I ran out of steam today. I woke up with rock bottom expectations. I was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to care, quite frankly. I had zero interest in raising my voice or nagging anyone. I didn’t want to be hassling the kids to do this or that. I just couldn’t be bothered.
So what if they had Cheerios - usually a twice a week treat - for breakfast yet again? What if they stared at a screen for two uninterrupted hours? If we didn’t bother picking up any crap off the floor, would it really matter? Why should Henry wear a top if he didn't want to?
Which all rather set the tone for the day.
I sat at the kitchen table drinking tea, idly flicking through last weekend’s FT and half-heartedly throwing soggy Shreddies in the general direction of Xander’s highchair tray. Which he then fed directly onto the floor.
I ignored the kids as they decided for no particular reason to drag the playroom table and chairs into the kitchen and set up their own breakfast table, helping themselves to quantities of Cheerios, sloshing three quarters of the remaining milk over them and arguing over who was having which of the two identical spoons.
When I was getting dressed Bella asked if she could “have some red lips” and I just said yes and let her slather herself in my not inexpensive lipstick. Henry followed suit. I failed to take a photo.
We sacked off Joe Wicks and I convinced Henners to get on with some school work. But instead of trying to teach him - teasing out every single answer, asking how he thought things should be spelt rather than just telling him outright - I told him what to put, I dictated everything letter by letter and forged his writing when I spotted things he’d missed later on.
All I wanted was to have something he could hand in come July. Or September. We also can’t afford to get behind on the workload - 15 tasks a week plus reading and online maths means you can’t take your eye off the home-schooling ball. But today I just couldn’t face it.
Bella, dressed in pink tulle skirt, toucan t-shirt and school shoes with an Elsa dress and unicorn body warmer over the top, lay on the sofa alternately playing some kind of animal beauty salon app on the tablet and watching a Tom and Jerry DVD.
I had a work call at 12pm - on video of course - and didn’t completely think through the logistics, which meant I was talking to my client and scribbling notes with my right hand while holding a spoon in front of Xander - who was just inches out of shot - with my left hand. I was reluctant to look at him for fear of giving the game away so just spent 20 minutes feeling around for food - eyes never wavering from the computer screen - and handing over whatever I laid my hands on.
So lunch for him consisted of salmon with melon, strawberries with their stalks still on and an unholy quantity of hummus.
I ensured the scurvy that has been threatening to engulf us for the last few weeks got a fairly decent foothold by feeding the big two ham sandwiches and hula hoops for lunch.
Half of Henry’s went on the floor during a complicated game that, as far as I could tell, involved one of them hitting the other and then moving rapidly away so they couldn’t be hit back. I wasn’t really paying attention. Henry’s upturned plate and half a sandwich was still on the floor at 4pm.
Andy had taken a well-deserved break from sitting in the spare room to go and mow the churchyard (we’re Good Citizens - he isn’t just ON the grass cutting rota, no he RUNS the rota) so once Xander woke up from a mammoth 30 minute lunchtime nap (screaming because he was clearly still shattered) we four trooped down to watch.
I spent a glorious hour lying in a patch of wild flowers (safe from the mower and nowhere near a grave), Xander sitting on the grass poking me in the eye with my own sunglasses and the others playing hide and seek behind some fairly impressive tombs.
I was only disturbed from my relaxation when Bella needed a wee and we had to go and find the only tree that was overlooked by neither road nor bedroom window. Thankfully her massive princess dress protected her modesty for the most part.
On the way back to my sunbathing spot - where I’d left Xander munching grape hyacinths and struggling to stay sitting upright on what, from a distance I realised, was actually quite a steep slope - I heard my name being called.
I haven’t been called Sarah by a 3D person for so long and it felt oddly comforting. Across the churchyard was a family from school who were also out for their daily yard time so we had lovely shouty chats, commiserating with each other about the fun and games of three kids and house arrest.
Later Andy wiped the kids’ hands with what turned out to be an antibacterial floor wipe he found in the church hall, which Henry declared ‘absolutely stank’, and I had to physically restrain both children from raiding the Tiny Tots biscuit stash they uncovered in the church hall kitchen. They are like moths to the flame, sniffing out sugar at 50 paces.
Being out and about on day release was as lovely as it sounds. It was probably highly illegal but I think we got away with it.
Tea came and went - sausages again - this time involving the same game from lunch but with kissing instead of hitting.
The bath wasn’t troubled by my filthy children for another day, and when I went to say goodnight to them I nearly broke my ankle on the mess strewn all over their bedroom floor.
I had two cupcakes for dinner and didn’t do my sanctioned exercise for the day.
Henry asked what day it was earlier. When I said it was Tuesday he sighed and said ‘Oh. Is that all?’. Yes sweetheart. That’s all.
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