Yesterday should have been the day that I got to see my incredible class. It should have been the day my children returned to school.
Instead it was the day where for the second time in as many months I held my son as he wriggled and screamed whilst we made him have a test for the virus. Another day, another temperature, another test.
As I look today, with unexpected time to reflect, it’s hard to think of how much has changed in the past few months. How much of what we took for granted, expected, wanted is no longer reality.
I am so tired of constantly nagging my children not to touch, not to get too near, of reminding them that life is not how it was not so very long ago.
I do not want to be the mum I am today.
I want to be the mum I was this time last year.
The mum who took her children for days out. The mum who let them touch, explore and play. The mum who planned excitedly for upcoming events.
I want to be the mum who was working hard to get her children to go nearer to others. Not the one who tells them to stay away.
I don’t want to be the teacher who sits her class in rows, whose first thought in planning lessons is ‘is it COVID safe’.
I want to be the teacher whose children sit in groups, who encourages interactivity. Who plans lessons that focus on how well I can get my pupils to engage.
I do not want to be the woman who doesn’t make plans, because she knows the cancelling of them will not be worth the inevitable fallout. The woman who rejects invitations to meet friends and family, because she knows that for her family social distancing just doesn’t work.
I want to be the woman who is planning her next trip, her next adventure, her next mission. The woman who wants to meet family and friends and share joys with them.
But most of all…
Most of all I want to go back, to realise just how precious everything we had was.
I want to relish seeing people when I wanted to, without fearing that I couldn’t keep them safe. I want to hug my grandad and enjoy how good that feels.
I want to travel as much as I can, soaking in the sights. I want to watch the delight on my children’s face as they hug Mickey Mouse or splash in the pool.
I want to enjoy days out and realise how lucky we are to have them, to be able to see new things and have those experiences.
I want to teach the most exciting lessons I can dream of, and wash our hands just once a day before lunch.
I want to appreciate all those things as the marvels they were, to soak them up and be sure that my children do too.
Because now, more than ever, you realise that the biggest miracles were the ordinary things, the things we took for granted, the things we didn’t even notice.