As I write this, it has been 127 days since life as you’ve always known it changed dramatically due to the coronavirus pandemic.
Your dad continues to work outside of our home. The daytime hours you would normally spend at school or other activities are spent at home with me, just me.
This leaves me wondering, have I been enough for you?
To my oldest – my job description as your mom has been altered and now includes home-school teacher, gym teacher, dance teacher, librarian, playmate, and summer camp director. I have taken over the roles of all the special people in your lives that you are missing.
I’m your only teacher now, and I’m sorry.
Learning from mom, who is more than qualified to teach, doesn’t make you happy. You don’t want my carefully planned activities. You balk at the fun I try to have and sneer at the learning games I make for you.
You want your school, but you just have me. You miss your school friends. You want to play with them, be in school with them, and run on the playground with them. Your classmates have been replaced by your younger brother and sister and I. I know how frustrating that has been for you.
As summer goes on, your preschool friends are a distant memory, you’ve stopped asking for them, and that makes me sad.
You “graduated” preschool and will move onto kindergarten in the fall. I have no answers about what kindergarten will be like for you. I don’t know if you will make it into the building for orientation or be present on the first day?
I hope my reassurance that it will all be “ok” is comforting when so much of your future is unknown.
To my twins – you have stopped asking to go to the park, the store, the mall, and the gym. You have accepted our new normal. You are quick to name “the virus” as the reason we cannot do the things that you love. You have your older sister and me, the confines of our neighborhood, outdoor adventures, and close friend’s backyards.
You both completed your first year of preschool on a computer.
How can I replace the socialization, hands-on play, and self-help skills learned in the classroom away from me? I can’t, you just have me, and I hope that’s enough.
The year 2020 has sparked tough conversations I’ve had to have with you. I began explaining to you that people we know and cherish are treated differently due to the color of their skin, about our privilege, and how we can be helpers.
I hope the conversations we are having will make a difference in your lives.
I don’t know what you three will remember of this time. I don’t know how much longer this will go on or if I’ll be resuming my job of home-school teacher come September.
I hope you will remember how special it was to be together that playing and exploring have been some of the best times I’ve spent with you. I hope I’ve been patient enough, kind enough, a good role model, that I’ve made you feel safe in this crazy time and that I’ve been fun. I hope I’ve given you what you need to learn and grow.
I hope I’ve been enough for you because you are everything to me.