There are a few things about lockdown life that have brought my needs into sharp focus. Before this whole (waves hands wildly….) ‘thing’ I thought nothing of taking myself off to a coffee shop for a bit of downtime. Just me, my knitting, a coffee and maybe a podcast or a book. Or maybe just a drive out to a farm shop (again - one that served coffee), to a local country park. The destination wasn’t really important, it was just the need for aloneness that I was looking for.

But, in a house with 3 other people 24/7 is proving challenging in ways that I didn’t expect. We are a quiet family anyway. We have always lived at a distance from our family and we are not party people. We are definitely not extroverts, any of us - although my husband is a true ambivert.

The need for alone time is something that we have all really recognised during these last few weeks, and after some fairly spectacular meltdowns (mainly mine) we have come up with a means of trying to make sure each family member gets some time to themselves.

For me, I didn’t realise how much thinking, daydreaming and planning I do during my quiet, alone periods. Walking and being by myself often allows my brain to go off in all sorts of different creative directions. I’ve really noticed how little inspiration I seem to have for anything right now when even taking a few photographs or writing a blog post seemingly can’t happen without at least one interruption and someone looking for snacks. Add in the demands of doing a day job from the kitchen table and it’s no wonder that by 9pm I’m ready for bed.

Indeed, often the only thing that stops me heading for bed when the kids do is the need for an hour to myself - it would be nice to be sufficiently awake to appreciate it.

It has made me realise though, the need to be kind to myself. And to silence my own inner critic. Does it matter if I don’t post on Instagram today? Not in the slightest. Does it matter if my pattern has stalled or that all I’ve done this week is to knit on the same blanket? Nope. I’m the only one who will notice or care.

So I’ve taken to giving myself a big, comfortable permission slip to do whatever I need to right now. And if that means stashing an emergency bar of chocolate behind the big casserole dish in the pantry - to be eaten while playing late night games on my phone - that’s absolutely fine.

And if you are in need of a permission slip for yourself - you are very welcome to borrow mine.