Heading into a level four lockdown was a pretty simple process for my family this time around - bearing in mind no one in our house was trying to shut down a business or travel the length of the country to get home.  

There was a scramble to find computer chargers and wine; the rest we decide to leave to chance; including a car which broke down on Tuesday evening – thank you to the AA for coming to my rescue on Wednesday.  

The first hour after you learn you’re going into a lockdown is a mix of emotions; led by disappointment as each member of the family calculates how it’s going to impact them. A silent tear fell down my daughter’s face as she realised her dance exams wouldn’t take place this week, and that inter-school sporting competition AIMS, which she’s been working so hard towards, will more than likely be effected for the second year in a row.  

You could see the pain on my teenage son’s face as he realised two of the most important things in his life, sport and mates, were being replaced by being with his family 24/7. ‘This is bad’, he murmured.  

My partner braced himself to work from the kitchen table where he’d be asked on an hourly basis, “what’s there to eat?” 

And for me, a rare weekend away in Wellington to celebrate my oldest friend’s significant birthday is now just phone calls about cancellations and credits.  

But you know what, it is what it is, and when we consider the big picture none of this matters.  

Disappointment was quickly brushed aside with the realisation we could all sleep-in the next morning and no one would know we’d just roused ourselves in time for our first Teams or Zoom meetings of the day.  

As we quickly relaxed into this familiar lockdown routine I hit a snag. It wasn’t the basketball smashing through the kitchen window - that’s to be expected in lockdowns. It was the realisation I had nothing organised for my partner’s birthday - which was yesterday. I don’t think I will be the only one around the country facing this dilemma.  

I sat down with the kids and said, we have no presents, we don’t have access to Dad’s favourite Thai restaurant, and this will be the second year in a row he’s had a lockdown birthday. Let’s make this happen.  

It’s amazing how you can find presents around the house. I wrapped up the books that have been sitting by Tim’s bed for months now waiting to be read. For just a moment, he actually thought they were new books.  

My daughter wrapped up the Amazon Alexa which I had been sent recently, with a card saying, “Finally a woman in the house who will listen to you”.  

My son chose small sporting trophies from his shelves and replaced them with humorous versions like “Father of the Year” and “Most valuable family member”. Tim received a participation citation in the Father of the Year category, and a minor placing for "Most valuable family member”. They were instantly shared online.  

To top things off, our lovely neighbour is a florist and dropped a beautiful bunch of flowers on the doorstep, which we quickly pretended we’d organised for the birthday. While also aware they’re a sign of how much businesses will suffer due to this lockdown.   

With the supermarket our only real go to we decided to treat Tim’s birthday like a child’s. We organised an elaborate treasure hunt, and I can confirm my children’s inability to find things comes 100% from their paternal side. We laughed at Tim trying to find his treasure as much as he laughed at Jeremy Clarkson trying to be a farmer in the TV show Clarkson’s Farm – which was our afternoon viewing.  

Sometimes, the birthday’s you have the least expectations for turn out to be the most memorable.  

Our situations are all unique and have different stresses and concerns, but I hope in amongst it all you find something to share a laugh with someone over.   

Sometimes it’s the only medicine available.