Admittedly, I totally forgot to educate my kids today. Again. We are supposed to log in and watch all the videos the school has made. Although I appreciate the effort, I do think these first few weeks have to be about adjustment. For most of you in the UK, today was your first day of ‘Remote Learning’. It’s full-on, isn’t it? Especially if you have multiple kids. That’s where I was at last week, and on Tuesday I had a massive meltdown and felt really scared of it all. It seemed so much, so soon. School’s cancelled and BAM, we’re supposed to follow a syllabus. I am lucky that Art is only five and the stuff they are asking us to do is minimal. They don’t even learn to read here at five. Which is why I am being quite chilled about it. I am not deliberately trying to hold my kid back. Promise.

The WhatsApp group for Art’s class is alive with swearing. Messages like ‘NO NO NO’ in capitals. ‘FUCK THIS’ or ‘THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE’. ‘My kid hates this’ and ‘I need my computer back’ are on a loop. We constantly question how long this will last. Most of us need to work but we’re having to guide our kids through tasks set by the school. No one can quite believe what we are being asked to do. Remote learning with a five-year-old? That’s as bad as it gets.

The mum group is comforting though, and they’re a fun bunch. It’s nice to know Art isn’t the only one in his class with a parent who is tearing their hair out.

I downloaded Demi Moore’s autobiography, which I listened to in the kitchen while making one of the 638,909 meals I had to make today. It’s good, I recommend it. She’s had a mad old life, and she gets all juicy about her marriages, which is fun.

I hate baking, but I know kids love it. I defrosted some pastry this morning, and the kids rolled it out and we cut it into shapes. Valentine ate raw egg then spat it all over the pastry, then Art and I sprinkled cheese on top. I put them in the oven and they were yummy. Little cheesy parcels. We had them with crisps, so probably have scurvy now, but according to the radio we are all GOING TO DIE anyway, so what does it matter?

Valentine took all his clothes off and pissed in the tent. A horse-like piss, that created a shallow pool that took up the entire tent. He thinks potty training is about finding the most inventive place to take a slash. Anywhere but the goddam toilet, apparently. I put on a really bossy voice and said, ‘Do you want me to put a nappy on you, like a baby?’

He just said yes.