For the past 7 and a half weeks, I have obsessively refreshed my email and constantly checked my kids’ school website just waiting for the note from the district informing us that the kids will be going back to virtual learning. I knew it was coming. In fact, I expected it after the first or second week of them going back to in person learning. So, to have gotten the news this past Sunday was really quite a surprise that they even got to be in person this long. But no matter how much I’ve prepared my mind for the return to virtual learning, it still feels like the gut punch you were bracing yourself for but still hurts. It’s like knowing you eventually have to clean the kids’ bathroom, but there’s no great way to get your patience or stomach ready for the seven-year-old’s terrible aim, the nine-year-old’s habit of leaving everything from hair ties to slime to wizard wands on the sink, and the toothpaste somehow splattered all over the mirror, floor and toilet. I don’t want to clean this disgusting bathroom, but I have to do it anyway. And virtual learning, well, it’s my analogous dreadful bathroom.
The kids were sad when we told them the news. We’ve been preparing them for weeks about this, but surely if the adults in the room are upset about it, the kids will feel it even more. Reese said she was sad and angry that she won’t be with her friends and her teacher for over a month. Evan said he will miss his classmates and teacher as well, but at least we could start up neighborhood recess again (I hear ya, buddy, loud and clear). I texted the moms in the neighborhood that our recess will be back in session when we go virtual, in hopes that there’d be something social for the kids to look forward to. It’s the only thing I could think of that could soften the blow.
My mind started racing once the news settled. How am I going to keep the kids happy and in good spirits, so that their holidays aren’t ruined? How will I sneak their Christmas gifts into the house when they will always be around? How will I finish season 3 of Ozark when I have to help them with their schooling? So many questions! I was clearly well on my way to spiraling. Jamie stopped me, told me to get the idea of “perfection” out of my head, and ensured that it will all be fine. And why does he say that? Because he has noise canceling AirPods and can’t hear shit, so in his mind virtual learning is a piece of cake. Well, it’s shit-filled cake. And it’s smeared all over my figurative bathroom.
In truth, my kids do fine with virtual learning. Both of them can sit in front of their computers, participate appropriately, submit their work, and come out learning something. They just need a little nudge to work hard here and there. And they are fortunate enough to have me at their beck and call since I’m not currently working. Virtual learning is not the hard part of this monster, though. The real challenge is keeping everyone’s mood stable. I’m not even striving for happy, although that would be ideal. I’d be totally satisfied with fair to middling (oh boy, I just became an old ass man using that phrase, I must be reaching a dangerous level of stress). I observe the kids and Jamie so closely to make sure everyone is coping with their stress in a healthy manner, and sweep in to help before things get out of control. It’s a lot of pressure, and it’s kind of ironic that the most unstable person in the house has taken up this responsibility. But maybe because I’m so well-acquainted with the various versions of my own personal crazy, I can spot it from a mile away and help keep my family from reaching my level of insanity. If I could just make certain that Jamie and the kids are feeling loved, supported, and calm, then I could lose my shit on them any time I want and they’ll be able to handle it just fine. It’s a broken system, but a system nonetheless.
At my first job as a PT, I had the opportunity to rotate into different departments every three to six months at the hospital. I remember initially feeling the stress over having to relearn the documentation, reacquaint myself with the staff, and get back to the rhythm of the day. I would tell myself that having a position like this was too stressful and I couldn’t do it. But eventually, I got into my groove and found myself enjoying my time on the unit I was assigned to as long as I could, knowing that it was temporary. The periodic stress of change every few months was a struggle, but I became much more flexible and adaptable to change, more than I gave myself credit for. It became an asset for other jobs to follow because I knew I could be placed in any work setting and be successful. I believe this is the time my kids will learn this same valuable lesson of change and adversity, and coming out the other end stronger and wiser. Sure, my little creatures of habit thrive on consistency, but 2020 is just not the time to find it. And digging your heels into the ground until you get your normalcy back is not the way to survive this either. Despite my frustrations of how the hell we could still be in this situation after 8 months of a pandemic, the shake up and challenge has not been all for naught. We have learned how to find creative and safe ways to quench our social thirsts. We have been forced to find more effective ways to communicate our needs and feelings since we’re together all the time (Evan has learned that kicking Reese in the face is not a form of effective communication). We have had lots of practice to forgive each other and move on. We have learned the incredible value of empathy and how to manifest action from it. And most importantly, we have learned how to be grateful for little and big things alike: amazing teachers who remain caring and consistent in an ever-evolving situation, technologies that enable us to stay connected, family and friends who check up on each other, good weather for outdoor volleyball (even on days when we have to wear five layers of clothes), shitty weather that enable us to chill out at home and watch movies or do puzzles together, a new season of Great British Baking Show, and yes, even noise canceling AirPods, because there needs to be one adult present that isn’t on the verge of a breakdown. With Thanksgiving around the corner, it’s a good time to change the narrative from this being a dark and long winter ahead to a time to practice finding the good in any situation. It’s there, likely behind that shit-filled cake.
So here we go, round eleventy billion of this pandemic. Adrenaline…check. Coffee…check. Booze…check. Halloween candy…check. True crime podcasts downloaded…check. Booze (just in case the first booze runs out)…check. Diffuser with essential oils…check. Will…check. Now, watch me put my foot up ‘Rona’s ass. Gloves up, bitches, I’m going in!
The Mundame 