We are now 11 months into this pandemic’s direct impact on our daily life. I told my 11-year-old the other day that we are “living history” right now. Some day, entire textbooks and documentaries will be produced about the year 2020 and beyond. I compared it to how World Wars I and II stretched on for years, with no particular end in sight at the time.
As if “living history” is supposed to be some sort of consolation for the havoc this pandemic has wreaked on our lives.
I never had any aspirations to be a stay-at-home parent. I liked my job, and when I became pregnant with my oldest son, more than 10 years ago, it became a question of balancing time with him, against work, my marriage, and time to myself.
Nelle’s birthday did not arrive slowly as it has in past years. Usually, I could feel the weight of the day creeping up on me. It would be September. I would start to look ahead to our annual trip to the coulee, and the tree where we scattered her ashes. So there was planning, preparation, and looking ahead to her birthday.
I was positive that my kids would be returning to the classroom this Fall.
Illinois has been careful in its reopening, and kept Covid-19 mostly controlled. A little over a week ago, our school district announced its reopening plan with two options: 100% remote learning, or a “hybrid” model of 2 days a week in school and the rest at home, with a rotation of kids for either Tuesday/Thursday classes or Wednesday/Friday classes based on their last name. Along with in-classroom instruction came a lengthy list of safety guidelines that would need to be followed. Continue reading →