Parenting in the apocolypse

Hey Beestonians, I do hope you are doing well and are safe at home. That’s how we start our sentences now isn’t it? Not, ‘what have you been up to?’ or ‘been anywhere nice?’ Now we chat to people like we’re Victorian novelists.

Every communication begins with ‘I sincerely hope this letter finds you and your family in good health.’ Mr Darcy is spinning in his grave with excitement at it all.

Those of us with children at home seem to have fallen into one of three categories.

  1. Diligent home-schooling and regular work sent to school for marking, routines adhered to and alarms set in the morning.
  2. Maybe we do a couple of lessons a week and send a photo of a drawing to assure the school we are still alive, no alarms and very little diligence, a few arguments per day but no throwing things.
  3. The kids are feral/unsure as to location.

We have settled into category 2 at the moment. We do a couple of bits of school work and send a picture when we remember, but mostly do our own thing and try to stay sane. Our daughter’s school topic was Vikings, so instead of scholarly research and reading we built the most amazing Viking settlement out of Lego and had a full on war. No one learnt anything, but we will remember the fun we had. I reckon that’s the goal in a time of our lives when goals are paused. Just getting through the week sane and healthy, and maybe doing a couple of fun bits and bobs that the kiddos will remember.

By far the most memorable part of all of this for me is the sheer relentlessness of being a parent. I know that sounds daft because you sign up for that part when you have kids, but you also send them to nursery and then school and regain your time and head-space. My daughter has been going to some form of education for the last 7 years, and now she is HERE ALL OF THE TIME, AND WOULD LIKE ANOTHER SNACK PLEASE. I’ve taken to faking needing a wee just to get a few minutes alone upstairs. It’s not that I don’t love her company, but if she asks me another question about Roblox I’m moving into the back seat of my car.

I’m hoping her memories of this period of her life will be positive. We have tried to strike a balance between maintaining school contact and allowing her the freedom to make videos about balloon modelling in her room and send us endless edits. I hope that her main memory is that we were all together for a while. Both my husband and I work long hours and the kiddo is foisted upon grandparents a lot, but she will have had months with us, and got to know us a bit more. I hope that this makes us respect each other a little more and look forward to long weekends of doing nothing when this is all over.

I have a feeling that we will miss this little isolation bubble when we can choose to leave it. It’s either that or we go full Category 3 and teach her how to hunt the local cats with her teeth.

DL

Comment

  • You will miss it. Like you will miss your children when they have grown up, left home and have lives of their own. You make the most of every bit of Now, and every bit of Then before they fledge the nest. It does not come twice (unless you are a rich male inclined to run through wives like chocolate treats).

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *