Diary of a reluctant home-schooling mum
Monday/Day 1
Our day started not as early as a normal school day but early enough to be ready for Joe Wicks and his daily free school workout on his YouTube channel at 9am. At least child one and I are ready – child two hasn’t had his breakfast by the time it starts which is a mistake. Child one has dressed in her gym kit of gymnastics leggings and T-shirt and has even done us all a water bottle for the workout. Joe, however, is a few minutes late starting and we’re staring at his empty living room. Has he forgotten, they wonder? Then, when his voice announces the numbers watching but no body appears, is he invisible, they ask? Just thinking about the possibility of how difficult a workout would be with an invisible instructor when child two takes an unauthorised drink out of child one’s water bottle, sending her furiously stamping into the kitchen, complaining that she now has to wash the bottle because of the threat of covid and child two into a sulk in the corner. I do Joe mostly myself but still trying to jolly the two of them along. Works with child one, not with child two who will have to get up and have breakfast earlier tomorrow.
Child one disappears upstairs to get on with her schoolwork in her bedroom. Log child two into my computer and get him on Glow, then head for the shower. After shower, I realise the flaw in my plan – child two has my computer and I can’t do any work. Dig out my dad’s old computer and turn it on – it needs about a million updates so leave it to it while trying to work on my phone and motivate child two through a very boring handwriting exercise all about hand washing. He decides to drastically shorten it by summarising chunks. I feel this isn’t the point but reason it’s a skill in itself. In between much messaging of friends he’s managed to get it done and by lunchtime we’re abandoning school work for the day.
We need to go to the supermarket, ironically a more regular task at the moment than usual – not only do I not want to be piling up the trolley, the shelves are half empty anyway so it’s tricky to put together many meals in one trip and with the restrictions on numbers of items a weekly shop is impossible. But this is the first time I’ve had to go with the kids. Child one is old enough to stay on her own, but child two is still too little so he comes with me with strict instructions to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING. I spend the entire trip shrieking at him to stop touching everything. Does he normally touch this many things? We must usually be a mass of germs. This culminates in him collecting various Easter egg packets and trying to add them to the shopping while we’re in the queue to pay while the people behind us – older couple wearing latex gloves – look on in horror as he handles various packages and runs backwards and forwards past them with no social distancing, oblivious to my hissed disapproval. Not quite sure how but he’ll not be coming next time.
In the afternoon we try to set up the tablet so that they can have a remote piano lesson tomorrow. This takes numerous Skype calls to the piano teacher and after various attempts to get the angle right with cushions, boxes and chairs, the tablet ends up tied with string to a back to front music stand so it looks like a lockdown-reluctant hostage.
I had some idea we would spend the afternoon doing something creative but at this point I decide the creativity should be all Mr Netflix’s and we’ll try again tomorrow, so the kids settle down to some dreadful and completely non-educational movie but which makes them laugh a lot.
Tuesday/ Day 2
It was strange sitting watching Boris Johnson announce the lockdown the night before, us on chairs, child one cross-legged on the floor. I had a sudden funny vision of many years from now, she on the chair, smaller people I will never meet on the floor, asking “Grandma, was it really weird when you couldn’t go out?” Mind you, not that Boris is any sort of Churchill – although people in the 1940s probably thought Churchill wasn’t any kind of Nelson or whatever hero national figure they looked up to before Winston arrived. Shaky sense of history here, showing up why I really shouldn’t be home-schooling. Impress upon the children that a lockdown really won’t make much difference to us and will help protect people like grandma.
In the morning, child two and I are up, dressed and breakfasted ready for Joe Wicks but this time it’s child one in a sulk and refusing to join in. Weirdly I really enjoy exercising with my son and hearing all the shout-outs from around the world, knowing there are kids globally doing completely rubbish crunches at the same time, even if Joe does have as shaky a sense of geography as I do of history.
After Joe, I get child two set up on my dad’s old computer, which has updated, and go see child one, who was a sulk because she’s worried about falling behind with school work. She does have a tendency to be too hard on herself so I guessed this would be coming but as it is only day two it’s a little earlier than expected. I try to explain that teachers don’t want her stressed out and working all hours but I apparently “don’t understand”. Pre-teen girls. *deep sigh*
Come downstairs to discover child two cannot get anything done on my dad’s computer. Assume this is because his computer is old and hasn’t updated properly so with a heavy heart give him mine again. Aside from the fact that mine has lots of files on I could do with for work, the keyboard is ancient and all the letters are rubbed off – this doesn’t matter to me as I’ve touch-typed for 20 years but I know this will mean child two asking every two seconds, Where is e? Where is s? Feel actually quite pleased that Google Teams fails to work on my computer as well – it appears that the fact the entire universe of school age children trying to log on at the same time has clogged it up. We get around it by having his teacher email the work, print it out, then photograph it and email it back. This works but is quite time-consuming and I am again not getting much done.
By lunchtime, child two is quite happy to give up and I’m quite happy to let him – he gives himself a Lego challenge and spends the afternoon covering the entire surface of the living room with Lego (that wasn’t actually the challenge). Piano lessons by Skype work although now the piano teacher knows our piano is ancient, a fraction of a tone out and that several of the keys stick. I just hope she gives the kids more credit for it.
By teatime, child one has done well over her normal school day hours but I daren’t say anything as she’s in such a sensitive mood about it. She’s facetiming her friends a lot so hopefully they are all in the same position and that will make her feel more relaxed than ever I could.
Pork shoulder steaks for tea, not something I’d generally cook but choice has been limited. As suspected the meat is rather chewy for my two but I’m quite impressed at how they manfully plough on – perhaps the importance of not being fussy in these times is beginning to work!
Wednesday/Day 3
We all wake up late this morning; guessing the anxious exhaustion is cancelling out the alarm rings. Glad that it’s not a mad scatter to get out for school. One thing I have noticed now there is a bit more time in the morning is how many of child two’s socks have holes in them; there’s toes and heels poking out all over the place. I guess it’s just so part of the normal rush of the day; washed, dried, away, dressed for school, I never actually take the time to look at them. They must be uncomfy I say, why haven’t you told me they are holey? He gives me that blank “why would I tell you something like that?” look.
We do Joe Wicks at 11am, fitting in with PE on child one’s timetable, which she is still determined to stick to. Quite grateful, as I am stiff from the last two days’ workouts. Who knew bunny hops could actually be effective? Quite grateful also that child one hasn’t gone hysterical over sleeping in and thereby missing the beginning of her timetabled “school” day. Getting increasingly cross with the amount of work she’s being given – what is the point? Either kids are trying to do it all and getting overburdened – child one is not stupid and is very conscientious so if she’s overwhelmed others must be – or they are ignoring it, both ways making it purposeless. I would complain to the school but that would horrify her so continue just trying to mitigate the worst effects and tell myself it’s nearly the Easter holidays, surely they won’t set work for then? Child two catches my mood and announces he’s having a day off and is just building Lego today.
Very proud of my efficient use of leftovers – but I guess I actually have the time to contemplate the contents of the fridge and work out what to do with them. The kids normally have a snack before bed and child one loves potato scones so I suggest we use the end of yesterday’s mashed potato and make our own. Child one, who has only ever had McGhee’s, looks at me in astonishment. “Potato scones have potato in them?!” Er, the clue is in the name. “Yes, I know but just because they are called potato scones, I didn’t realise that meant they had real potato in them.” This is a child who has had to spend the whole afternoon doing facts about animals and plants which live on the grasslands biome, knowledge which is unlikely ever to be useful except possibly at a pub quiz in many years to come. *deep sigh* Scones taste good though.
Thursday/Day 4
One of the mums from child two’s class is holding a French lesson with the whole class via Skype (she is a French teacher). Child two is very excited by this, mostly I think because he’ll see the rest of the class rather than at the idea of expanding his French. Whatever, he does the homework for it and has his presentation all ready. Unfortunately the sound doesn’t work on the first computer we try, nothing works on the tablet, and it’s only when we are on the second computer he manages to do his little talk about himself. There is so much noise from excited kids I don’t know how the poor mum manages to decipher anything but it’s a great idea, not least because after the lesson is finished, the kids stay on the chat and pretty soon all I can hear is stuff like “here’s my Nintendo”, “here’s my dog”, here’s my little brother” as devices, furry creatures and surprised babies jump in and out of shot as the over-excited classmates show off their home lives.
Venture to the supermarket for the first time since the lockdown. As my other half is working from home now, I don’t need to take either child which is a relief and my heart goes out to single parents who don’t get that choice. Shopping today is a different experience; for a start I’m trying to stock up to minimise the number of trips as per government advice rather than be parsimonious and leave goods for others. While the shelves are much better stacked now, it’s still impossible to do a shopping list of old and expect it all to be there so I’m still trying to do an ad hoc shop and build meals around what’s available but that’s trickier for a longer period and I find I’m getting confused and wandering around aimlessly. It’s really hard to stay two metres away from folk, especially passing in the aisles and I find I’m unconsciously holding my breath as I go past people. I have no idea if this helps.
Everything feels so unfriendly – somehow it’s hard to make a cheery comment when you are shuffling away from a person as if they smell. It’s like patting your head and rubbing your stomach; the two things just don’t co-ordinate. So the 8pm clap for the NHS workers was very welcome and not just for them. We tentatively stepped out on to the doorstep, half expecting to be the only ones, to find everyone already there clapping their hearts out.
Friday/Day 5
Determined child two will do a good morning’s work after a rather slack, if understandably so, week. He get off one activity – create the tallest marshmallow and spaghetti tower you can – as there is no way I’m wasting precious pasta on that. But he does do facts about an Arctic explorer, a Big Maths timed challenge, his daily maths and art. His art brief is to draw a picture of himself showing how he is feeling. He draws himself in great detail, including Christmas decoration bits hanging off his slippers left over from Slippers for Shelter day in December (we don’t work quickly in this house), with a sad face. “What’s wrong, why are you sad?” I ask in my best parent-concerned-about-coronavirus-anxiety-voice. “I’m sad because I have to do school work,” he says. “Well, it is a school day,” I say reasonably. “No, it’s not because I’m not at school,” is the reply. Every day should be a Lego day in lockdown world.
We’ve been having family movie nights all week, and having endured Ballerina and Missing Link, we say it’s the adults’ choice tonight. We pick Casablanca because it’s a classic we love and it’s OK, rating-wise, for the kids to watch. It’s curiously apt; all those refugees waiting, trapped in Casablanca. Kids aren’t so impressed though; for a start it’s in black and white. “Is this 1980s?” asks child two in horror. By the end they are more forgiving. “It’s not as bad as I thought but it’s not as good as The Angry Birds Movie,” says child two. Roll on the weekend.
