Home schooling is tough. If you don't believe us, have a read of this from one mum with a handy turn of phrase.
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I CAN'T have been the only one who felt faint and nauseous in the deep pit of my stomach and my psyche, at the thought of round #2 of home-schooling.
The first episode in March last year was nothing short of disastrous. I had just started a new job, my marriage was on the rocks, my pre-teen daughter had just started year 7 at a new school with few friends, little confidence and threadbare relationships with teachers.
At the time, she seemed OK. She hated online learning, that was clear. A social animal who missed the playful interactions with mates in and out of class, she was starved of that input which she thrives on.
But she didn't come tapping me on the shoulder, so I left her to it. Afterwards, we realised how much time she must have been spending on YouTube. We were completely lost as to what she was and wasn't supposed to be doing.
The home-schooling web links were hard to find, the teachers were harder to find, the chat rooms were not operating when they were expected to be. So much work was allocated that many kids, not just mine, gave up in despair.
The youngest child, with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) embraced online learning with so much fervour, it was a little bit frightening. He preferred it, he said, because he could get all of his work done quickly without being under the pressure of the other kids being "judgy".
But it took my then husband and I at least 40 minutes each morning to try to decipher what he was supposed to be doing that day, how to turn work in online, open up all of the relevant tabs, be across the passwords for each of his apps, while juggling working from home and the financial stresses of his business which was drowning fast.
After that daily marathon, the son would emerge after about 10 minutes unsupervised declaring he was "finished".
Meanwhile, my hippy mates were encouraging me to embrace the moment, the opportunity and let the kids run free. They posted photos on social media of their kids running through fields of tulips, cruising around their endless backyards and walks in mountains or beaches.
Notwithstanding that many of those were not working mums, where were the tulips? There are no bloody fields of tulips here, literally or figuratively.
The Gladys Workout
This time, things are better. Even Gladys is, albeit unwittingly, helping out.
The kids are not only betting on how many cases will be announced, or what colour she will be wearing any given day, and creating TikTok dances devoted to her, she is helping out with class activities - PE.
Yep, someone invented the "Gladys workout" - to be done daily at 11am.
It involves two burpees for every time Gladys says "please know", two push-ups for every "come forward", five star jumps for "I can't stress enough", eight high knees for "can I just", three sit-ups for "jabs in arms", three squats for "get tested", four crunches for "restrictions" and one push-up burpee for "August 28".
When a speaker at the daily press conference changes, it's time for a drink of water. When a journalist speaks, it's time for a bit of planking.
While the home-schooling is better this time, there is still tonnes of gaming going on. But there is also some work getting done.
Still no tulips, though.
