I have been hoping that at some point in the last four months I would suddenly realise that I am enjoying it and that I am one of those people who loves running. That moment hasn't come. I also don't seem to have suddenly been bestowed with the ability to run for any amount of time, which I also thought would suddenly appear. I thought that once I 'cracked' it, I'd be able to run for hours, or until I got bored, whichever came first, and look like the other runners I see who look like they could run to Scotland in a day and not be affected, but sadly that is still not the case. I can keep going until I lose the battle of my body and brain and they both have a quick meeting (zoom obviously) and conclude that enough is enough and they need to put an end to this madness before I collapse. However, I keep on going out and doing it again. And that feels like a win, and that is what I enjoy.
Having said that, thanks to the loss of my running leggings after forcing a child to help with at least some of the sodding endless household chores (I accidentally wrote househole which is actually a far more accurate description of my home right now) and two unfortunate accidents for the little ones on my last two runs, I had put off going for nearly two weeks. (A lot of twos there). And then on Thursday afternoon I walked in to find my kitchen table looked like this:
There's quite a bit to unpick in that picture. Did you clock the hay in a cardboard box under the table? That was one of the many toys no. 4 child made for the guinea pigs. There were two more home made cardboard toys in the fridge which contained leafy vegetables as well as hay (lucky me!) There were old socks stuffed with hay that are now with the guinea pigs. There was a lot of hay out of sight on the floor and in other random places as it must have travelled on the feet of the small people in to other rooms. The glue was part of the great slime experiment of 2020. That glue was on handles, headphones, light switches, tv remotes, the bath and most annoyingly, in their hair. The paint was used to decorate our salt dough creations to hang on our 'occasion' tree which was looking sad and lonely as it was now bereft of easter eggs. There was a lot going on at once. My brain boiled over. What with the constant demands for food and attempting to catch everyone before they grab another piece of fruit or forage in the treat cupboard for biscuits (or biscuit crumbs because a more enterprising sibling has got there first) and the nagging doubt that I was doing a particularly shoddy job of parenting now that my Lockdown Lethargy was at its peak, it wasn't hard to see why I had had enough.
One of the accidents that happened during a run was due to some fairly shitty parenting on my part. Normally I can brush off my crappier parenting and forget it and move on, but just before Easter I went for a run (managed my PB which was very exciting) and upon my return I was greeted with the news that my youngest, at 4, had decided to heat up her own hot chocolate in the microwave after I had left, and had made the liquid scalding hot. She then attempted to drink it. Luckily she spat it out but the burns to her lip and tongue were fairly bad and after an hour of trying to console her and cool the area down, she was still screaming if the cold drink or ice were removed from the affected area. 111 advised we went to A and E and the gut twisting guilt of how crappy I had been to leave a 4 year old for half an hour was now going to have to be explained further afield. She wasn't 'alone'. There were plenty of people in the house, even her father who had been upstairs at the time, but no one was actually with her at the time and I hadn't alerted anyone to the fact that she needed supervision because, she doesn't usually. With this number of people in the house, she is confident enough for me to leave and for her to find another human if she needs anything. However this time my luck ran out (pun intended) and she could have been seriously injured which was quite sobering. Once we got to the hospital, the shock of everyone wearing masks gave her something else to worry about and when she was gifted her very own mask, she pretty quickly didn't need the cold drink on her lips constantly and the doctor swiftly assessed she was fine to go home as she was in no real danger. (Luckily spitting it out had meant that she wasn't likely to have any swelling in her throat causing difficulty breathing which is I think, why we were told to go up there). I bought her a big chocolate bunny
However, thanks to me getting over it sufficiently to go on my life saving run, some antibiotics for my diseased and rather painful leg, some time without the little ones, and the return of my normal brain, my house is now back under control. You can see the floor in ALL rooms. And the kitchen table is clear and clean. K is now officially furloughed so is no longer observing strict working hours in the study, so he is (technically) now on hand to help all day every day (in reality he has already found two projects outside that desperately need his undivided attention and annoyingly, actually need doing) but at least he can drop those in order to remove the younger ones from my side for a few hours at a time on various outdoor pursuits. I feel as if there may well be an end in sight as talks of easing lockdown restrictions are mooted and I have even managed to steam clean the grout in my kitchen. SUCH JOY. It is hard to put in to words, such is the pleasure I derived from it. The whole floor now looks lighter and the entire room feels cleaner. FYI steam is an excellent way of removing glue from everything as well - floors, tables, handles, bins, baths etc. I am now a massive steam fan.
When I was a young teen (or thereabouts) my mum drove me to my piano teacher's house for a lesson (this was abnormal as she usually came to our house) the teacher was so excited when we arrived as she had JUST ordered a device from Lakelands or similar, that would stir things in the microwave whilst simultaneously heating said liquid. She talked of how baked beans would no longer be cold in the middle and hot on the outside and her eyes sparkled and her smile, which was ordinarily large, was huge. I was agog. Not only did we not have a microwave at home so I hadn't a clue what she was on about, but I was also absolutely amazed that anyone could be so incredibly dull that the imminent arrival of a baked bean stirrer would excite them. Yesterday, as I would NOT SHUT UP about my clean grout and the general joy of steam, I became aware that *this* was my baked bean microwave stirrer. I thought finally cleaning my kitchen floor grout would pull me out of my 'rock bottom' moment but weirdly, it has catapulted me in to another sort of rock bottom. I have finally reached peak dull.
I may post before and after pictures if you're very good. Because I'm fairly sure we're all at peak dull now so you'll probably appreciate it. For now, you can appreciate our Saltdough Homage to Lockdown:
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