Stop Working! I'm O.F.F

I've always been a fully paid up member of the working mums club - well since my eldest son was born in 2012.

I'm ambitious, determined and I love my job. In fact there's always been a pretty blurred line between my life and my job. And it's hard. It's hard to be a career driven working mum.

And then this week I was told due to the devastating effects of Coronavirus, I am being furloughed. Furloughed. Fur.......loughed. Furloughed. Furloughed. Furloughed.

I mean my initial response was "but what am I going to do without my work?" (How embarrassing)

And after I'd finished calming down by blowing in to a paper bag for 20 minutes, I realised that I had to get a grip. Then I started looking down a deep dark tunnel of fear, that this is going to be my life for the foreseeable (pass me the paper bag again someone) Then slowly I started thinking OK. I can either live in my pyjamas every day and eat, (by the way has anyone got any tips on how to "Stay Home, Save Lives, Stop Eating"?), or I could take the bull by the horns and make a success of this.

Hang on a minute. Oh my god. Am I now a stay at home mum? I don't think I can do it! It's too hard!

Oh sorry.....did I just say that out loud?

Many people think wouldn't it be wonderful to be furloughed and single. No cares in the world. Do what you want, when you want. However, I am starting to think that maybe I am the lucky one. I have two boys to look after. To focus on. To wake up and get dressed for. To continue giving my life some purpose whilst I'm O.F.F (On F*****g Furlough)

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End O.F.F

This is the last time I will write to you O.F.F. And can I just say, it's been emotional. It's not good bye, but the change in circumstances means I'll be 'starting over'. Although generally, my boys have taken the lockdown experience in their stride, to me it has become increasingly obvious that my two social butterflies are missing seeing, interacting and engaging with others outside the home. They are so excited about returning to school full time, whenever that may be. As with all parenting decisions, we all have our own opinions on what is best for our children when it comes to returning to school. And for many of us there has never been a choice. Those required to continue their work have had to rely on covid childcare. As we fast approach the school summer holidays, my eldest son will only catch the tail end of term time, and so will return to school for just the final two days of this academic year. Before then, joining his brother and friends for

I am Mixed Race.

I don't have to suffer the daily indignities that many visible people of colour do. But I still have a strong understanding of both the overt and subtle racist abuse that non-white people can suffer. The thing I find hardest about being mixed race, but passing as white, is having the Indian half of me completely dismissed. I was born in England, I grew up in England, most of my friends are here and a lot of my family. So I admit that in my every day life I identify more strongly with my English side. However that doesn't stop me being fiercely protective over my Indian heritage and I won't let anyone deny it. The so-called norm in British society is to be white, and yet, when you aren't white and one side of your heritage is seen as something inferior, it makes you want to celebrate it and stand up for it. Racism in Britain today is different to what it was say, sixty years ago, but the impact of the abuse suffered crosses generations. My Dad is British.

"We're marooned me hearties!"

I woke up - bright eyed and bushy tailed - ready to embrace my inner teacher! Clutching a time table of fun, yet educational, activities planned for the next few days ahead, I was determined to make this work. I had set my alarm - as to me it was essential that me and the kids were up, dressed and ready to roll with Joe Wicks and his P.E lesson at 9am. By 9.37 I was separating two human lion cubs rolling around on top of each other, yelling "stop fighting" in my Miss Trunchball voice (which means I mean business) I'm sure this isn't in my new remit as Home Tutor? I managed to get my eldest son to begin with some simple maths, soon moving on to number bonds. I still don't understand what number bonds are so please do feel free to fill me in. Obviously whilst all this was going on I was fighting with my youngest son to do something. Anything. ANYTHING that didn't involve watching Pirates of the Caribbean. Everything I suggested was met with a stubborn,

Stop Working! I'm O.F.F

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