Isolation Schooling
2020-03-24
I’m sitting on a chair in the empty music room. It’s the first time I’ve sat down all day, and a tear runs down my cheek. A wave of loneliness washes over me like an incoming tide. Other mothers with kids are in the same isolation schooling situation I am in. The members of my city like the members of the nation and so many people around the world are staying home like we are. I’m not alone, but staying home without seeing my friends, leaves me feeling disconnected.
This time of day is the worst for me. Homeschooling had field trips, play dates and classes with friends to break up the day. It didn’t leave me feeling emotionally depleted. After a long day of isolation schooling, the kids are as tired of me as I am of them. I make dinner and then spend the evening cleaning the kitchen and working on the laundry. I miss my housekeeper and wish the kids were helpful. Mike wonders why the kids don’t help me. He’s been asking that question for eighteen years.
I’ve read books on the value of chores, how they make kids feel a part of the family, needed, important. People I know have invested hours every day for years training their children to help them. Their teens are probably cooking dinner and cleaning the bathrooms for them. The outcome sounds so beautiful but the reality of my attempts to train the kids look more me yelling and them crying. While I’m feeling so much stress, this is not the time for training. As tired as I am, there is more peace if I do the dishes and laundry and am thankful that the children are keeping their rooms clean even if they aren’t stepping up to do more. I’m waiting to see how long we can go without cleaning the seven toilets in this house. In another week the kids may be getting lessons in housekeeping because I hate cleaning toilets more than I hate fighting.
Isolation school isn’t all bad. It’s been good for our Lenten journey. We say more prayers together and once a day the kids color while read to them about the saints of the day. I’m impressed watching them write paragraphs and essays and math comes easy for my children. They are good students when they have a mind to work, but if they aren’t engaged with an assignment, my grade schoolers Jonah, Xenia and Justin all need my physical presence to keep them on task. Justin’s first grade work demands a lot of one on one reading out loud time. Jonah, who is in fifth grade, wants to work with music on. Xenia, my third grader, wants silence. It’s hard to motivate them when there are so many other things that I could be doing. This has to be the priority though because the moment I leave to make a phone call, the children escape. The theme song for my isolation schooling has is, “Baby Come Back” by Player. I sing it down the stairs and call the children’s names.
Right now, Mike is in the home office working. I got to listen to Mike’s boss and his fellow hardware engineers in one of the company meetings when we drove to pick up Basil. These are exciting times in the biotech industry. The company Mike is working for is doing their part to work on the Corona virus. I do my best to keep the kids on the second floor during the workday, so that Mike has a peaceful environment while he works from home.
Esther and Sophia are in their rooms on the phone with their boyfriends. Their cars which are usually gone are parked in the driveway collecting pollen dust. They will come out tonight when Mike and the girls and I have a drink together, tea for some, wine for others as we have for the past few evenings. The girls are reclusive but are seen more than they would be if they were able to spend all their time with their boyfriends. Their online classes start next week.
Basil, my fourteen-year-old boy, hides in his room also when he isn’t badgering me for screen time. Last night he kept asking for a computer thing over and over again. He may be right in the fun that it would bring him and his siblings, but I’m sure that the fights and discord I foresee are also inevitable. I should know better than to engage in these fruitless arguments, but in my exhaustion, I kept saying no in as many different and creative ways that came to mind.
I finished rinsing the rice cooker pot and turned to Xenia who sat on the bar stool watching me to ask, “How do I say, ‘no’ in Latin?”
“I don’t know Latin, but I know Greek.”
“How do you say, ‘no’ in Greek?”
“Oche”
“Okay? Yeah right!” There was no way I was going to tell Basil, “Okay.”
I thought I’d trip Xenia up, “And how do you say, ‘yes’ in Greek?”
“Nay.”
It was a conspiracy. All the kids were out to get me. Funny thing though, Xenia’s Greek teacher saw the post on Facebook and confirmed that Xenia had it right.
Xenia is outside somewhere. Earlier today the kids set up a gagaball pit in the playroom which has three walls of windows. The used laundry baskets and chairs to block off one corner. This game is played low to the ground below people’s knees. They whack the ball in an attempt to hit each other’s legs. I don’t understand all the rules in part because each of the children seem to have their own version. They played all day in between bruises, bloody toes and one cracked head. One of the boys just hit the ball at Xenia’s foot as hard as he could, and Xenia is angry that I have done nothing to punish him. After she stormed off, in fear of injuries to kids and windows, I took the balls and hid them in a closet on the third story. Xenia knows not to leave the property and the weather is beautiful. She can have as much space as she needs.
Justin is taking a bubble bath. I made the mistake of telling him that school is canceled indefinitely which sent him on a crying jag and made today yet another worst day of his life. He came to me after climbing the trees in the back yard and complained that there was nothing to do and everything was boring. I hope the bubble bath calms him down. He is the most vocal about his hatred of being forced to stay at home.
Jonah just ran around the corner waving a nerf gun. He stopped long enough to hand me my cell phone which the kids have appropriated for their own music and audiobook needs. Here comes Justin wearing pajama shorts and a blanket around his shoulders with his own nerf gun. It feels late but that might be because we never adjusted to the time change. I’ll let them stay up a bit longer while they are having fun.
Tonight was a dinner fail. It’s hard to cook vegan food for the fast, and eating out when dinner doesn’t work out doesn’t feel safe with corona virus cases doubling every week. We are vegan for a full forty days for Lent and then another seven days for Holy Week. The kids can have dairy, but dinner is a family meal where we keep the strict fast. I can’t understand how people can be vegan full time. Meat makes everything taste better. The kids don’t like beans and tofu and blame my cooking skills for meals they don’t want to eat. I blame a lack of meat and butter. At least we are able to keep the children supplied with milk and cereal.
Mike is calling me on the phone. He wants me to play Archam Horror the Card game. We had been playing with Esther’s boyfriend Joshua but he’s not here in our isolation bubble. Instead Mike and I started a new campaign for two players. Tonight is the big night of our last scenario. The fate of the world will be decided in three hours. The thrill of a boardgame is a welcome distraction from frustration and fear.
The news and social media sites are full of memes telling us that our part in the war against disease is staying at home. There are so many people on the front lines exposed to the disease and doing their best to provide food and healthcare for us. I admire them. Staying at home is a sacrifice too though. Lord have mercy on us all.
2020-03-24
I’m sitting on a chair in the empty music room. It’s the first time I’ve sat down all day, and a tear runs down my cheek. A wave of loneliness washes over me like an incoming tide. Other mothers with kids are in the same isolation schooling situation I am in. The members of my city like the members of the nation and so many people around the world are staying home like we are. I’m not alone, but staying home without seeing my friends, leaves me feeling disconnected.
This time of day is the worst for me. Homeschooling had field trips, play dates and classes with friends to break up the day. It didn’t leave me feeling emotionally depleted. After a long day of isolation schooling, the kids are as tired of me as I am of them. I make dinner and then spend the evening cleaning the kitchen and working on the laundry. I miss my housekeeper and wish the kids were helpful. Mike wonders why the kids don’t help me. He’s been asking that question for eighteen years.
I’ve read books on the value of chores, how they make kids feel a part of the family, needed, important. People I know have invested hours every day for years training their children to help them. Their teens are probably cooking dinner and cleaning the bathrooms for them. The outcome sounds so beautiful but the reality of my attempts to train the kids look more me yelling and them crying. While I’m feeling so much stress, this is not the time for training. As tired as I am, there is more peace if I do the dishes and laundry and am thankful that the children are keeping their rooms clean even if they aren’t stepping up to do more. I’m waiting to see how long we can go without cleaning the seven toilets in this house. In another week the kids may be getting lessons in housekeeping because I hate cleaning toilets more than I hate fighting.
Isolation school isn’t all bad. It’s been good for our Lenten journey. We say more prayers together and once a day the kids color while read to them about the saints of the day. I’m impressed watching them write paragraphs and essays and math comes easy for my children. They are good students when they have a mind to work, but if they aren’t engaged with an assignment, my grade schoolers Jonah, Xenia and Justin all need my physical presence to keep them on task. Justin’s first grade work demands a lot of one on one reading out loud time. Jonah, who is in fifth grade, wants to work with music on. Xenia, my third grader, wants silence. It’s hard to motivate them when there are so many other things that I could be doing. This has to be the priority though because the moment I leave to make a phone call, the children escape. The theme song for my isolation schooling has is, “Baby Come Back” by Player. I sing it down the stairs and call the children’s names.
Right now, Mike is in the home office working. I got to listen to Mike’s boss and his fellow hardware engineers in one of the company meetings when we drove to pick up Basil. These are exciting times in the biotech industry. The company Mike is working for is doing their part to work on the Corona virus. I do my best to keep the kids on the second floor during the workday, so that Mike has a peaceful environment while he works from home.
Esther and Sophia are in their rooms on the phone with their boyfriends. Their cars which are usually gone are parked in the driveway collecting pollen dust. They will come out tonight when Mike and the girls and I have a drink together, tea for some, wine for others as we have for the past few evenings. The girls are reclusive but are seen more than they would be if they were able to spend all their time with their boyfriends. Their online classes start next week.
Basil, my fourteen-year-old boy, hides in his room also when he isn’t badgering me for screen time. Last night he kept asking for a computer thing over and over again. He may be right in the fun that it would bring him and his siblings, but I’m sure that the fights and discord I foresee are also inevitable. I should know better than to engage in these fruitless arguments, but in my exhaustion, I kept saying no in as many different and creative ways that came to mind.
I finished rinsing the rice cooker pot and turned to Xenia who sat on the bar stool watching me to ask, “How do I say, ‘no’ in Latin?”
“I don’t know Latin, but I know Greek.”
“How do you say, ‘no’ in Greek?”
“Oche”
“Okay? Yeah right!” There was no way I was going to tell Basil, “Okay.”
I thought I’d trip Xenia up, “And how do you say, ‘yes’ in Greek?”
“Nay.”
It was a conspiracy. All the kids were out to get me. Funny thing though, Xenia’s Greek teacher saw the post on Facebook and confirmed that Xenia had it right.
Xenia is outside somewhere. Earlier today the kids set up a gagaball pit in the playroom which has three walls of windows. The used laundry baskets and chairs to block off one corner. This game is played low to the ground below people’s knees. They whack the ball in an attempt to hit each other’s legs. I don’t understand all the rules in part because each of the children seem to have their own version. They played all day in between bruises, bloody toes and one cracked head. One of the boys just hit the ball at Xenia’s foot as hard as he could, and Xenia is angry that I have done nothing to punish him. After she stormed off, in fear of injuries to kids and windows, I took the balls and hid them in a closet on the third story. Xenia knows not to leave the property and the weather is beautiful. She can have as much space as she needs.
Justin is taking a bubble bath. I made the mistake of telling him that school is canceled indefinitely which sent him on a crying jag and made today yet another worst day of his life. He came to me after climbing the trees in the back yard and complained that there was nothing to do and everything was boring. I hope the bubble bath calms him down. He is the most vocal about his hatred of being forced to stay at home.
Jonah just ran around the corner waving a nerf gun. He stopped long enough to hand me my cell phone which the kids have appropriated for their own music and audiobook needs. Here comes Justin wearing pajama shorts and a blanket around his shoulders with his own nerf gun. It feels late but that might be because we never adjusted to the time change. I’ll let them stay up a bit longer while they are having fun.
Tonight was a dinner fail. It’s hard to cook vegan food for the fast, and eating out when dinner doesn’t work out doesn’t feel safe with corona virus cases doubling every week. We are vegan for a full forty days for Lent and then another seven days for Holy Week. The kids can have dairy, but dinner is a family meal where we keep the strict fast. I can’t understand how people can be vegan full time. Meat makes everything taste better. The kids don’t like beans and tofu and blame my cooking skills for meals they don’t want to eat. I blame a lack of meat and butter. At least we are able to keep the children supplied with milk and cereal.
Mike is calling me on the phone. He wants me to play Archam Horror the Card game. We had been playing with Esther’s boyfriend Joshua but he’s not here in our isolation bubble. Instead Mike and I started a new campaign for two players. Tonight is the big night of our last scenario. The fate of the world will be decided in three hours. The thrill of a boardgame is a welcome distraction from frustration and fear.
The news and social media sites are full of memes telling us that our part in the war against disease is staying at home. There are so many people on the front lines exposed to the disease and doing their best to provide food and healthcare for us. I admire them. Staying at home is a sacrifice too though. Lord have mercy on us all.