I am struggling finding the words. In between attempting to provide some opportunities to explore and engage(but not school, because lets face it, I’m not their school teacher) and gently love and calm and settle three children who are not used to spending so much time in each others company in a world that appears to be falling down all around them, and making all of the snacks (seriously, why do they eat so much?!) and finding the socks and the shoes and disinfecting and vacuuming and hand washing and trying to keep screens to a minimum (who am I kidding!?)… well there isn’t a lot of me left at any time of the day.
We are doing what all the other families are doing all around the world. The very best we can. What more could we expect of ourselves? Or each other? Or our children?
Some days I feel totally unproductive. And then I realise. All of this is productive, it’s just productive in the new order of things. The children are safe. The house is warm. There is food on the table. There has been sun on the skin. I’m taking photos again. We are still laughing. We are together. We are doing okay.
We are doing okay.
You are doing okay.
But fuck it feels hard to breathe sometimes.
What is getting YOU through the long days at home?