Corona Lockdown week 2: Five ways to spot a mum in family lockdown

Read the rest of my Corona Lockdown diaries here.

This is how I envisage I would be spending my time in lockdown if I didn’t have kids: I’d wake up late, eat whenever I fancied, spend the day watching Netflix documentaries about crazy people who breed tigers and kill their husbands. I might take up some new crafts, do some gardening, bake some bread, paint a wall, fix that leaky tap. Read all the books on my shelf. Maybe sort out my wardrobe and under-stairs cupboard (maybe). Have a lot of baths and relax. Please myself, basically.

Sounds like bliss, right. Lockdown is truly for the childfree.

Now don’t get me wrong, spending time with kids is great, even if the world has gone to shit around us, we are mostly happy here in our little bubble.

But it is definitely hard work.

I have taken on the appearance of a hostage, but one that has been talked at for 14 hours straight.

Here is how you can spot that I’m a mum in family lockdown.

1. The outfit

Pyjamas are now officially day-wear for everyone who doesn’t have to do video calls.

But, alas, I can’t exclusively wear pyjamas all day because I do have to get dressed at some point to walk the dog; after all, getting exercise is important and so is getting away from the kids for five minutes. If the only me-time I’m getting each day involves dragging my reluctant dog around the streets then by god I’m taking it, so leggings it is.

Leggings are kind. Leggings won’t mock you when you’ve gained 10lb because you’re not going anywhere and eating your bodyweight in chocolate.

It’s also much easier to do PE with Joe Wicks in leggings, and they’re pretty comfy for sitting around on the sofa for the rest of the day.

On this note, bras are now entirely optional but do not I REPEAT DO NOT attempt to do PE with Joe whilst not wearing a bra. You have been warned.

2. The hair

So I’ll level with you; I’m really not a natural blonde. In fact I’m not sure what I am any more but whatever it is, I really don’t want to find out… But, just like everyone else, I have NO choice because my roots are coming through and there is not a damn thing I can do to stop them.

It isn’t worth putting the effort into drying or straightening my hair because frankly no one is going to see it, so it’s just a crazy, frizzy, two-tone mess. My eyebrows are similarly shit and all this bollocks about no make up being good for your skin is clearly rubbish as it is no better at all, and all I’m achieving by not wearing it is making looking in the mirror unbearable and scaring the postman.

The shit hair doesn’t just extend to me though; the whole family will soon have awful, lockdown issue home hair cuts. In fact my son is likely to have one sooner rather than later because apparently working from home around the kids without them putting slime in their hair is IMPOSSIBLE.

Who knew.

3. The supermarket etiquette

Everyone knows that online shopping slots are rarer than rocking horse shit (in fact I get seething jealousy every time I see an Ocado van going down the road) so once again, the weekly shop is a necessity.

Mums across the country can be seen skipping gleefully round their local supermarket once a week, because although it means risking catching a deadly virus, it also means one full hour (probably more if you have to queue) away from the kids!

A peek into their trolley will probably give the impression that they’re stockpiling but actually they just have kids who behave like a pack of locusts and that wine is just to get them through the week.

4. The tiredness

Now, anyone unfamiliar with how children work might think that you could use a lockdown to catch up on sleep, right?

Ha.

Bedtimes seem to be moving later and later, meaning to squeeze in any amount of ‘me time’ requires staying up later and later… But for some reason even though we’ve just had a clock change, my kids are still waking up and coming in by 7am. Not as early as it could be, granted, but it doesn’t seem very fair.

5. The recycling bin

Because time no longer has meaning and no one knows what day it is, we almost missed the bin collection this week. I saw the lorry coming up the road and because I was in my PJs (obviously), called my husband (residing in the garden office) to run out with the recycling before we missed it. He said it was fairly embarrassing how much it clinked – especially since our neighbour was standing there openly judging us – but she doesn’t have kids, so…

In fairness I do say every evening that I’ll have a day off from the wine tomorrow but then tomorrow is today, the kids are being kids, and I just thank the lord for wine delivery and promise I’ll have a day off tomorrow instead. Repeat ad infinitum.

Oh, and there are also about 16 billion surreptitiously discarded pieces of artwork and crafts in there, but you’ll only find them if you dig deeply, because kids.

PS my lovely mug was sent to me by Love Layla. It arrived at a time when I was feeling in a right mood and it really cheered me up, so thank you. They are closed right now but they’ll be back when this shit is over and done with.