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Writer's pictureSarah

9th January 2021: My mood is being dictated by a wobbly tooth

How was week one for you? Or series 3, episode 1. We’ve done ok for being shut in the house together in the middle of winter. However, I’m conscious I need to get today’s post down quickly before that feeling passes, never to be seen again.

I'm not quite as Zen as Henry but close

The kids have completed their school work without argument, I’ve hit all my deadlines without stress, and the house isn’t in too much of a state. The only shouting that’s happened has been no more than usual: Henry at Bella for trying to insist he put a picture one of her friends drew her on his bedroom wall (SO weird). Bella at Henry when he wouldn’t stop looking at her. Me at Henry when he knocked my glass of wine into the fruit bowl because has no spatial awareness. Andy doesn’t really shout, he lectures them until they glaze over then he shuts himself in his office (now the living room) and comes out when he’s had some space. (I remain eternally resentful that my desk is essentially in a thoroughfare.)


I digress. So why the good mood? It basically boils down to the fact that Henry’s on the verge of losing his first front tooth. At seven and a half he’s only lost two down the bottom (as keen readers from Lockdown 1.0 will remember) so even though he’s growing like a weed, showing all the hallmarks of a pre-teen (grunting, backchat, a Minecraft obsession) he’s also still rocking the same glorious smile he’s had since he was three, all perfect baby teeth and crinkly eyes.


The fact that one of his teeth is now at 45 degrees to the others means I have just days left to enjoy my baby boy’s face before it changes forever. All his friends have their second teeth and the change they create in a child is like no other.


Poor little Henners is a late August baby so went off to school aged 4 and 10 days, all turned up trousers, baggy jumper and chubby cheeks. I remember at the time feeling so sad about that being it - into full time education until he’s a teenager, spending only 10 weeks a year at home with us. How naive I was.

Little Henry: Obligatory first day of school picture

So in a week where it would be very easy to be driven crazy by the kids, I find myself grateful to have this extra time with them. I am quite literally watching them change before my eyes and while they are driving me spare 50% of the time, it does help when you stop to think how fleeting this time is. I can highly recommend going and watching them sleep - it’s amazingly restorative. Sure, it’s borderline creepy, and if they happen to wake up it really scares them, but it does help to drink them in all musty and innocent and, crucially, silent.


I should also be fully transparent and confess that Xander is at nursery four days a week. I already knew that was a game changer, that I wouldn't be able to home school and work with him here endlessly pointing at things (he's at that excellent age where he wants everything but has very few words so his only option is to point and grow increasingly frustrated when you can't work out what on earth it is he needs).


We have also implemented a routine where we take it in turns to take the kids out for a walk in the week, giving the other an hour or two to work, or to just sit quietly and sob into the silence. Which, furthermore, means when we all go for a walk together at the weekend, it's Something A Bit Different. I won't let anyone say we don't live a varied lifestyle.

As predicted, the moment of upbeat positivity has already passed. I'm writing this at 9am on a Saturday - Xander has been whinging - and now crying - since 6am, Bella has just spilt our last pint of milk over the table and floor, and Henry is, as ever, constantly trying to read over my shoulder. (If your children cannot yet read, please enjoy it. I promise it is unbelievably annoying when they start dictating back a message you’re sending a friend sharing a frank insight into your mood at that moment.)


I was already very nervous about how we were going to fill the first of six (plus) weekends with Nothing To Do and the reality a few hours in hasn’t dispelled any of my concerns.

At least it’s not raining. Yet.

In the middle of a field no one can hear us scream

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