I'd told myself we would have today off. No home-schooling, no nagging, just easing into this new normal and finding our feet when suddenly everything is seen in a new light.
When they get on my nerves I can no longer tell myself they'll be back at school on Monday, or on a playdate tomorrow, or that when I've had enough of the noise and mess and bouncing off the walls we can get in the car and go out to let off steam. No such luxury. It's us and them holed up here for the foreseeable.
In light of that realisation I decided today I will practice having more patience. But when Henry has spent 10 glorious minutes driving his remote control car round the kitchen island while I make breakfast, I snap at him. Bad start.
However, I have set one very important rule.
Everyone must get washed and dressed by 9am every weekday. Preferably in non-elasticated trousers. Simple but, I think, pretty important to the future of our own little civilisation.
Andy has now been asleep for about 24 hours but mid-morning he appears asking for a sausage sandwich. I'm starting to wonder if this is all a ruse to get out of home-schooling. Or at the very least a bad reaction to the news he can't go back to work on April 1st as planned, after 3 months of parental leave.
By lunch time I'm getting pretty antsy about how little work I've done today. Two clients have already put me on 'pause' - essentially saying they can't justify PR and comms at the moment - which is making me even more nervous to retain those I have left.
I realise I'm going to have to structure our working days pretty carefully to ensure we can both get some work done without absolutely losing the plot at the kids. And they, in turn, are going to have to somehow learn that we are not here solely to entertain them 24/7 for the next three months or more.
I am spectacularly impatient and I am a control freak. It is imperative we devise a set up whereby I am not shouting at them just for being kids. I really really don't want to come out of this hating them.
So, I end up doing what any normal parent would do and let them watch an inappropriate film: Grease. The key theme is that if you want someone to like you just change every fundamental aspect of your character, take up smoking and get a filthy attitude.
They love the music and we realised the film is only a PG so what harm can it do? They are engrossed and, as expected, most of it goes over their heads. To be fair they'd watch Newsnight if it was on.
Other highlights from today:
Andy asked if was allowed a chip butty for dinner. I refused.
We called Mum and Dad on Zoom at 9am. They were still in bed. (Some talk of Dad having been up and gone back to bed but I didn't believe a word of it.)
Our lovely neighbours both delivered food parcels. One included eggs - which are like gold dust round here - and the other giant Dairy Milk Buttons. I love them both.
They also both brought bananas, and I had a lot in already. I'm planning a lot of banana-based recipes.
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