Our walks under Lockdown had been filled with smiling strangers respectfully keeping their distance, teddy bear hunting, and sidewalk chalk saying, “Be Kind”. I hadn’t noticed how still it had become during Level 4 until there was traffic racing past my windows again. It’s been easy to wish for things to go back to normal.īut the morning we entered Alert Level 3, I felt my perspective change. People I love are losing their jobs, having mental health struggles in isolation, and are terrified for family members overseas. He’s awake at 4am crying because I might leave just like his nanna and all the other adults that he used to see every day before Lockdown (his idea of bubbles involves more soapy water). I’ve been practicing explaining why he can’t play on the slide when we’re so close to the playground. Emmet just learned to say “airplane”, and suddenly there were no more in the sky to point to. Aiming to do better at either is a tradeoff, and that is it.įor all of us, things changed fast. I’ve been frantically trying to do two full-time jobs at once, feeling the deep guilt and exhaustion of not performing well enough at work or childcare. I haven’t been baking, or learning a language, or deep-cleaning our flat. The times at the end of the day where I just needed an adult conversation and to leave my house. The time we had a ‘post-shower nappy-free incident’, and I had to hose down Emmet and myself, clean the carpet, and stop him from gleefully running back through it, all with one set of soiled hands. The times we ran out of milk and I couldn’t just nip to the shop. It’s the little things that build up and get to you. While I’m incredibly lucky to be safe, securely employed, housed, and cared for (from afar), there have been moments of full-blown meltdown. I just watched Tom Foolery’s poem the Great Realisation, and it made me think.Īs a working solo mum to a toddler, Emmet, Lockdown hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.
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