park shut downLucee Santini

To me, the home was just a place to sleep and feed the kids—no more play dates. No celebrations, except for a virtual Birthday party, where the guests drove by for cake and goodie bags while dropping off gifts.

Virtual Learning 101

I remember our last Birthday party, pre-pandemic. It was March and news announced that there was a deadly virus called “the Corona Virus.” I wondered who would show up as people started to get nervous.

I had already been sick, unbeknownst to me, I probably had Covid. I had never been so sick in my life.

We went all out at the park, bounce house, balloons, food and cake and I knew it was our last Birthday party for a long time. I felt it in my soul. Things were about to change drastically….

I could never imagine that the state of the world would become so chaotic and unsure. People would start stockpiling and hoarding toilet paper and hand sanitizer. That I would have to show up at Target before they opened and stand in line to get my necessities. Life became so complicated and we started living in fear.

The stress started to get to us. My son’s OCD kicked in and he washed his hands nonstop and then asked us to watch him washing his hands to make sure he washed them thoroughly. This went on for about a year.

No one could prepare me for virtual learning. I sat at my computer researching homeschooling, resenting all the homeschool moms I used to make fun of. They were probably thinking, “who has the last laugh now, we got this!”

But I was going to be perfect at it. I joined Facebook groups and organized their bedrooms so that they would be their little school. I was excited.

We went shopping at IKEA for desks. It was going to be awesome. I was going to be a home-school mom and I would be great at it.

I remember driving up to the school, mask on, to get all the books - instructed to not get out of the car and just crack open the window as the teachers handed us the books with gloves on.

I left in tears.

How did this become our life?

I felt like I was living a dream, a nightmare. I would surely wake up soon from all of this.

I forgot that my husband worked from home and that the internet was about to get temperamental causing more stress in our household.

I had two boys two years apart, at the age where they started arguing. I would have to manage that while they were both in their separate rooms, jumping back and forth between teachers. Breaks and snacks were at different times.

I had to finally bring one child downstairs and run up and down the stairs all day navigating the two classes.

I remember when I could have them sit and eat lunch together for 20 minutes before the schedule changed and I felt like I was on top of the world.

I can do this. I’m doing it. I’m fine.

Until I couldn’t manage my son’s ADHD because of my ADHD, the teacher must have seen me at the end of the bed crying out of frustration because she sent me a comforting text message - it would be okay.

My son couldn’t sit still and listen. He made paper airplanes and played with his water bottle and pencils. The teacher finally just cut him off and I would walk into his room and ask him where the teacher was. He would just say that she turned him off.

I realized that most of the class was just like him…the teacher asked a student not to jump on her bed, play, or make funny faces on the screen. We saw pets, brothers, and sisters walking in and out of the room, and people talking in the background because the mic was left on.

Virtual learning was a disaster for the parents and the teachers. Everyone was losing it slowly.

We became increasingly tired and eventually, I slipped into a depression.

Covid and Depression

It wasn’t working. My kids needed school. They needed their friends, the teachers, and the playground. They needed physical interaction. They needed to walk down the hallways past the bathrooms and the Deans office (which they knew well). They needed to giggle with their friends about nonsense and get told to keep their voices off. And then do it again and again.

I started to slip into a depression. My kids were not supposed to have this life. I felt trapped for them and myself. I couldn’t work and had no motivation.

There was so much fear. I couldn’t see my parents and they couldn’t see their Grandkids. On Mother’s day, I dropped off flowers outside my parent’s house. There was no special breakfast or fun family road trip.

My husband and I worked from home and managing virtual school at the same time were so stressful, we fought and the kids fought. It was chaotic and unmanageable. People around us were dying and getting sick. The world was going crazy.

I went to the doctor and told her that I was slipping into depression. Basic chores became too much for me and I lost motivation to do anything. I didn’t want to die but I knew that I was getting to the point where I didn’t want to get out of bed.

This was a dangerous place to be as I had struggled with depression years ago and spiraled. Now I had kids who needed me more than ever and I wasn’t about to let that happen.

She increased my meds.

Going Back to School

I thought it would never come. I had prayed for this day for so long. The kids were beyond excited. They asked me to sign them up for every after-school activity that was available. In the past, I begged them to do sports activities but they just wanted to come home right after school.

How things had changed….in just one year.

I used to have to beg them to get out of bed. Now, they were dressed and ready before I woke up. They were so ready for school.

And so was I.

Teaching to Get out of the House

Because of my depression, I thought it might help to get out of the house. I volunteered at school and signed up to be a substitute teacher.

When the kids went back to school and I saw them playing in the playground, even though they were in zones, their joy filled me up and I suddenly had purpose again.

I didn’t need a job because I could work from home and I didn’t want to be a teacher, but I needed to get out desperately. I could not be in my house any longer. What used to be my haven, a place for family gatherings full of wonderful memories had turned into a place I despised and loathed.

Everything was a reminder that the world was crumbling. I went to the bathroom and I would be extra careful of how much toilet paper I used. I would go on Facebook to see my friends, only to see that someone died or was dying. Everyone was fighting with different views on the pandemic. It was depressing.

To me, the home was just a place to sleep and feed the kids—no more playdates. No celebrations, except for a virtual Birthday party, where the guests drove by for cake and goodie bags while dropping off gifts.

I felt trapped in my own space.

Teachers were calling out sick because of Covid and they would call me to come in. They were so grateful as many parents and teachers didn’t want to volunteer or work anymore. Everyone was afraid of the virus.

The kids wore masks and their desks were separated with plastic barriers. It was a strange situation. But I would take it over what we had before.

Little did the school realize that every time they called me in, they were slowly bringing me out of my depression.

They were grateful for the help. But I was more grateful to get out and be around people.

Embracing Change

I had never in a million years thought I would work in a school. I worked from home and was my boss. I enjoyed being creative and doing my own thing. But the passion was gone.

However, this was a charter school that emphasizes classical education along with virtues like honesty, courage, kindness, wisdom, and humility.

When I left school after a full day’s work, I noticed that my parenting skills improved and I was more patient with my family.

I was happier. I had a purpose. The environment at the school was lifting me up, always seeing goodness and beauty in everything, yet allowing the kids to make choices on their own and learn from them.

How the Kids Changed me

The kids had changed. They were happy to be back but they were scared. I took a 5-year-old to the nurse's office because he had snot running down his face. This was just to take his temperature. He burst into tears. I asked him what was wrong. He said that nurses didn’t want to get anyone else sick.

My heart broke for him as I held his hand and walked him to the nurses.

These little people were so vulnerable. They also had PTSD

from the previous year.

But as the days turned into months, normalcy started to return. I would go in and they recognized me and their faces would light up.

Their joy became my joy. I had found my way back. Those little people helped lift me out of my depression and get back to life.

Thank you little people for giving me purpose in a world that seemed hopeless.