Today marks the end of week 9 of quarantine. By now our kids have endured 63 days without school, the comfort of a steady routine, play dates at friends' houses, extra curricular activities of any kind, or family gatherings. Their little worlds look nothing like they did two months ago, and they don't really have the language to express how this all affects them. Some days they wake up full of energy and hope and excitement and it seems like nothing can get them down. Other days they wake up ready to fight anyone around them about the smallest things. Absolutely anything can set them off- the pancake you made is the wrong size, their favorite shorts are in the dirty laundry, or the weather forecast has changed overnight and therefore our daily bike rides are canceled and it all just goes downhill from there. Like us adults, they're confused. Every day their emotions range from hope to despair. But unlike adults, they have no real idea as to what is going on. Even if they understand things about the virus, they still can't fully comprehend why everything is closed, why they can see and talk to some neighbors while walking around the neighborhood but haven't seen other friends and family members in months. Why everyone has to wear masks and why they can't see if people walking by them are smiling at them or not.
For us, week 9 has been the roughest. First of all, they've both had it with zoom. At first I think it was sort of exciting- getting to see their classmates and teachers on the screen from the comfort of their own home. Josh thought it was fun to do karate in his living room, while Zoey loved her facetime and zoom playdates with friends. Something has switched, though, and they both lost it this week when the computer came out for school time. But, since they are 5 and 6 years old, there was no rational conversation about this. Zoey didn't sit us down and say calmly "Mommy and Daddy, this is really hard for me. I love school and I miss my Teacher and my friends. I want to continue to learn and use all the methods for learning I use at school, but I can't do it this way. I'm overwhelmed by seeing my entire class on Zoom but not being able to talk to them. I hate having to unmute myself when I want to answer a question. I miss seeing my amazing Teacher in person and being able to give her a hug if I need to." No, that didn't happen. Instead, there was a lot of yelling, crying, screaming, throwing, and slamming doors. There was a lot of ripping up pieces of paper filled with math equations I had written out to do with her. Her confusion and anxiety came out in rage-filled tantrums that I could tell even she wanted no part of. For her brother, the sadness came in the form of needing extra cuddles, crying when we said we wouldn't order him more toys just for the sake of him wanting new toys, and begging for treats at all hours of the day. It also came out in both of them saying some pretty nasty things to us.
These days are long, they're hard, and I don't have many uplifting words right now. I think it's okay to feel how we feel and just BE in those feelings. I'm an optimistic person and I try hard not to complain. But not complaining and pretending everything is wonderful are two very different things. Everything isn't wonderful these days. And we don't know what the future holds. So our job as these childrens' parents is to just BE there for them. To try to remember that they're confused and sad and frustrated just like us, but that they don't have the ability to talk it through like we do. So I still hold out hope for the good days, because hopefully sooner rather than later they'll show up more often than they did this week.
