Homeschool diary day 4: Cabin fever is brewing fights about where the tea is kept
Today, I write from the sick house. No school today, as the boys are panned out with symptoms varying from being too sleepy to get out of bed after a ten-hour kip to 'I don't think my legs are working.'
I was swift in my decree of A Day Off School — sure anything from an itchy elbow to a gluey eye these days must be treated with scrutiny.
Is it bad that I am enjoying it? Tempers have been very frayed in this house all week, with the spectre of schooling on top of nine months too long cooped up in this house.
The husband and I are more irritable housemates than a married couple at this point and things like the tea stored in the 'wrong' press are brewing arguments that are not about tea. I'm sure you know what I mean.
It feels good to have a reprieve from one addition to the daily pressure cooker for a small bit.
The kids are sick of it too. This lockdown was unfortunately bookended by a Christmas spent in too-close quarters and we all need a break from each other.
I am not taking a day off homeschool though. Oh no. I have been watching videos about how they do long multiplication. It's far from a 'carry the one' for these modern-day children.
There are extra boxes and columns and brackets. I don't remember this, but to be fair, I found maths so traumatic that I think I blocked out most of it.
Next on my list is conquering 4th Class English. I find myself wondering how I ever got a job as I re-educate myself on parsing sentences.
A swift glance at the parent WhatsApp groups tells me that our sick day came at the right time. Tsunamis of those head-exploding emojis are the communication tool of choice today, it appears.
The sun is shining — which is a good thing — except that the sunlight is dancing on top of the waves of dust that have revealed themselves in my house.
I consider getting out the duster but think better of it after checking the weather — it's only really worth it if the sun is here to stay. And it is not. Thank God. I do not need to be housework-shamed by the weather.
My eldest child peeps his head out from under the blanket where he has been monitoring Ireland's air traffic and keeping an eye on the weather to come. "Cold snap approaching," he intones. "We must stock up on biscuits."
Indeed. We must all stock up on biscuits.