It's not about you

A week ago I wrote a very sad post about distance learning and how miserable we all were. I'm happy to report that while it's still horrible and awful, it's better. Monday was a terrible day, Friday was a terrible day, the days in between were varying degrees of dreadful, but we're finding our rhythm, getting it done.

I now start each school day by writing the day's schedule on a page in my notebook. I get into Schoology to see exactly what they need to do for each of their classes that day and add that to the page so I can check off each thing as we do it. I've learned from two weeks of experience that I have to do this -- I can't depend on the boys. Each teacher organizes their Schoology page differently, and in some cases it's very hard to figure out what's supposed to be done each day. I have a PhD; figuring stuff out is what I'm good at. Kid A's special ed teacher told me last week that it's important to let the kids do it themselves, that that's part of what middle school is all about. OK, fine, but the principal also sent out this message yesterday, asking parents to be more involved:

We are noticing that some students are less engaged during the second week of Home Learning. In contacting parents, they thought students were engaging, because the students said they were. I am encouraging parents to take a deeper view of what students are doing in their online learning. Ask your child to show you their work, have them tell you about the learning or check in with their teachers to see how learning is going. We are also asking parents to remind students to check their school email daily.  

To me, this says I'm doing the right thing by taking charge. The kids can figure out things for themselves when they go back to in-person school (and Kid A gets back to his special ed support system). In this weird, in-between phase, which is not really homeschooling because I am not setting the lessons or due dates, I need to take charge or nothing will happen.

While I'm doing all this organizing, the twins are in bed with their Chromebooks, playing the games they weren't supposed to be able to play on them (but the blocking software is easy to get around). So much for hiding the iPads (which I still do each morning) -- they can do almost everything they want to on their school-issued laptops. Sigh.

"Check your email," I say, and reluctantly they do so, though I come over and read the messages too, because they miss things. Some of the teachers send a lot of messages, and sometimes the messages say things like, "I've decided to do things differently today" -- which is why I have to make our plans that morning, not the night before. It's OK, the change is usually for the better. Twice a week, Kid B has a Zoom call from 9 to 10 am, but otherwise we start work at 9:30 (more zoom calls are coming next week -- we'll have to figure out how to accommodate those). Monday they have work for periods 1-2-3-4-5-6-7, Tuesday and Thursday they have 1-3-5-7, and Wednesday and Friday they have 2-4-6.

The trickiest part, by far, is figuring out how to help both of them at the same time. They have two classes together, they have the same math teacher but at different times/days, and they have different reading/language arts teachers, so those assignments are completely different.

In some cases, they will work independently. Kid A, for example, is supposed to read for 20 minutes each day for his reading class. I can set the timer for 20 minutes and let him go, which gives me 20 minutes to work with Kid B. Kid B can practice his instrument on his own while I sit with Kid A and help him with his. If the assignment is to watch a video, they can usually do that alone -- though I've learned that Kid A likes to increase the speed of the video, so that it goes by faster -- and consequently he can't understand what's being said, thereby negating the whole purpose of watching the video. (!!!) Sometimes it's just hard, and I have to tell one to sit tight while I work with the other. There was a lot of that on Friday, when it took us 6 hours to finish what's supposed to be 3 hours of work.

So it's not fun. But we're figuring it out, and I know we're doing better than many other families where the parents have to work -- or don't have internet -- or speak only Spanish and can't understand their kids' assignments -- or are too depressed to put in the effort. That's one thing I learned this week: no matter how crappy things are, we're doing better than a lot of other families, and my angst about the process is uninteresting. It's not all about me. "Don't worry that it's not perfect, just turn it in," I said, over and over and over. We turned in a lot of sub-standard work, but hey, we got it in, checked it off, moved on.

What I didn't manage to get done this week was make masks. I have no idea why I can't do this. I got the rest of the material cut out -- I now have everything ready to make 6 masks, including two kid-sized. The sewing machine is set up on the dining room table (we've been eating at the kitchen counter instead). The ironing board is driving me crazy, I bump into it whenever I try to do anything in the kitchen, but do I do the work that would allow me to put it away? No, I do not. Chester thinks it is a great place to sit (soft, unlike his usual perch on the printer), but otherwise it's a pain having it there, a pain that I could so easily cure. And of course we are now supposed to wear masks whenever we go outside, even for a social distancing walk, so I really have to get this figured out. I have some old masks of Rocket Boy's, but two of them make me sneeze, and the third has broken elastic, so I have to use a binder clip and it's horrible. An hour ago we went for a walk and I wore a scarf enhanced by a hair elastic -- suffice it to say it didn't work, and I spent the whole walk trying to pull it up, adjust my hair, pull it up again. I need to make those masks!

One thing happened this week that really upset me, so much so that my immune system clearly dropped and I started feeling sick. I finally feel better this morning, but I need to be careful. Anyway, on Thursday around noon we walked to the kids' old elementary school, as we usually do for our official 20-minute activity for P.E. class. The playground has been closed for a while, but at first they didn't close the fields. We played gaga ball briefly and then moved onto the field to play frisbee. I should note that the fields and basketball courts themselves were closed a week or so ago, to discourage gatherings of unrelated people. But there aren't actually any signs that say the fields are closed. And you are allowed to walk through the school grounds on your way to somewhere else. And I'm totally justifying our behavior, here, ignoring the actual rules. Anyway, after we'd been playing for a few minutes, a man wearing a cloth mask (who had been helping distribute food in the parking lot) walked over to the basketball court, where a man was shooting hoops by himself. The masked man said something to him, and the man took his basketball and left. Then the masked man walked over to us. I knew what was coming and my heart sunk. "Hello, folks," the man said pleasantly. And then he proceeded to explain that the fields were closed. "I know, I'm sorry," I said, and then proceeded to try to justify our behavior: "They have to exercise for P.E. -- they're in middle school -- it's such a good place to play." "I know," he said, sounding as though he really did know. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to leave."

It's not about you, I told myself, as we walked home. It's about flattening the curve, helping prevent deaths. You did something wrong; now you're going to stop doing that. It's not about you. But still I felt my immune system crashing because I felt so ashamed. It's not about you. It's not about you.

Today when we went for our walk, we didn't go to the school. We went to the big field in the park, where you are still allowed to go, and played frisbee for a while, trying not to hit the various small groups here and there enjoying the sunshine. While we were there I got an "Extreme alert" on my phone, telling me that Colorado's statewide stay-at-home order has been extended to 4/26. It's supposed to snow tonight and tomorrow, with a chance of snow every day all next week. I guess we'll be exercising mostly indoors for a while, except for shoveling snow. And that will be fine. Cause it's not about us.