Raising children during a pandemic

I am a mother of four. Three are my biological children. One is a step-child. In today's world, with COVID-19 ravaging even the most remote areas now, decision making about anything has become difficult. Sometimes more difficult for some than others. I believe the most difficult decisions belong to parents.

Back in March, 2020, as I worked my part-time job at the school my children attend, we joked about China and the corona virus, made our predictions, and generally traded rumors and headlines we had read.

That next Friday, I got the phone call that school would be closed due to the Corona virus outbreak. Learning would now be remote, done at home, now the parents' job to basically be the teacher.

Everything was new, everyone was learning how to interact through electronic devices by Zoom meetings and logging into Google classroom and teaching kids to check their emails every day... Everything was difficult, we were all on a huge learning curve, especially the teachers. They did their best to adapt to this new situation. I applaud all my children's teachers for the work and effort they put in to try to normalize "distance learning."

I couldn't handle it. I went into survival mode. I woke up every day with a feeling of dread in my chest. Every day I felt like I was in a constant state of panic. Depression set in hard. When I couldn't get myself motivated to do my job, it was impossible to try and get my kids to sit down and do school work. They managed the very bare minimum. They are lucky they are so young, my youngest 5 years old in pre-k, next oldest was 6, in first grade. Both already had the skills and knowledge to pass their grade-level material, and that was their only saving grace.

I longed for the day I could send them back to school. Trying to balance housework, trying to maintain a fragile social life due to social distancing and quarantine time, on top of trying to be a teacher to four children overwhelmed me. Most days I let it go. Didn't try very hard to make them work. They bucked against me at every turn, every time I said to sit down and work.

News of the virus overwhelmed me. I stopped watching the news. I started to isolate myself from the outside world. I drew myself inward because it felt safer.

I'm still there. Ten months later, I am still riddled with anxiety every minute of every day. I have heart palpitations, and have trouble sleeping without a sleep aid. I still wake up with dread. I have to will myself to get out of bed to face each day.

When will it end? I hope soon.