope it is only a matter of weeks before I can see them in person.
I can’t believe we have made it through 33 days of lockdown. I vividly remember my heart sinking when the time frame for lockdown was announced – how could I possibly cope for that long? I’d already been housebound for two weeks and had found that hard.
But we have coped. Some days have not been easy – pretty much all of last week was awful – however, we’ve had some great days too. As a family we haven’t imploded, and I’ve had more contact with my extended family than ever before. Rev G and I have helped our children to manage their emotions about COVID-19/lockdown, and their anxiety has significantly decreased.
What will I take away from this experience?
Nothing matters more than my family and friends.
My simple life is pretty much how I want it. I know lots of people have appreciated the chance to slow down and shed all the busyness of life, but I can say there’s nothing I was doing before lockdown that I don’t want to pick up again once this is all over. I’m grateful for that.
I’m looking forward to volunteering again at my church’s playgroup, and eventually picking up some part time work. I like having time to run errands, and being there for my kids after school. I like having time for writing small group studies and hope my brain is back to normal soon to get cracking on my novel.
But I hope I never again take for granted being able to get out and explore where I live. Or being able to see my friends, to give out hugs, to sit in a cafe and visit my library. I hope I never again take for granted the good health of my family, being able to travel where ever I wish, to feel the sand beneath my feet as I walk on the beach, my beloved ‘culture vulture’ activities (the museums, theatres and galleries are calling me).
I hope I never again take for granted all the people who really are essential: the supermarket workers, rubbish collectors, the Police, hospital and rest home staff. You’re bloody brilliant. I know you’ve just been doing your jobs, and you’ve probably been just as scared as the rest of us, but thank you. There are no words really, thank you is inadequate.
Despite yesterday’s walk up a steep hill, my knee is none the worse for wear. In fact, I am able to walk on it today with very little pain, hooray! I won’t dance for joy in case that jinxes it, but I certainly am relieved to see improvement.
Online church is well attended. We’ve been getting different families to videos themselves doing the actions to some of the children’s songs, with adorable results. It brings a smile to all.
I have a quick chat with my cousin who is a social worker at a hospital. She says her work was initially crazy, dropping off groceries and other things to her vulnerable clients (she works with the elderly). Work is less busy now as they are getting few referrals from GPs. No one wants to go to the doctor right now.
She is part of the COVID-19 response team at the hospital, donning PPE ech day. She is in good spirits – they have not been overrun thanks to our swift lockdown.
I wonder how this pandemic will change us. Will we see any lasting benefits or will we quickly return to ‘normal’? Will our generation be like my grandmother’s, who went through the Great Depression? When she died, we found used wrapping paper, countless rubber bands and string, a huge stash of plastic bags. All remnants of a generation who never let anything go to waste.
In the future will we have stashes of pantry staples, hand sanitiser and face masks in case of another pandemic? I expect for many of us the answer will be yes.
Miss E wonders when she can go back to school. She is desperate for some time away from her brother, so Rev G and I plan to take each child out for some one-on-one time once we move to level three as our recreation options will open up a bit more.
Tonight is Master D’s turn to run family night. We watch both Frozen movies. Fortunately for me, watching movies never gets old. But I worry about Master D, he is rather listless. Lockdown has been hard for him, and he is not himself. The lack of stimulation from other kids is affecting him, and I hope we can get back to school in a couple of weeks.
An early start for the day, getting up for the ANZAC dawn service. I have seldom missed it over the course of my life, even attending them when I lived in London.
A ‘Stand at your Letterbox at Dawn’ campaign was launched by the Returned Services Association, and many of our neigbours have decorated their front yards and fences with poppies.
At 6am the service begins. There are 6 people out on our street, not a great number as our street is quite long, but I see lights on in other houses and I suspect many people are listening on their radios inside.
The day is cool and windy, but fine. We head to a nearby reserve that I’ve read about but never visited before. Online I am told it has a family friendly circular track. It is a stunning walk.
The path leads up through bush, going up hill for about 30 minutes, and you are rewarded by expansive views of Wellington and the harbour.
We spend over an hour in the bush; it is just what I needed. The walk is too steep for my knee right now, but I pushed myself and am still very glad we went. I will wait a bit longer before attempting it again, I did spend several sections of the walk having to hobble around like I was 80.
Miss E and Master D are in their element, flitting about the bush like sprites. They find cicada casings, they claim a hollowed out section of bank as their ‘palace’, they climb trees and make up games.
I catch up with family online and they seem in good spirits today. Most of my parents’ street turned up for the Dawn Service after my mother made everyone a poppy invitation.
By the end of the day, the wheels fall off. I have just noticed that Master D has scratched something in the house quite badly – which is bad because we are renting, and bad because, well, we don’t use scissors to deface property ever.
He goes to bed in disgrace. Miss E gets upset because I am cross that she watched her brother do it and said nothing. She too goes off to bed.
Rev G’s sermon has vanished and he cannot find it on his computer anywhere, so he spends much of the day rewriting it. It is not for nought, he thinks the new version is better anyway.
I spend my time doing exciting things like online grocery shopping and cleaning and perusing Pinterest for craft ideas using the limited resources we have. I got rid of loads of craft stuff before we moved – now I wish I had things like scrap pieces of fabric and embroidery floss. I rarely get remorse about things I’ve cleaned out, but this year, boy, so many things would have made a difference to my lockdown experience if I’d hung onto them!
