Almost a whole season in isolation. Seriously. That’s kind of insane. I vaguely remember the start of March and how Hudson’s lingering illness hit us just before COVID-19 was truly a household name, the threads of anxiety tentatively reaching into homes. It feel like another universe.

It was an autumn unlike any other.

At first, there was the panic of battling the confusion and pain this pandemic has wrought upon the world. Like everyone else, I started off spending far too much time refreshing COVID stats, somehow seeking certainty or answers in the rising numbers. It didn’t help.

But we adjusted. Changing our rhythms and schedules. Facing demons in a whole new way. Getting used to learning from home. Dave continued to go to work and he was able to take Eli along with him, which lessened the chaos around the house somewhat.

I realised I’d taken seeing family for granted. Easter was eerily strange. Mother’s Day was abnormally quiet. I loathe Zoom/House Party and the disjointed way of communicating, but it became our only way to all be together. The change in circumstances made me reach out more, deepening connections with cousins and friends – with cooking challenges, twitter check-ins (thanks #6amAusWriters), meme sharing, constant check-ins and venting sessions.

Harvey celebrated his third birthday iso-style, being young enough to hardly realise there is an outside world anymore! We ate ice-cream way too often, let the older two boys out by themselves to ride and scoot around the block, played board games and computer games, pumped up the Kidz Bop and got our dance on.

And then we received the unexpected news that Deda had passed away. I went from having left the house a handful of times in three months, to packing up my belongings, hopping into a car with my family, and traversing the gap between Melbourne and Sydney for the funeral. It was a surreal and incredible time, made all the more meaningful by the fact that only weeks ago, we wouldn’t have been able to go at all. And HUGE shout out to Dave, who not only solo-parented like a boss for three days but also managed to keep the house clean, run a Zoom session with his students and continue with his PhD (with a few helpful meals from his mum!).

Life and death were viscerally intertwined this autumn, but I’m thankful for the lessons I was able to learn along the way. I’m linking up with Emily Freeman to share a few.

1. Iso-life is a Balancing Act

I’m an introvert so this season was a gift for me. I relished the complete removal of pressure to go anywhere or do anything. It was glorious.

Until I went too far.

Is anyone else out there? Why does it feel like I’m completely alone? This season was a constant lesson in course correction. Am I being too insular? Am I reaching out enough?

This blog became a wonderful way to stay connected to people. To work through the chaos as it unfolded and to realise that we are all in this together – whether we can see each other or not. Every time I felt the fear at going out and rejoining the world, I took small steps to stretch outwards again. It wasn’t perfect, but I’m getting better at seeing the signs before it gets too far now.

2. Death is a Bittersweet Experience

When I received the news about Deda, I walked around for the rest of the day in shock. The knowledge of death being inevitable is nothing like that gut-punch when it actually happens. I burrowed into photos and memories, writing my way out of the chaos into a sense of what Deda’s life meant to me and how I could continue to honour his legacy.

But there is something about death that brings clarity. Life comes into sharper focus and buried stories dust themselves off. I learned so much about Deda and his early life in Korčula, Croatia, including some family history that was a complete surprise (like Deda’s father, Jakov, having come over to Australia for the 1920s Gold Rush before being sent home with all the other immigrants when the Great Depression hit). The German occupation of Korčula in the second World War meant that the citizens were left to virtually starve – surviving on cabbage and grass, and strengthening that steel-like resolve in him to make sure his family never, ever had to experience such desperation.

Getting to attend the funeral and spend time with extended family was a privilege I treasured exponentially. Particularly with all that is going on in the world, the chance to be with those we rarely get to see felt like time travel and a warm hug all at the same time. Even the long drive up and back with my immediate family was enjoyable and we managed to squeeze in a cheeky stop in at the Yarra Valley Chocolaterie on the way home.

We are all making plans now to visit the remainder of the Tomasic family who still live in Korčula, and their incredible restaurant Konoba Zaratak which overlooks Adriatic Sea, facing Italy.

3. Homeschooling Sucks Less Than I Thought it Would

I know, I know. Probably not a popular opinion, but I quite enjoyed helping Hudson and Ivy with their remote learning. The school’s system for setting tasks worked well and we soon slotted into a good rhythm that suited Harvey as well. In the breaks they came up with imaginative games and kept shooing me away from interrupting their flow (‘not YOU, Mum – Ivy Mum!’). My status just kept dropping until it was: ‘Oh that’s just the housekeeper, she cleans the place.’)

I actually had the ‘application for homeschooling’ forms printed out at one point. But then I realised continuing to keep Hudson home was more of a fear reaction rather than a love of homeschooling. A day or two later the news came through that he had been accepted into Belgrave Heights Christian School – the place where both Dave and I work and Eli already attends, and where Ivy is enrolled for next year. The final piece of the puzzle slotting into place.

4. Little by Little Makes a Lot

At the end of summer I enrolled in B-School, Marie Forleo’s mind-blowing business course that was intended to kick my butt into gear with our education venture, Teach Smart. Then COVID happened and I wondered how I would ever find the time to actually do the course with everyone home all the time. But a strange thing happened.

Instead of using those two long days where the kids were at school/kinder/daycare, I decided to get up at 5am, do half an hour of writing my Firemaster novel (the second in The Mastery Chronicles series), an hour of writing work for BHCS, and then later on when we all set up for online learning around the kitchen table, I pulled out my laptop and did B-School.

It was so much more efficient! Sure, I had to stop and help the kids navigate issues in Reading Eggs and Prodigy from time to time, but for the most part, I was able to get on with the course until suddenly, I completed it!

Using the cracks and spaces in the day meant that even though it felt like less work, the minutes added up. And the lack of time between sessions meant it was easier to get back in the flow. Definitely recommend this approach if you are struggling with the homeschool/work balance.

5. It’s the Random Things that Get You Through

Whether it’s trying on your wedding dress, logging back into World of Warcraft, or digging into Darrell Lea’s delicious liquorice dark chocolate (that a kind friend dropped around one day and got us addicted to) – life became all about the small things all of a sudden.

In the long hours at home there was time to pick up unusual hobbies (beat-boxing anyone? No? Just me?), get back into music (who knew that I would ever use that flute again?), and mix it up a little (like that time we had home-made donuts for dinner!). I know I’ll look back on these moments with nostalgia when life ramps up a notch and we have places to be again.

What weird things did you get into?

…

Well, autumn. Thanks for that curve ball. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but in many ways you showed us what really matters in life: the importance of family, how habits can make or break us, how connected we are despite our physical distancing and how life has the potential to be more enjoyable when slowed down a notch.

Winter is a strange time to be coming out of hibernation, but I’m looking forward to the gradual opening up of life again. Even in the quick trips to Aldi, I feel a sense of gratitude and a greater connection to others. After all, we are all going through this challenge together.

How did your autumn end up? Did it tank massively or did you find yourself learning a new skill, finding new coping mechanisms and flourishing in the insulating space? I’d love to hear about it!