Here's the thing about "this is a time to slow down and enjoy the gift of time with family and letting go of our schedules and our need to be productive:" It's painful. There, I said it. I know our old way of doing things was neurotic and toxic and isolating...but letting go of that is painful. I was attached to it. 

Today I felt the pain. Today I had to stop everything and grab my seven-year-old and lay on the couch for awhile, surrounded by dirty dishes and Chromebooks and dog hair. Today was, in a word, janky. 

I'm letting you in on this mess because I have a sneaking suspicion I am not the only one struggling today. Maybe I'm not the only one who scrolled past pictures of moms who were resourceful and energetic enough to actually acknowledge that today was St. Patrick's Day. Maybe I'm not the only one who compared herself to those moms and felt like a failure. Maybe I'm not the only mom who wondered where everyone else found the energy to deal with this thing that's actually turning out to be pretty impossible. 

If you are one of those moms, please hear me when I say that you are not alone, and you are doing just fine. This is the part where we wrestle, struggle, and feel generally miserable. Maybe that means the other side of this is closer than it was yesterday. 

I'll probably write more tomorrow but for now I am signing off with an elbow bump and a wish for strength and a spark of whatever it is you need to get through tomorrow. 

Today was the first day of this...thing...that we are doing now. I needed to come up with a name for it, and here were my first two ideas:
March Madness - because we don't get actual March Madness, and this situation right now is legit madness. But the words made me anxious, so I didn't go with this choice.
Spring Sabbatical - Because a sabbatical seems like something that only fancy people do. (Side note: I tried to explain the meaning of a sabbatical to my nine-year-old boy this morning, and I made the mistake of using the example of a college professor taking a semester off to go to Iceland to study volcanoes. So now if you ask my son what a sabbatical is, he will tell you it's when a college professor goes to Iceland to study volcanoes.)

Anyhoo, I nixed Spring Sabbatical in favor of a more realistic description of this...thing...that we are all doing now, which is:

Shall we begin? Today was day one of Janky Home School, in which I introduced the schedule that I swore I wouldn't make because schedules turn into straight jackets when my rule-following little hands get hold of them. But I caved and made a schedule late last night because I needed a security blanket, and mommies get schedules instead of security blankets. (Although I do have a security blanket that I keep in a desk cabinet and wear all day when I'm writing. No big deal, let's move on.)

I separately showed each kid the schedule and they each independently found it personally offensive that they would be expected to take a shower EVERY DAY. Other than that, they were cool with the schedule after their customary 9,536 questions about anything that involves them, ever. I just noticed that this schedule has just as much screen time as it does learning time. OH WELL. Life be janky.

Since we hadn't picked up our packets from their teachers yet, the kids got to pick what they wanted to do for learning time. Will chose to teach Emily division with remainders, and Emily was all about it. Better him than me. My earliest memory of crying about math (not my only memory of crying about math. My earliest memory of crying about math) had to do with division.

The rest of the day flowed along well, and we got a chance to pick up packets from their teachers, which was swell because the kids had no less than 5,765 questions about what would be in the packets, and it was a relief to be able to answer at least 4,567 of them. Seeing their teachers and their school was like another security blanket. Everything feels weird right now but their teachers are still THE BEST EVER and their school is still the sweet, old, stable, friendly place it's always been. Also, it smelled really clean, for the record.

After we got our packets we dropped off eight bags at Bags of Hope, a local nonprofit that supplies free food provisions to students experiencing food insecurity. Not because I am such a philanthropist, but because Emily's Girl Scout troop put together enough bags to feed eight children for a week, and I volunteered to keep the bags in my trunk, which turned into me driving a lot of food around to a lot of places without having my act together enough to figure out where and when and how to drop them off.

I finally had time, so we did it today, which worked out nicely because the kids got to be involved, and because these bags were supposed to be for Spring Break, which doesn't seem to be a thing right now, so we were happy to do one small thing to help children who rely on our school cafeteria (you know, the one that's closed indefinitely?) for meals.

After the Community Service portion of Janky Home School, it was time for Physical Education, also known as Dog Needs to Poop. We took a walk on a local trail and it was gloriously refreshing and beautiful, even with the gray mid-50s weather. We brought some friends and I was reminded that no matter what is going on, kids always find a way to have fun with sticks and dirt and water. It made my heart happy, if you want to get all schmaltzy about it.

This would be a good time to remind you (and me) that I have a job. I tried to squeeze in priorities whenever I could but I really have to figure out a better way to get work done while my kids are out of school. I am definitely the first and only person to have this problem. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

For dinner I made Change Your Life Chicken because The Lazy Genius is my life coach who doesn't know it yet. Emily in particular is a big fan of this dish because she likes the crispy chicken skin. However, I am not a big fan of the questions she asked at dinner, which included:
Is this chicken skin I'm eating?
Is this what human skin would taste like?
Are humans edible?

It's probably best if we move on now.

When Nora Ephron was growing up, her mother constantly told her that everything is copy. I take this to mean that everything will make a great story someday, even if it feels uncomfortable, or sad, or uncertain, or frightening. As someone who likes to have a schedule and a blueprint, I am not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy these days. But I am writing it all down, and I am looking around and noticing how my kids are taking all this upheaval and uncertainty like champions, and how my friends and neighbors are cheering each other on, and how strangers are offering free resources and support to each other.

It may be a janky home school, but it will make a great story some day.