Pandemic: what lockdown taught us

As Cyrus straps on his backpack, so excited for the first proper day of school in what feels like a lifetime, I can’t help but pause and reflect. The past couple of years have been… well, let’s call it a “rollercoaster in slow motion.” Pandemic parenting has tested every ounce of patience and sanity in our household, but it’s also thrown up lessons I didn’t see coming.

Family, Persian-style

Let’s start with the obvious: family. Or, as we like to call it, Khanevadeh. In lockdown, when the world shrank to the size of my living room, family became everything. Video calls with relatives who live across continents, cooking Persian dishes with Cyrus (and somehow ending up with half the saffron on the floor), game nights that got way too competitive—these little rituals became lifelines. I realised that family isn’t just about proximity; it’s about showing up, even when it’s through a screen.

The joy of the small stuff

If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be finding joy in baking tiny saffron cookies while my eight-year-old painted stones in neon watercolours, I’d have laughed. But lockdown stripped life down to the essentials, and suddenly, the little things mattered. According to a Busy Bees survey, 37% of parents reported discovering happiness in life’s tiny moments. For me, it was that cup of saffron tea in the quiet of the morning, watching Cyrus’s imagination run riot.

Ultimate sanity saver

The pandemic also reminded us why Tabiat, nature, is the best therapist. Parks, backyards, even a stroll to buy milk became acts of self-preservation. Fresh air has this miraculous way of zapping stress and reminding you that life exists beyond four walls and endless Zoom calls.

Asking for help

Here’s a shocker: 28% of parents leaned on their community during lockdown, and I can confirm it works. Asking for Komak (help) isn’t a badge of failure; it’s a survival tactic. From swapping tips with fellow parents online to borrowing a spare set of crayons from a neighbour, leaning on others made the days feel less like a marathon with no finish line.

Teachers deserve all the applause

And then there are the unsung heroes: teachers and nursery staff. In Persian, we call them Moallem and Nezaratgah, and they deserve gold medals. Their sheer adaptability kept our kids engaged when the rest of us were spiralling. I now bow to anyone who can teach multiplication while simultaneously muting toddlers on a Zoom call.

Perimenopause and parenting

Night sweats, restless legs, brain wired for 3am overthinking… you know the drill. A calming bedtime ritual that bordered on obsessive: herbal tea, dim lights, and breathing exercises didn’t fix everything, but it helped me show up for my family without turning into a sleep-deprived tyrant.

Cyrus returns to school

Watching Cyrus march back into school with excitement was a heart-melting moment. His enthusiasm is infectious, and I catch myself thinking, finally, a little normalcy. Our Madreseh Dar Khane, home school with a Persian twist, was utterly exhausting. But it also reminded me how much I value structured learning and how resilient kids (and parents) really are.

Lessons packed in a backpack

Looking back, pandemic parenting has been a masterclass in humility. We’ve learned to treasure family, not sweat the small stuff, lean on others, and appreciate the quiet heroes around us. As Cyrus heads into his classroom, I’m carrying my own Golchineh Tasvir, a collection of lessons, memories, and deep sense of pride.