What I hope my kids learn from this coronavirus quarantine experience

Domicile "schooling" during Covid-19

The lessons one mom hopes her children accept from this time have nothing to do with school

Apr. 01, 2020

I've always wanted to be a mom. As a teenager, I imagined I would have 3 kids: one daughter and two boys—who would of form be fiercely protective of their sister—and they would share an unbreakable bail.

I would be a working mom—fifty-fifty then I knew that I was not cutting out to exist a homeschooling momma—and we would live happily ever after.

Of course life did every bit life does, and took my plans and rearranged them. I did end upwards with iii kids—two girls and one boy; they practise have an unbreakable bond. And until recently I was not a homeschooling parent.

Until Covid-nineteen, I had a pretty specific idea of what it meant to be an academically responsible parent: ensuring my children knew I took their academics seriously. Communicating with their teachers regularly. Providing additional support at habitation for any area that needed strengthening. And making sure my kids participated in extracurricular activities that piqued their interest.

As a mom of three, I operated this organization like a well-oiled car, and I found significant validation in just how well I managed such a hectic routine.

I don't desire my children to remember this as the time when their whole world changed, and their mom was raging with acrimony because she was so concerned with making sure they didn't "fall behind" academically.

And then my kids' school airtight, along with the rest of the country, and I quickly embraced a new perspective of not but "academic responsible parenting" but parenting in general.

Every bit my children'southward school scrambled to provide thoughtful and engaging virtual assignments, I scrambled to figure out exactly all the things nosotros would demand to function basically 24 hours a day vii days a week in our house together.

As I worked to check off the list of things to attain everyday—food, activities, hygiene, school work, etc.—I institute myself overwhelmed. To make matters worse, I was overwhelmed over something that I could do very lilliputian about, except surrender.

This is a pivotal moment in my children's lives, and how I respond now will greatly affect how they remember this moment in history. I accept come up to realize I don't want my children to remember this equally the time when their whole world changed, and their mom was raging with acrimony because she was so concerned with making sure they didn't "fall backside" academically.

That'south why, in our firm nosotros are washed with school for at present.

Instead, we are creating our ain new routines that work for where we are now. That routine looks different for each of my children, ages ten, 6, and iii, but there are a few staples that are included for everyone.

Collectively nosotros are taking walks through our neighborhood. Sometimes we bring chalk, and "tag" the streets with kind words for whomever may walk by.

Sometimes our walk leads us to Carpenters Woods; we blow bubbles and they look upwards toward the heaven and comment on how small they feel compared to the trees.

We take dance parties (something that was already a staple in our home prior to the lockdown), as well as "affirmation speeches" in which the kids individually stand on the sofa or bed or chair and yell out how crawly they are and how much they are loved. And in that location are lots of family movies.

For all the bonding these activities create, unexpectedly being with my kids 24 hours a mean solar day, vii days a calendar week is too draining. So in the midst of all the family fun I'm intentionally cultivating, I'm also trying to find petty ways to escape.

We are all learning to cope. Simply not merely cope; we are learning how to live nether these new conditions and be happy, not just normal. Because normal no longer exists.

Normally that is a daily walk, alone, for near an hr. On one of my most drained days, I took a new approach to the "family meal." Instead of all us gathering around the table breaking breadstuff over large dishes, I instead washed a big bowl of grapes, fabricated lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, poured a bowl full of fries, cut apple slices and made cups of water. I placed all the food in the eye of the dining room table and told them to eat it whenever they felt hungry, and non to inquire me for more food until dinner time.

And then, we are all learning to cope. Simply not simply cope; we are learning how to live under these new conditions and be happy, not just normal. Because normal no longer exists.

We aren't going to try and navigate how to nearly homeschool three kids, while simultaneously working from abode and tending to all the things that make a house a home.

I've found a lot of beauty in this uneasy time at home, and I'yard grateful to fifty-fifty be able to write those words. Perhaps that part of me that was then proud of how well I managed to juggle an over-scheduled routine is grateful to have a "valid" reason to only stop.

Though nosotros are done with schoolhouse until the buildings reopen, my children are learning more than valuable lessons. Similar what information technology really takes to adapt to change. That they are, truly, each other's first best friends. When they each need space, and when they need community. And that if given enough fourth dimension, and non and then much responsibility, their mom actually does savor taking long walks through the neighborhood.

When they look back on this event in history, I desire them to remember that this was not the most stressful fourth dimension of their lives, but one of the most fun and artistic—a time when we learned all those lessons, and the most important one of all: How to accept care of ourselves and each other.

Photograph by Zach Lucero / Unsplash

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Source: https://thephiladelphiacitizen.org/caring-for-kids-during-coronavirus/

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