On Monday morning, around the breakfast table, my husband silently passed his phone over to me. There was an article open, one which announced the beginning of the diplomatic dispute between Qatar and other members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC).
Following that announcement came a day of texts from concerned friends and family asking if we were okay? What was happening?
And with everyone checking in with us, with me, with my husband, I wanted to let them all know one thing – we are okay.
Whilst I am unsure around the politics of the matter, of what will happen next, what I do know is that, as a family, we are okay.
I write this with my husband at work, my four year old at school and my two year old in nursery. Later on I will go and collect my children, bring them home and take them swimming in the pool. Following that I will head down to a circuit class before coming home to a pot of Mongolian Beef bubbling in the slow cooker.
Life, for us, is carrying on as normal.
Life, in Qatar, appears to be carrying on as normal.
What seems to have changed is on a diplomatic level, one which I understand little about nor would I try to explain.
Flight paths have changed, land borders have been closed. Yet life here? For us? Continues on as normal.
As we receive more concerned messages from family and friends around the world, from those who are in Dubai and those who are in the UK, I feel the need to tell them that we are okay.
We are safe.
Life is going on, business as usual.
The sun rises on a new day, the boys wake up (far, far) too early and we set about going on with our normal everyday life.
That’s not even particularly interesting.
Cooking and eating.
MetaFit and running.
Watching the tv.
Yes I am actually reading the news a little more closely, it’s difficult not to seeing as my Facebook feed is filled with updates about the current diplomatic crisis here. And that is my go to news source (lucky for me my husband reads the real news and breaks it down for me)
My fridge is stocked, but no more than usual, despite the feeling of panic earlier this week. The shelves in the supermarket are not empty, at least they weren’t yesterday when I went to pick up some milk.
My flights are still booked for our mass summer exodus to escape the dust, and Qatar Airways are still flying to Birmingham as far as I can see.
Life is carrying on.
We are okay.
The sun rises. The sun sets. We wake up. We go to bed.
I trust that this will be resolved. I have faith that it will be to everyone’s liking.
And until then? We are okay.