Last week saw the UK finally announce it had passed the peak of the virus and I am ready to party. However, as my emotions of relief, excitement, confusion, and anxiety wash over me, I am reassured that the worst has passed and therefore some state of normality might return soon. Therefore, the government’s advice to continue as we are for now, makes me nervous. Nervous, that if I had thoughts of the old normality, so were others, and that others might not wait for the government’s advice and so we could come into a second wave of the virus.

But life is going on and must continue to go on. This is the week I have been longing for, waiting for, for let’s see around 40 weeks. Yes, this week I become an aunty again. Now, just because it is the second time doesn’t mean I am any less excited.

It’s Tuesday night and I can’t sleep. My sister-in-law is in labour and I feel nervous, apprehensive, and disappointed. I keep trying to put it in perspective that other expectant mothers and their families the world over are going through the same thing. Yet, how could I not worry? There has after all been expectant mothers and babies born with Covid-19! Then there is the fact, what kind of a world are they being born into? In the current climate, I can’t help but feel disappointed that the most contact I will get with my new niece or nephew will be over a video call. I am longing before the baby arrives to hold them in my arms. I guess, all I can do is hope that soon I can and will hold them close. But for now, I can see them over video and through the dozens of photos that are just waiting to be taken any minute now.

Wednesday morning has arrived and regardless of the hour I have decided to text my brother to wish them well and ask for the expected news of an arrival. I am not disappointed; within minutes he phones me to announce I have a beautiful healthy niece. I am so relieved and well aware I sound like a crazy aunty. I can’t stop congratulating them both and checking up on their health. With the promise of a video call to follow soon, I hang up ecstatic at their news. Regardless of Covid-19, a miracle has happened once more, making me one proud aunty again. Now, if only I can keep this feeling of joy, optimism, and love for the rest of the week.

It doesn’t last. Its evening and I feel rushed to get last minute arrangements for tea, Scout preparation and housework complete. And with it, if you hadn’t already guessed a domestic is looming. The bites were small at first more of a gnaw, but now they are a full-blown tyrannosaurus rex bite that might take off a limb. A heated discussion over nothing, complaining over jobs not done, equality of jobs in the home – need I go on? Anyone in a long-term relationship has heard it all before. And now it has passed we are laughing about the fact we argued over nothing – again. As my Mam says, ‘It’s the sign of a healthy relationship, you’ve seen your Dad and I have our moments’. True as this may be, it doesn’t mean I like arguing. So let’s just promise to chill for the rest of the week. It is after all a four-day working week, with VE day bank holiday on Friday.

The four-day working week has flown over and I am glad to report no more – okay some biting, but I keep the t-rex at bay. Today I realise how well the dog is doing. Lady our fur baby, who cannot understand why we don’t go out regularly during the day anymore. And more specifically what she is doing home during the day, when she would normally be at my parents. Worst of all is when we do take her out, she cannot say hi, sniff butts or get close to any other canines. I feel so guilty and her puppy eyes melt me into fussing her regularly and talking to her through what is going on. Yes, I am one of those Dr Doolittle types, the people who talk to animals and believe they understand. But at the very least I feel better when I do it. Today, to fill the slot of the old midday walk, Lady and I are playing a mixture of games. Her favourite by far is to fetch treat ball, sometimes she brings it without being asked and other times I fill it with treats to distract her when I’m in the middle of a job. Of course, the motivation is food. But she does enjoy other games, she will often bring me toys to pull, throw and hide. Her tail flying in the air as she tugs, catches, fetches, or hunts out a hidden toy.

But if we are honest the dog is happy as long as she is by my side. This morning she is staying close by lying stretched out on our bed head on my pillow. However, as I enter the kitchen and open the freezer it is like an instant dog whistle. There she is poised on our single step waiting to see if any treats might come her way. Now it’s not that I don’t treat her, but I am not a fan of begging, so I try to ignore the Oliver look from the step. She is just so distracting while I am busy in the kitchen prepping, cooking, or tidying.

Today I am in the freezer getting out mince for a big chilli. Mmmm, I can’t wait. I love to freeze food: often we buy it in bulk, on mix and match offers, from the reduced section or just not used in time so ends up frozen. I see it as a great way to be prepared, while saving on money and waste. But now I am thinking I have it all wrong. We had planned to make up a chilli for two nights, so I take out two bags of mince to defrost. Right and yet so wrong. What I actually have is a bag of pork mince and one of beef mince, so now we are making up two different meals. If only I had spotted sooner, but you see we have no time to cook tomorrow with work then Scouts.  So, here we are feeling like a restaurant cooking up two meals and trying to decide which one to eat tonight. In the end the decision is easy whichever one is ready first. So, the winner is chilli loaded chips for tea tonight and pork pasta tomorrow. After that food drama I am off to escape into TV.

We have watched some great TV during lockdown. Escape lockdown through TV series I am sure it sounds familiar. Heist, Batwomen, casualty: all very thought provoking and a welcome distraction from reality. I can play around in my head with what ifs secure in the knowledge it is fiction. Last weekend casualty had to miss an episode as the content was of a too sensitive nature at the minute. Everything seems to come back to Covid-19, can we get no peace from it?

Luckily Friday has arrived and brought an escape, a journey back 75 years to VE Day. Victory in Europe, the end of fighting in Europe and a day of celebration. While, 75 years later here we are still trapped in our homes. Yet, BBQs fill the air as I float through the streets on my daily walk, even Lady is licking her lips at the smell. I should add this is nothing unusual, I often wonder if the reason she likes her walks so much is because she thinks she is out at an all you can eat buffet. Honestly, I know she is a retriever, but the things she can sniff out, often have my heart pounding with worry and end with my hands in her mouth retrieving the who knows, how old, mouldy item. Yack – I know.

But my real lockdown woes are more at others. It annoys me to see discarded masks and gloves, that have started appearing littering the streets these last few weeks. A reminder that people are picking and choosing which government guidelines to follow – littering is obviously now allowed. Worse still, I have developed path rage. A new term, I have coined with fellow work colleagues, to mean the rage you feel when fellow path users make no attempt to adhere to the two metre social distancing rule. I can understand parents to an extent might struggle to move young ones over to one side. But I cannot excuse the young and old people I have had to step onto, or cross the road from, as they come within my two metre bubble parading down the centre of the path. Path users, has become another term that I now use lightly, as when did it become okay for grownups to cycle on the path flying along like they own the path? I guess I am not alone in my path rage, that has filled the void of road rage I used to feel sometimes in the car. But I am barely out in the car anymore, I can count on one hand the times I have been in a car these last few weeks. My new favourite mode of transport is walking.

However, I’m back from my walk, the sun is shining, the weather is hot, and I am loving this new bank holiday Friday. I am dressed for the occasion in a Polka dot dress for the 11am silence, enjoying a scone, and feeling a sense of pride as I watch the Queens speech. The perfect day of remembrance. Yet, the news and broadcast commemorative events keep drawing parallels to the current cruel enemy we are fighting. Well I did try to keep optimistic and so have decided not to draw parallels to WW2s six years of horror.

Sunday has arrived and I am glad I made the most of the good weather, it is blowing a gale and the rain is pounding off the ground. In a clearing in the clouds, Lady and I have shot out. The bitter cold wind is blowing through me like the dead of winter, but as I reach into my pockets, I am relieved by my laziness, in my pocket are gloves. We don’t stay out long and get home in time for today’s government update. The roadmap to the way ahead, but only ‘if’ the data allows, suggesting this plan could see us gain freedoms that are quickly retracted. The government’s new Covid alert level system that looks a bit like the chilli rating at Nando’s, will decide the measures we follow and the severity of the restrictions. From Wednesday we can go out unlimited for exercise, sit out in the sunshine or drive for fresh air. We can meet outdoors one person outside of our household keeping the two metre social distancing. The best part by far is the unlimited access to outside exercise that Lady and I have been missing.

Surely the changes mean we are coming out of this. However, with Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales not following the new recommendations this week, I can’t help but think, is this the right thing to do? Will I be safe? Should I be wearing a mask and gloves in shops?