Surely this is just a phase

By Alexia Saleem

Lockdown feels very different this time. The first time I actually really enjoyed it. It was an opportunity to take things easy and to breathe. A time to reconnect with oneself. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.

The fact that my kids had just turned four also meant they didn’t need me 24/7 and were happy keeping themselves entertained most of the day. It must be pretty awesome to get to hang out with your best friend all day, every day oblivious to the concerns and stresses of the adult world.

My ability to not feel stressed was to a large degree because of a self-imposed media blackout. We just didn’t read the news, listen to the news, watch the news. We kept ourselves to ourselves and didn’t go out, except for our daily walk. The kids knew there was this thing called coronavirus, but they didn’t know much about it. We didn’t have to wear masks the way we do now, so they weren’t really phased by what was going on.

As the year has gone on though, and masks have become a permanent fixture, I can’t help but wonder what sort of world our kids are growing up in. I’ve also started following the news. It’s like a drug. It sucks you in and before you know it Covid updates are popping up on your phone. You also have friends and family who have been infected. Some have even died.

My kids have started asking me if they can get coronavirus and will they have to wear masks when they’re big. I’ve told them they won’t, although who knows what the world will look like then.

This time round they are also more stressed about the curfew. The first time they didn’t notice it. Probably because we were unphased by it. Now I find myself wanting an ice cream at 8.50pm and wondering is it worth sending a text and making a mad dash to the shops just because I fancy a magnum? Do I risk venturing out and being late home? What if I get fined? The kids think the police want our money and we will get in trouble. Although my son says the ambulance will get us. My daughter corrects her brother and says it’s the police. She also informs him that they will want a lot of money if we are caught out beyond 9pm. I’m not sure who she has overheard. Probably me when I wanted them to get their skates on one evening on our way home from a walk.

And yes, my kids are up after 9pm. Routine is non-existent these days. I dare not say what time they go to bed. It’s very late, and I’m sure I’ve read somewhere you should be getting to sleep before midnight. They do still get their 12 hours but I’m sure our homelife these days would raise a few eyebrows. I try not to judge myself. But it’s hard.

As for their diet, well let’s just say it’s not quite what it was during the first lockdown. We kept super healthy the first time round. Lots of greens and pulses. These days we practically have Toronto pizza on speed dial and pasta features regularly for dinner. The kids also think Weetabix and Bran Flakes are a complete meal. They’re not wrong. It’s got dairy and vitamins and carbs and protein. My mother, who does childcare for me twice a week, is concerned they aren’t eating properly. They look super healthy to me. They also get plenty of fruit. My daughter lets me know when we have run out of her faves: kiwi, pear, apple and banana. My son would love watermelon and passion fruit but is satisfied with canned pineapple. He’s got a sweet tooth.

Still, I’m not complaining. It sounds as if I am. I’m just tired. Like a lot of people. What sort of world are our children growing up in? I look around at infants and wonder what it must be like for them. I remember when mine were babies I read how important it was to make eye contact and to smile. These days babies are learning how to read eyes for they don’t see smiles. I have actually whipped my mask down to smile at babies but interestingly get a blank stare back. Almost as if they are confused that someone outside their homes has teeth.

My kids are actually having a blast. Pyjamas days are more frequent and they’ve turned the churchyard across the street into their own private playground. Their seven-year-old cousin joins them. They have also learned how to manipulate me into cooking for them at all hours because “there are starving kids in the world and parents are supposed to cook for their kids and you’re not cooking for us”. Again, where that came from, I do not know.

I am going to trust this is a phase. All of it. Lockdown. Covid. And our lifestyle this time round. I’m trying not to beat myself up too much. So too this shall pass, and all will be well.