I Am Without WiFi and I Don't Know How to Parent
Our household has been without WiFi for a week now.
We're moving, you see, and our internet provider turned our phone off two and a half weeks earlier than we asked them to. Apparently it takes two weeks to get an engineer to switch a phone line back on and so *raises hands in the same gesture of helplessness our internet provider did* we're making do without until we're in our new home.
Our internet provider (who I'm granting anonymity because of past customer service brilliance) has bought us a month's access to BT Hotspots to make up for it. Alas, BT Hotspots are only marginally faster than walking around all of your homes - including the ones in Canada - posting print outs of this blog post through your letterboxes, so *gesture of helplessness again*.
Anyway, yes, no WiFi. This is a bit of a problem because it's hard to fill in online change of address forms if you can't get online. It's a bigger problem because we use the internet for our TV and we use the TV to pacify our children a good bit more than we're supposed to.
This week, we have resorted to letting them watch a DVD of The Care Bears Movie and let me tell you: it is not as good as I thought it was when I was seven. Although it does have some catchy songs. Look out they're after you / It's a nightmare coming true - wholesome child-friendly stuff like that.
Of course, we do have data allowances on our phones. Steve's is pretty decent so I've been using his mobile as a hotspot in the evenings, pretending to do "official moving type stuff" when I'm really browsing paint colours on the Dulux site. But, firstly, I'd feel a bit guilty if I used all his data up on Instagram and, secondly, he keeps going off to the office and taking his mobile with him (so selfish).
My data allowance is tiny because I am a stay at home parent who is almost constantly within reach of our router. One gig a month is enough to check WhatsApp in the park, and I'm usually a bit cocky about only paying £15 for my phone. More fool me, eh?
Anyway, what I would like this blog post to be is a smug, totally zen recounting of the week the kids and I spent bonding over board games. It would be full of statements like, "3yo now has a reading age of 73" and "6yo has written a thesis comparing the merits of rainbow coloured nursery toys with the beigeness of Montessori."
That is not the week we had. The only thing I learned this week is that the impulse to check my emails hits me roughly every nine minutes. I'm aiming to have pushed it up to twelve minutes by the time the fortnight is up.