Category: Parenting

Day After Day

School starts next Monday, and while most northern states are still coming up with a game plan, here in the south we had to decide by 17 July: remote learning, or face-to-grimy-face. I asked for opinions from friends and family, but the truth of the matter is, I made my decision back in May, when school ended for the summer.

Of course then I watched as county after county around us put their face-to-germy-face option on the back burner, making all students do remote learning—at least until September. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Even though my kids are locked in to remote learning for the first 9 week, I sure do love to doubt myself. Is this the right decision? Am I being paranoid? Am I going to lose my mind? I believe the answers are Yes, No, and Oh hell yes.

You see, I am not what you would call “organized.” Or good with schedules, or staying on task. And while we had 3 months of practice in the spring, I am not a teacher. I never wanted to be a teacher. I can teach you how to swim, I can teach you how to be a lifeguard…neither of those things dramatically shape a person’s future. I mean, I suppose they do. Congratulations, you no longer have to worry about drowning; hooray, you now have the skills to swim laps for exercise; look at you, completing the requirements for an awesome summer job. But, based on the number of adults I have taught to swim over the last 2 decades, you can survive in the real world without knowing how to tread water or rotary breathe.

So, step one of this adventure was more about me. I am a notorious schedule maker…and breaker. I have spent my years going into every day with a plan: these are the items I need to complete, and this is the time I have to get it done. Ooh wait—should I alphabetize my pasta?!

I have lost track of the number of times Justin has said, “Sammi, I love you. But I wish you could complete one task before moving on to the next.” Hey buddy, I would like to complete one thought before moving on to—squirrel!

Right—step one. For the last month, I have written out a daily schedule and followed through. By week 3 I had even added morning yoga into the mix; by week 4, I was starting each morning with chanting before yoga. And I have swept my house every-single-day. Which most people are probably either thinking “why,” or “so?” Because, and you wouldn’t understand.

I don’t just ride the struggle bus—I am the driver. Everything is draining. If I get overwhelmed by…anything (and I mean anything), I have a tendency to shut down. And by “shut down,” I mean nap. As the driver of this struggle bus, I also know that both of my kids are frequent passengers. If I can’t keep it together, we’re all going suffer.

I don’t want to jinx anything, because I really (truly) am impressed with my ability to finally follow through. But I have a really good feeling about this school year. Do I want to homeschool my kids? Absolutely not. Am I willing to send them back to school, when our state is averaging 16% positivity (and our county has averaged over 20%)? Absolutely not! I can barely manage to convince my son to keep a shirt on all day—in what world do we think kids are going to do about wearing masks at school!?

Land of a Thousand 3rd Grade Words

Playing teacher these past 5 weeks (minus one, since Spring Break did happen somewhere in there) has taught me a lot.

  1. I remember the basics from government–thank goodness.
  2. I know the names of most shapes–again, phew.
  3. I struggle with keeping children focused–this is a given, seeing as though I can’t even keep myself focused (I even put fun stained glass window clings on our front windows so I would stop staring at and judging our neighbors for NOT social distancing. Now I just stare and think, “ooh, rainbows”).
  4. I am awful at defining words.

I know words. And now I sound an idiot. “Hey, look at me, I know something!” While I know the definition of words, I have a hard time putting that into words. For example:
“Mom, what does generalize mean?”
“It means. To make a general statement. Big picture. You know.”

Blank stare of confusion. You obviously don’t know.

I have been put on the spot to play human dictionary multiple times this week.
“What does multiple mean?”

This was often an issue I struggled with in school. Don’t ask me to write down the definition of words, because you’re going to get a bunch of nonsense. I just know what it means, and let that be good enough. For me…but when you’re supposed to be assisting a 9 year old with his science, and you can’t spit out a definition that is helpful, well, go ahead and hang up your teaching hat–you’re failing.

Also, it is really frustrating to try and teach tiny human version of me. I would like to apologize to every teacher in the history of my education who had to deal with my slow, meticulous, daydreamy way of learning. There are 5 weeks left of school; I’ll be lucky if Xander finishes in 10…months.

Sorry for the distractibility gene. ADD is a bitch.

Take This Job and Shove It

Day One of Google Classroom was expected to be a success. I had glanced over the assignments each child had in advance. I split school hours between both kids, so they would have an hour of school time and and hour of some other time. We started school at 9; by 9:30, I was ready to start drinking.

Which is crazy, because I don’t drink!

Ok…during Coronapocalypse I have taken to enjoying one drink each night, while I make dinner. But Justin said it doesn’t even count, because my “drink” is a 24oz pineapple smoothie with one shot of Malibu. Also, it takes me about 4 hours to drink it. What can I say, I know how to party.

I understand that we’re all new to this, and with it being the first day of online classroom biz, there are bound to be some glitches. Except the glitch rate is about 90%.

Last night while Justin and I were getting ready for bed, I foolishly said, “the kids’ assignments are posted for the entire week–who knows, maybe they’ll be completely finished by the end of tomorrow!” What’s the saying? If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans? Well, guess who’s having a good hard laugh today?

By 3pm I had already gone on strike and quit my job…except that I can’t go on strike, and if I quit, my kids will never finish school.

On the plus side, both kids completed their PE assignment for the day. Yey PE, for making us all feel like something has been accomplished!

I ran away from home, to work on prepping what will soon be my fruit grove? Garden? Area? Whatever, I have fruit trees that need to be planted, and the location needs work. And I needed a break from Google Classroom. Anyway, I stumbled upon my favorite tree frog in the shed–I’m assuming she’s also a mom, and is most likely hiding from her kids. 2,000 tadpoles, and not a single one will listen!

Also, out of my list of tasks I had hoped to have completed by 3pm, I have managed to was a load of laundry, and fold 2 shirts. Yup, this is going to be a great two months!

P.S. Any teacher who is doing the creating portion of this school work, as well as teaching their own children: bless you.

Don’t Stop Me, Cuz I’m Havin’ a Good Cry, Havin’ a Good Cry Now!

When you live just west of the Chattahoochee, chances are you live in the crazy Eastern/Central limbo we inhabit. Our newspaper comes out of Georgia, Justin works in Georgia…well, that’s not really true. Fort Benning is a little bit in Georgia; a little bit in Alabama; a lotta bit a world unto itself. 95% of our shopping takes place on the east side of the Hooch (sorry Alabama–I have yet to embrace Rainbow Foods). It’s just the way it is.

A majority of time, it makes no difference. Who cares what side of that dirty river Alan Jackson sang about, we’re on.

Until, of course, Coronapocalypse came to Earth and said, “hey, wanna see something crazy?!” Now, suddenly, it’s all about what side of the river you land on.

Last night I received a notification from our local newspaper (out of Georgia). The governor of Georgia had announced that schools will now be closed through April 24th. Hmm…further down the article, it tells me what I need to know: Governor Ivey has cancelled the rest of the school year.

Hold up. Excuse me?! Can we just take a minute and think about this?!

via GIPHY

I am not a teacher. I am not pro-homeschool. I am not prepared for this!!! Furthermore, no one seems to know just how this is going to work. Thus far, my children’s learning has taken place via a 40-60 page packet of school work (half of which I know Xander has previously done for homework. You’re fooling no one, 3rd grade packet).

These are wild and crazy times. I don’t want to go out into the world and I certainly don’t want to send my children back to school. As of right now, our county has 1 case, and the neighboring Alabama county has 47. Alabama is still relatively low on the list of positive cases in the country. This state has 1/4 the population of NYS. But, do you know who doesn’t care about your state’s population?? Covid-19. Way back, 13 days ago, NYS had roughly the same number of cases that Alabama has right now. At this exact moment, New York state has more positive cases than France and the UK combined. By tomorrow, the number will have increased again. That’s the wild and crazy thing about exponential growth.

I am not ready to find out what this disease will do as it works its way across Rural America. Yes, it’s destroying large cities, but large cities also have doctors and hospitals. There are towns in Alabama where they can’t even afford to pave roads–doctors are not nearby. What happens to these people.

I have stockpiled a good amount of alcohol–which is weird for a person who hasn’t consumed alcohol since July (No, I’m not a recovering alcoholic or anything like that–I just don’t drink. Although, I might start attending online AA meetings: GRANT ME THE SERENITY TO GET THROUGH THIS ).

Alabama will decide what to do with this school year by April 6–how they plan on educating roughly a million children, so they can move on to the next grade. That is the moment when we can really kick our panic into high gear.

I’m going to go make myself a Malibu and Pineapple smoothie, and spend the next 8 hours drinking it (I’m a seriously cheap date). And I’m going to ignore the impending doom that is my children’s education!!!

Help! I Need Some TP!

I walked into the bathroom, and sat down to pee. My life flashed before my eyes. Instant panic set in. Oh, my glob. This is it. The end of times.

I was about to jump in my car and spend the next 12 hours driving around to every store in the 100 mile radius I am currently detained to (as per Army Regulations). But then, just as I was about to leave, I remembered:

Oh yeah…we have toilet paper. That was a close one.

Instantly, I found myself wondering, is this what has happened across the country–nay, the world?! Did mothers everywhere, spot the empty roll, realize we’re living in Pandemic Province, and instantly Pandemic Panic Purchase Paper-Products?!

How silly did all of them feel when, upon returning home from their Quarantine-Quest, they realized it was just another case of A Task Too Hard For Anyone But A Mother To Complete?