I am incredibly tired today.

Rev D decides to shift his day off to today, so he can be ‘on’ the kids. This is very kind, but there is nowhere I can go to get away from the noise. If you’ve met my kids you know they only operate at one volume: LOUD!

The studio, which is supposed to be ‘my’ space is covered in Rev D’s online church clutter. He needs to work from there right now, but I need a space to be neat and tidy before I can relax – that’s just how I am wired – so going to the studio isn’t an option. The weather is rubbish so I can’t get out for a walk.

All this makes me feel extraordinarily grumpy. I retreat to my bedroom, and do tai chi with the volume turned right up so I cannot hear anyone downstairs. I read old YA book of mine; I am only now – after four weeks of lockdown – able to read again.

I realise my problem is lack of stimulation and overstimulation at the same time. Let me explain.

I am an extrovert, and I love people. I tend to socialise widely, and need several points of contact (like volunteering, helping at church, a dinner party with friends) throughout the week; especially as I’m not currently working. Zoom is just not the same, not enough. My hobbies are mostly ‘out and about’ hobbies. Although I make crafts from time to time, I greatly prefer things like hiking, visiting museums and galleries, and volunteering with others. So the lack of stimulation is starting to tell.

At the same time, I am a highly sensitive person, so being around my lovely, rambunctious, messy, noisy children without breaks is taking its toll. Caring for them is taking up all my mental energy. I can well remember how much better I felt once I started to get breaks once they had started kindy. I am a much better parent when I get breaks. Who isn’t?

There is little I can do about this. I am looking forward to Level Three, as we are allowed to travel a bit further for exercise. We have a beach 15 minutes drive away, and I know a visit there will do wonders for me. A few more parks and trails will be open to us too, and we will check them out also.

There are some great trails in the suburb where I live, but they are very hilly, and my poor knee just can’t do steep hills right now. Going just a little bit into a neighbouring suburb suddenly opens up new opportunities for me to get out of the house.

Today was a write-off. Rev G made butter chicken for dinner last night, and unbeknown to him, it had gluten in the package sauce.

I spend the day feeling like I needed to sleep, but can’t. I spend most of it lying down as gluten takes the wind out of my sails. I watch Manifest on demand, and even though I’m about eight episodes in by now, I can’t decide if it’s any good or not yet. But it is light entertainment.

I try to do the crosswords and code crackers in my Mindfood magazine, but the gluten has given me bad brain fog. Master D is banned from the TV for the day as he keeps hurting his sister, sometimes by doing something brainless – like throwing a ball right at her eye – and sometimes it’s on purpose. I know he’s sick of lockdown and is anxious, but we still don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour. He plays with Rev G for most of the day, and they make a cute video out of Lego for tomorrow’s church service.

Yep, another sucky day for me, but nevertheless, we press on.

Today is my day ‘off’ the kids. It is just as well, as my knee is killing me. I haven’t left the house in four days and my P.E. regimen is limited to hanging out the washing. It is beyond frustrating to be back at square one.

Rev G is in charge of homeschooling and has a bad start. He can’t get into the daily Zoom meeting. It is only when the call is almost over that we realise the teacher is setting up a NEW link every day, and we missed it as it was right down the bottom of an email.

The school uses a communication/story sharing site called Educa, which quite frankly, is pants. Using it as the main method of communication with parents is tricky, because sometimes we are sent direct messages while other times it’s sent as a group story. It makes finding the correct information harder. But it is what it is. There are lots of things to iron out in this new way of schooling, and as the child of a teacher, I am fully aware of the hard work that must have gone into producing the teaching plan.

I’m friends with one of the mums whose kid is in the same class as my kids. The schoolwork pressure and technical difficulties have brought her to tears today. She knows our school has no expectation for kids to do work if it’s too much for parents, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling like a failure. Lockdown is not a walk in the park at her house, and she finds the relentlessly positive “I’m using this opportunity to be my best self/learn swahili/deep clean the fireplace” social media posts just make her feel inadequate.

She manages not to throw her laptop out the window, takes a deep breath, and puts on the telly for the kids. Lockdown sucks.

My children’s teacher has messaged the plan for the day so Rev G and the kids go off for a walk to do their maths assignment. They make a tally sheet to mark off all the soft toys they see. They come back with a detailed sheet, including real animals they spotted along the way, like ducks. Both children do some maths on different apps that the school uses. I don’t like too much device time, but it does give Miss E some much needed time away from her brother.

Master D continues to battle with anxiety. He is terrified of the dark, and hates that many of the rooms in our house don’t have curtains to pull against the dark at night. (I’m not sure what the owners of our house have against curtains, but the lack of them is bizarre. Fortunately my MiL has sourced some for us.) Master D also hates being left alone, which means having quiet time in his room playing with his toys is out of the question.

Both children are playing up at bedtime, leading Rev G tearing out his hair in frustration. They have been doing this most night for the past few weeks. Neither of our children are great at listening and following instructions at the best of times – like most children, but their shenanigans at bedtime are taking their toll on Rev G. He is angry and exhausted.

I am sure that it just another way the children’s anxiety is coming out. We are living in scary times. An invisible virus killing people is scary. We have to shelter indoors and change our lives dramatically. It’s incredibly scary, and difficult for children to process this stuff.

We talk about what we can do to support Master D and his sister. Leaving lights on overnight. Checking in each day with how they feel. Managing our own emotions. Giving lots of cuddles. Trying to be patient.

The advice about kids returning to school at level 3 has changed to no longer being ‘voluntary’. My heart sinks. For me this may mean I struggle with my knee injury for several weeks, perhaps months. The type of injury I have requires rest, not physio. It is impossible for me to get the rest I need right now. Who can rest when they have young children at home 24/7 who require care, activities and schooling ? I am fully supportive of all the measures we are taking to stamp out COVID-19, but I’d like to scream.

School has given all of us a big dose of normality that we needed. Today had a sense of ordinariness that was almost at pre-lockdown levels.

We all sat and watched Karen O’Leary’s show on the Papa Kainga/Home Learning TV channel – mostly because Rev G and I love her, being big Wellington Paranormal fans. She is her usual deadpan, funny self.

Then the children have their morning meeting with their class, and are given a quick lesson, with various assignments pertaining to the lesson to go off and do.

Today’s lesson is on the water cycle of evaporation-condensation-precipitation.

Master D is given the task of ‘painting’ with water outside to watch the evaporation process. Fortunately it is a warm and sunny day. Miss E joins in and they have a ball. They make all sorts of shapes, and chalk around the outline.

Master D discovers that when chalk gets wet, it turns into ‘paint’, so both children spend at least 30 minutes painting with chalk. Very Montessori!

Miss E gets a harder task – making the water cycle in a bag. We take a break for lunch, she is very into fruit smoothies at the moment.

My Mindfood magazine arrives in the mail – fortunately they are not part of the media stable that has recently closed due to the Pandemic. I have never been so glad to see it in my life! It’s always a good read, but I am particularly grateful to get it at this time because it always has a decent puzzle section: crosswords, code-crackers, quizzes, even colouring in! I have a new appreciation for all of these; I find myself unable to read more than a few pages of a book at the moment due to lack of time, and my brain being overloaded. Normally I am a voracious reader, but the pandemic has reduced my brain temporarily to mush.

In the evening, Master D goes on a rambling monologue about burglars. I realise that this is how his anxiety is manifesting.

“You’re really worried about burglars at the moment,” I say. “What would help you feel safe right now?”

He really thinks about it, and then gives us several suggestions. One is that he and Rev G will check that all the doors are locked when he goes to bed. He also suggests putting mousetraps all over the house so the burglars will get snapped. (Can you tell Home Alone is one of his favourite movies?) We compromise, and say that Rev G will put them outside the house where the burglars won’t see them until it’s too late, mwahaha.

He also suggests that we have zombie costumes at the ready to scare burglars if they get in. We solemnly promise him that we will make zombie costumes at the next family night. And we honestly will. If it makes him feel safe, we will do anything in these extraordinary times. I may have to find an old bed sheet to cut!

Master D sleeps right through for the first time since lockdown began. We are grateful for the uninterrupted sleep.