Living the Dream

So. I took two weeks off from the blog. Not because I had so much to do, but because I didn't have anything new to say.  My life was Groundhog Day. Once I hit rock bottom it's not like I did a deep dive and emerged with some profound realization or plan for how I was going to make everything OK.

On the contrary, I kind of quit.

Yes, that's right. Two months of trying to stay on top of three kids' schoolwork, being the banker in endless games of Monopoly and serving lunch after hot lunch had taken their toll. I went from wanting more freelance work so I could feel productive to wondering how I could possibly take on any more responsibility in my life. It came to the point where every time my husband saw me laying on my bed zoned out on my phone he just shook his head and said "Really? You're in bed again?"

In my defense, unless it was between the hours of midnight and 9 am I was not actually in bed. The bed still got made every day and I was always fully dressed and laying on top of the covers, as long you count stretchy pants and a sports bra fully dressed. And it's not like I was spending all my time watching Tik Tok videos. Well, not only Tik Tok videos. There were lots of think pieces from The Atlantic and informative posts by people who share my political views that I needed to like so that all of my Facebook friends know that I believe in science and Indigo Girls concerts and that I hate racism and Trump. As if they didn't already know. 

But yeah, getting off my bed became a bit of a challenge. I started Beach Body's 80 Day Obsession three weeks ago and at the rate I was going I was going to be 80 by the time I finished it. 

And then last week I started getting emails from my kids' teachers. Apparently my boys' assurances that they were "all caught up" and "doing just fine" were, well, mostly lies. One child was doing the work but not pressing the "submit" button so he wasn't getting credit for it. The other one had basically skipped a week-long reading assignment that involved reading a biography and answering questions about it because he wasn't sure where to find a biography and didn't know where the worksheets were located in his Google Classroom.

I would blame technology but this is the child who generally cannot find his books or worksheets in a non-digital world so this was totally in character. Why I hadn't thought to regularly log onto his computer to close his 56 open tabs and delete his graded assignments is beyond me. I guess I had foolishly thought that without physical clutter his "executive function" issues (which, before I learned that there was an actual label for it, I used to think of as his "can't get his shit together" issues) would magically go away. But virtual clutter is totally a thing - kids can have messy desktops just like they have messy desks and lockers, just without the rotting lunch or unwashed gym clothes.

Which reminds me to bring a bottle of Febreeze to middle school locker clean-out next week. And maybe some matches.  

So yeah, you know that dream about it being the end of the semester and you haven't turned in any of your assignments and are totally unprepared for the final exam? I am living that nightmare out and even though it's my child's assignments that are not getting done, somehow I feel like it's me taking the final exam. I feel like I am being graded just as much as my children are, and that the fourth quarter report card will be not a reflection of what my child has learned in the past nine weeks but of how well I managed the Google Meets and Flip Grids and Quick Checks and Word Study.

I wonder what used to live in the place in my brain that now knows the difference between a Quick Check and Word Study Sort. Hopefully it wasn't anything useful like trigonometry or how to change a flat tire.

Ha, like I ever knew those things!

So there I was, paralyzed by fear of failing at remote learning. And I don't mean I was worried about my kids' failing, I was worried about my own performance as a mother turned teacher. What exactly was expected of me?

Should I make sure my first grader's writing assignment was legible and coherent or should I let the teacher see that he's still struggling with capitalization and punctuation?

Would I help my sixth grader with his art project because no child of mine was going to fail art while accepting the fact that my third grader might actually fail gym because I had not submitted any videos of him jumping rope?

What example was I setting if I let some things slide because it's all just too much?  What damage was I doing when I started screaming that "in real life you can't skip out on your responsibilities even though you'd rather lie on your bed (fully clothed) texting your friends about how it's all just too much?" 

Oh shit.

Doesn't it suck when you realize that the lessons you are trying to teach your kids are the lessons that you need to learn yourself?

And so, I picked myself up and got to work. Which meant getting out of bed before 8:30, making sure that math and literacy lessons were submitted more or less on time and that all of my kids' writing assignments hit that sweet spot of "my mom didn't write this for me but she didn't not write this for me."

As for gym, music and art, well....I plan on sending all of my kids' specials teachers notes saying "It's not you, it's me" and Starbucks gift cards and hoping for the best...an incomplete in first grade gym won't be on his permanent record, right? RIGHT?

The project that I enjoyed helping with the most was my third grader's end of the year Memory Book project. It involved filling out pages with questions like "What was your favorite part of this year?" and "What are you looking forward to this summer?" The first question required one answer, the second question required two answers, etc. All the way up to six. It got me thinking about my own memories, my #goals for this summer, and what I will and won't miss about 2019/2020 school year.

So, I decided to start my own memory book, and share the first three entries with you:

What was your favorite part of this school year?

1. Painting a mural at the elementary school. As I mentioned in March, before COVID-19 reared it's spiky little head I had been working on painting a mural in the entryway of my kids' school. It was almost complete when in-person school was suspended and I didn't realize until I went into the building yesterday to finish what I'd started how empty a school is without teachers and students.  It was...weird.

There were no students walking by on their way to lunch asking me if the principal knew that I was coloring on the walls.

There were no teacher's aids going in and out of the office and in and out of the office and in and - seriously, they must get their 10,000 steps in by nine am.

There were no janitors coming by to mop up the vomit spewed by the kid who couldn't make it to the nurse's office on time. OK, that part wasn't really my favorite but looking back to a time when exposure to bodily fluids didn't require a Hazmat suit and gas mask makes me feel all the nostalgic feels.

The mural is now 99% complete and I just hope that come August there will be students and teachers in the building to enjoy it.  Although I'm wondering if instead of painting inspirational quotes like "Go from Good to Great" and "Be Better Today Than You Were Yesterday" I should have painted more useful phrases.  Stuff along the lines of "Keep A Safe Distance" and "Cough Into Your Elbow." 

What are two things you will miss about this year? 

1. Sending my kids to school for six and a half hours a day and not worrying about them. School has always been a safe space for us. Sort of. I mean, there was always the fear that they will get gunned down in gym class, but now I also have to worry about the germs being projected out of their lungs during music class? As if the thought of them bringing home recorders wasn't stressful enough.

We don't know what school will look like come August, I have heard every scenario from kids in masks to webcams in classrooms so that anyone who doesn't feel safe can learn from home. Neither of these scenarios seem appealing and I pity the teacher who has to "perform" in front of a live audience all day. Because you know there's that one parent who will be camped out in front of her screen all day taking notes and emailing them to the teacher at the end of the day. I'm not naming any names because I feel bad for the Karen's of the world who are suffering right now because of one or ten bad Karens who ruined it for all of the Karens.

Then again who would have thought that we'd become used to active shooter drills, maybe kids eating lunch in plexiglass pods will become routine (I refuse to use the expression "new normal" because none of this will ever be normal for anyone over the age of 6). Whatever the plan is for fall, we do know that it will come with a lot more anxiety and stress than we had in previous years. 

2. Cafeteria food. It's true, I haven't actually eaten cafeteria food in 20 years, but you know who did eat it every single day? My kids. They ate that shit up. Breakfast for lunch? Let's go! Food with names that required asking the critical question are 'chicken fries' chicken or are they fries (the answer: both!)? Yes, please. They even dabbled in international cuisine with orange chicken and fried rice.

The nutritional content might have been questionable but after three months of cooking grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, and bacon egg and cheese sandwiches, I can't say that my hot lunches were much better, although we are definitely doing our part to support the Dairy Farmers of America.

I miss sending my kids off to school knowing that no one will going in and out of the kitchen for six and a half hours except for me.

I miss knowing that someone else was making sure all of the food groups were being offered and that someone else was cringing when the carrots and fruit cups went straight into the garbage.

I even miss the emails from the school secretary telling me my child had overdrawn his lunch money account buying ice cream. I hope she's well and hasn't missed our weekly correspondence too much during this difficult time. 

What are three things you learned this year:

1. Teachers should be paid a gazillion dollars. I've always thought that teachers deserve more money, and not just because I was the daughter of one and thought that for the amount of work my mom was putting in I should be able to have at least 12 pairs of Guess jeans in my closet. But the past two and a half months really cemented this belief. In addition to delivering lessons about everything from fairy tales to natural resources, my kids' teachers had to record themselves reading to their classes, post all of those videos online and check to make sure they were being watched, and, in the case of one of my kid's teachers, spend 45 minutes helping students navigate their computer desktop to locate their assignments so they could actually turn them in and she could grade them.

On top of all of this, they had to help their students adjust mentally and emotionally to this new way of learning and often saw way more of their home lives than they ever wanted to (to the teacher who was overheard saying "I've already met your cat, and your sister. It's time for you to focus on math," I see you and I will be buying you an Amazon gift card just for not dropping the f-bomb on camera).

2. I should always get dressed and do my hair before my kids log on to their Google Meets. Because inevitably my child will start fidgeting and lose the window with their meet and I will have to come over and help them get their screen back. It's bad enough that the entire class gets a close up of my double chin as I lean over the computer, I should probably also be wearing more than a sports bra and stretchy pants.

3. Algebra. Just kidding, I still don't understand algebra. But I did learn that my husband is a way more patient (and competent) math teacher than I am, and that if he doesn't know the answer, he has a cousin who's a middle school math teacher who is only a phone call away.

What are four things you are looking forward to this summer:

1. Being a 1970's mom.  I would have said 1980's mom but the hairstyles need more maintenance than I can manage right now. Anyway, a lot of people are talking about how this summer is going to look more like the summers of decades past than like the summers we have gotten used to. No more sending the kids off to camp at 8 am and having them come home hot and tired at 3 pm, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and then eating dinner over the sink as I yell at everyone to find their cleats and cups (the athletic kind) so we can get to their baseball game on time.

Nope.

This summer will find us in the backyard with our new trampoline (I hear the ER's are empty these days so, cool), two new inflatable pools (because the dog needed his own pool, obvs) and my new hanging chaise lounge. Yep, the money we are saving by not going on a family vacation or sending the kids to overnight camp will be spent on our skyrocketing water bill and Urgent Care co-pays.

And, like a good 1970's mom I will be slathered in baby oil on a lawn chair listening to the radio while my kids eat twinkies. Except that it's not the 1970's and melanoma kills and commercials are annoying and there's a childhood obesity epidemic. The truth is I'll be slathered in SPF making grilled cheese sandwiches in the kitchen listening to a podcast on Alexa while the dog relaxes in my chair after his morning swim.

So, samesies?

2. Avoiding the social media shaming.  The internet has become a dark, scary place.  It used to be that the worst thing you could see when you logged on was porn and violence. Now, in addition to all of that, we have to deal with the shaming.

So much shaming.

You get shamed for letting your kids play outside with a neighbor, for taking a walk in the park without a mask, for buying a designer puppy instead of a rescue. Just because he doesn't shed and cost $3,000 doesn't mean he doesn't deserve love Carol! 

And that's just on Next Door.

There's also the guilt you feel every time you open Facebook and see the summer to-do lists that all the extra mom's have made for their kids so that they can make lemonade out of lemons and have The Best Summer Ever and also avoid the dreaded summer slide.  I'm guessing the only summer slide 1970's moms had to worry about was the rusty one at the lake.

And so I'm going to let my kids have their screens and stay up late and subsist on too much snack food and not enough healthy choices. But I will also encourage them to read and write and ask my 12 year old how much I should tip if we ever go out to eat again because honestly that's the only math that has ever made a difference in my life. We will also do fun things like having bonfires and scavenger hunts but I will not be hashtagging that shit so that everyone else thinks I'm a Good Mom.

Well, not all of it. 

3. Driveway parties. Or patio parties. Or parking lot parties. Basically any social gathering that involves my friends and I sitting six feet apart drinking White Claws or Chrissy Teigan's watermelon slushies (Was it a coincidence that her recipe was posted the same day my mom gave me a half of a watermelon? I don't think so). By nature I am not a "glass half full" kind of person, but I'm actually looking forward to a summer without creepy carnies operating rides at a county fair and not having to sit in the annual fourth of july post-fireworks trafffic jam. No longer having to spend all afternoon slaving over a pasta salad for a potluck bar-b-que means I can really focus on perfecting my not-cleaning-my-bathroom-for-company game and upping my alcohol tolerance.

You know, in case we have to do remote learning again in the fall. 

4. Summer reading. I'm not talking about my kids' summer reading (although I do have stacks of books ready to go for them in case Hell freezes over or they get tired of chasing each other with sticks in the backyard - whichever happens first). I'm talking about my summer reading. With my local library providing pick-up service starting June 1 I've started reserving books online like I'm....a person who doesn't have a husband, three kids, a dog, and a freelance career.

This might have been overly ambitious.  But with no real plans on the horizon I'm channeling 10 year old me who fantasized that instead of whichever camp she was signed up for that summer she could spend her days reading books in a comfy chair in the shade. No camp or baseball or indoor entertaining plus 1970's parenting means more time to read.

So, good-bye going to school naked nightmares. School's out for summer. If you want to find me I will be living the dream.