Lockdown Week 2 (Tues)

TUESDAY

My suggestion about constructive use of free time is not well received. There’s a bit of door slamming from the 12-year-old, who doesn’t take criticism all that well. I point out that it isn’t criticism – just a suggestion.

In the afternoon they start learning sign-language together. I soon realise that they’ve found new and creative ways to tell each other to ‘go away’. I remind them to keep it decent for the eight-year-old, who reassures me earnestly that he knows all the swear words already from school, so I mustn’t worry.

Lockdown Week 2 (Mon)

MONDAY

A calm acceptance has come over the household, and we’ve now fallen into some kind of routine. In the pre-9am slot, everyone bustles around doing something active; there’s yoga, YouTube exercise videos, breakfast banter and general cheerfulness.  

The husband and I take turns hovering close to the radio, ready to hit the ‘off’ button when it gets too much. The children listen on and off to R4’s Today programme, but some days there are snippets which can be upsetting, particularly for the 15-year-old who understands more than the others. 

Schoolwork happens with varying degrees of application. At this stage I’m not too concerned with the quality of their output; I’m just grateful for anything. 

The junior school holds daily group video calls with teachers and classmates. A really happy little crew. The senior school has an interactive plan starting after Easter, which is unlikely to be quite as jolly, but some regular contact will be helpful. It’s hard enough being a teenager as it is.

Technology is amazing. I try to imagine lockdown happening in the 1980s, and really can’t.

Lockdown Week 1 (Fri)

FRIDAY

Time has taken on a whole new meaning. It’s only been a week, but it could easily have been six. There have been lots of treats – mainly chocolate-based for the children, and mainly liquid-based for us.

It’s impossible to imagine another three months of living like this. Literally impossible. But it’s looking likely.

We go for a lunchtime stroll and stop briefly at the supermarket. We avoid people on the way, queue outside, then I go in alone and look around half-empty shelves. I manage to buy a few things though. 

People mostly walk past with their heads bowed, avoiding eye contact. Some of the supermarket staff are cheerful, and their warm smiles and good wishes lift my spirits. 

I smile back – that’s the least I can do.

                                                                                                      

Lockdown Week 1 (Thurs)

THURSDAY

Okay, so the cracks are starting to show. 

Not so much quiet focus as wilful wind-ups in the morning. The-12 year-old has been hiding the 15-year-old’s stuff – with help from the eight-year-old. There’s been shouting and irritability – mainly from me.

I encourage dog walking – does this count as our exercise, or the dog’s? I’m not convinced that walking slowly in the park and throwing a ball 40 times is how I’d choose to spend my allotted daily exercise time. 

The 15-year-old has decided to grab an opportunity to escape, and offers to take Satchmo out – much to the dog’s delight. The only snag is that she absolutely hates picking up his deposits, and groans heavily when I thrust bags into her hand. The eight-year-old offers to go along too, but the 15-year-old quickly declines and shoots out of the door. 

I just manage to remind her about social distancing before she vanishes. She sighs, but I know she’s worried; I can trust her to be sensible. 

This evening we applaud the NHS alongside the rest of the nation. We do it quietly, but it’s heartfelt. 

                                                                                                      

Lockdown Week 1 (Wed)

WEDNESDAY

Pretty much the same as Tuesday. 

Model school children in the morning;

Not much in the afternoon that isn’t trampoline-based – though of course physical activity is important too…

Family dinner followed by a family film in the evening. Domestic bliss.

Lockdown Week 1 (Tues)

TUESDAY

Satchmo is beside himself, with a houseful of people to play with. But rather than the usual noise and extra-long walks that normally happen at weekends and holidays, a subdued quiet descends on the house by 9am. He’s clearly disappointed, staring longingly at the garden through the back window.

Bertie-Wooster the cat struts past him smugly, tail in the air, towards the cat flap. His routine is unchanged – apart from fewer quiet spots to sleep.

The children have settled into some sort of work routine, with surprisingly little fuss and confusion. We have the schools to thank for that, with coherent and encouraging home learning packs from the primary school and regular homework assignments on the usual secondary school online platform.

The afternoons haven’t been all that productive so far – not sure if that’s my fault? After a morning of quiet focus, it seems unfair to crack the whip after lunch, particularly when it’s sunny.

Lockdown Week 1 (Mon)

MONDAY

Confinement (def): “a situation in which someone is forced to stay in a place, especially a prison, and not allowed to leave”

Not sure about the ‘fine’ part. 

We’ve managed 1 hour and 17 minutes of blissful calm. There have been no fights (physical) and minimal squabbling so far. Just a tricky moment around 10.06am when the house rubber went missing. But as mother extraordinaire, I foresaw this potential domestic disharmony some weeks ago and was able to produce three brand new rubbers – one for each child. They won’t last long.

The doors of home-schooling opened to the nation this morning - though many families had already started due to earlier school closures. Last week, disbelief unfolded day-by-day, as parents gradually realised they were on the brink of 24/7 contact with their offspring for the foreseeable future.

Suddenly the six-week summer break seems a breeze.

In the true British way, people up and down the country met in groups over the weekend to bemoan their impending loss of social contact. The irony of this was lost on some people. 

Others took to social media or wherever else they could be heard, to express their dismay at the sheer ignorance. Don’t these people read the news? Maybe they just look at the bullet points?

But this virus is real. It means business.

On Monday evening, Boris duly reacted to this unacceptable behaviour by announcing temporary social distancing laws, with non-compliance punishable by fines or worse. It’s the only way; hit people where it hurts - their wallets.

That’s it, he said - you lot clearly can’t be trusted. 

This was one of the most depressing six minutes of air time in recent memory. But he has a point.