Amy’s school sent out her school work packets last week and hers arrived today. It’s the second packet of work to arrive for her since we pulled them out of school three weeks ago. It came with a letter, basically asking us not to fight with our kids if they’re struggling with hard copy work, and reminding parents it’s more important our children and teenagers feel loved and supported during a pandemic.
Basically, here’s some school work to help, but at the end of the day, everyone is missing work and we will catch up when we’re able to return to a semblance of normality. Do not fight over this.
I like this mentality. It’s a pandemic. If I’m feeling anxious, my kids are too, and we all need to be gentle with each other as we live through this. It’s baby days yet, and likely to get worse.
But it’s also technically school holidays now, so we’ve got three weeks until anyone even needs to think about schoolwork properly.
I’m reminding myself that adding to my own workload (mental, or physical) is not sensible right now, so trying to do a whole colour-coded learning system is probably not my best use of energy.
I hope this information helps you too.
——
I cut a chunk out of my finger/nail. In hindsight, I may not have been awake enough to be chopping veggies for the cockatiels with my newly sharpened knife, and here we are. Typing incredibly awkwardly. I tried taking the dressing off but it hurt too much, so now my finger just gets to sit in the air while I type like a useless sausage.
It will remain to be seen if I can still make soap (probably) although packaging cured soaps might be out for a day or two. Probably no pumpkin soup for dinner either.
In other news, my baby quail are almost ready to move out of the brooder (hurrah) and I just now need to decide whether I’m going to sell them, or fill my own freezer. I’m paranoid about other people right now, so they may end up in my freezer. Pandemics, not so great for the economy.
We’ve still got a few chickens laying, which is a huge relief, and enough roosters I can fill my freezer if I need to. It doesn’t take much to return to poverty planning, counting the extra roosters, working out the best use of freezer and garden space, dialling back and hunkering down.
I’m grateful to have these options, but chickens have never been a frivolity for me, they’re a back up plan, an emergency ration. Just because they’re also pretty and funny does not change why I got them in the first place.