Lock Downer

It’s no longer April

The home-schooling has taken a decisive turn for the worse, mummy is feeling trapped, neither child or parent are getting outside which is really fucking with our mental health. A vicious round of negativity circles through my head: get outside you’ll both feel better - don’t feel up to it. Get outside you’ll both feel better - can’t get the motivation, get outside you’ll both feel better - I’m basically rubbish at parenting. 

The Scream - Edvard Munch ©Tate

Both mine and Erbies physical demeanour is noticeably degenerating, along with our posture, as our middles expand and our shoulders slouch, we move from bed to desk. One day we spend over an hour just trying to log onto a virtual exercise book for a lesson. It is frustrating beyond words with no reward. For one lesson, Erbie concludes, apparently wrongly, that The Metamorphosis by Kafka is about mental health not being recognised in 1915 as Gregor Samsa had a nervous breakdown. This he is told is incorrect, it is an essay on communism. 

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

By the end of the week, I am starting to lose water from my eyes, not something I’m prone to do. Hot, salty tears creep out every time I get a moment of solitude. I snap at Erbie to make more of an effort. I start sleeping, a lot, at lunchtime, in the afternoon, as soon as I get into bed at night. I wake at 5am. The 3 year old packet of Prozac in the medicine cabinet is winking at me. I swerve Zoom meet-ups, silence phone calls and socially distance myself from texts. I fill in the online government forms incorrectly and panic. 

TheBelleMere sends another shopping list for gin, coffee, wine, tonic and loo roll.

I swear a lot in my head and quite a lot outside of it. The kettle blows up, I flick the switch off at the socket as sparks fly and a tiny flame flickers from its base.  

Thankfully TheGR steps in and starts taking Erbie out for a morning walk/run around the local wood, (yes there is a wood literally over the road and we still hadn’t made it out). Erbie charts his daily PE and the morning walk has gone from a 2 to a 5, on the point system of enjoyment, 5 being 'great fun'. 

We go for a family walk. Plants are delivered for the garden I maintain. I go to my allotment and re-pot stuff, I make a card as a favour for Annie and she pays me in Booja Bouja truffles and Whispering Angel. 

Whispering Angel rosé

Booja Booja dairy-free chocolate truffles
https://www.boojabooja.com/chocolate-truffles/collections/new-the-wonderbox/

Erbie had an online audition. My lily of the valley blooms. The sun comes out. Debs invites me for a socially distanced glass of wine and I accept. They have tadpoles. 

Home Schooling In The Flat

Hi love,

I have been quarantined at home this week, not with the virus but with the secondary virus which is 'home-schooling' Erbie, having done a sterling job of it before the Easter holidays, has gone into fully blown head in the hands - 'I can't take it' crisis mode, which I am gently trying to coax him from. The only way he will do anything school related is if I sit beside him - all day. 

Yesterday, I learnt the historical beginnings of the Muslim religion, the word for 'snow shoes' in French - (raquettes de neige) at least I hope that's what the translation is! I also spent a painful hour hindering the multiplication of negative numbers. As I mentioned before, me and numbers do not fit together well. Science involved learning about salts, this was interesting, did you know that a metal and an acid make a salt? Sodium chloride being table salt, although how anyone is supposed to learn the spelling of phenolphthalein and a simpler explanation of tritiation might need a little more time. The day ended with Dickens.

His bigotry surrounding the Jewish faith and his usage of slang in his work 'Oliver'. 

By 4pm Erbie and I were done, figuratively, mentally and physically. Obviously we didn't go out for a long walk to stretch our legs and stare longingly at other peoples gardens, which would have been sensible, good parenting and self-care, oh no, I had a large glass of wine and Erbie got on. the PS4 with his friends.

It's times like these that really bring home the insecurities around parenting. at least if they are at school for some of the time, someone else is responsible for their learning, you don't have to take all the flak. In lockdown I imagine thousands, if not millions of parents everywhere are rapidly becoming reliant on their alcohol fix at 6pm and trying to scream louder than the voices in their heads shouting: 'your'e no good at this.' All hail the teaching professionals.

The truth is none of us know what we're doing, we were just better at covering it up with our busy ness. 

Things I thought I'd miss but haven't: 

1.) Clothes shopping, probably because there is nowhere to wear them, and the ever expanding waistline.

Yup, that's it, I miss everything else.

Things I thought I'd get done but haven't:

That list is way too long. 

The kids are all desperate to go back to school and that's something none of us thought we'd hear. 

Anyway time to start another day, the school bell would have gone half and hour ago, must have more coffee.

Fake Butterfly In A Jar