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I’m Looking Forward to the Part Where My Inner Strength Kicks In
They say that this experience will make us better people — but right now, I’m a mess
Last night I was texting with a friend who is also a working parent about school closures and this strange new world in which we now find ourselves. She shared something lovely that another friend had sent her, and told me that for her, it had been a great source of strength the past few days:
Whatever is coming, I think there might be something cathartic in realizing that we can get through something hard. That there is still love and joy and sunshine in hard times. And that we have reservoirs of strength we’re not usually aware of.
It was beautiful. She was right. It was exactly what I needed to hear. And I cannot wait until we get to that part of this global pandemic because right now, I am a mess.
The kids are going to be home for weeks. Possibly months. Teaching, special-needs therapies, and all the things that qualified and trained adults do as their full-time jobs are now going to be my job, in my self-quarantined house, while I’m also trying to do the job I’m trained and paid to do. So far, everyone in my family is well, but I have yet to fully consider the possibility that we or any number of the people we love — near and far — might get sick. And then our calculation will adjust again, to accommodate another new reality.
I don’t tell people I’m a mess, obviously. I make gentle jokes on Twitter about staying in and suddenly finding oneself a full-time homeschooling parent. It’s ridiculous to complain any more than that because I speak from an absurdly privileged vantage point. In the scheme of full-time jobs that working parents have, mine — writing — is relatively easy and flexible. You sit in a chair and can do it at home. My partner’s job requires that he work long hours right now, so I’m going to need to pick up the bulk of the extra caretaking. That will be hard, but it will be nothing that millions of single working parents don’t already deal with daily.
And I probably won’t even want to complain, once we get to the part where I realize how strong I really am. But until then: I am so stressed out! I work in this stupid gig economy…
