Quarantine meltdown is real, folks! It's real...and it finally hit my house last week.
We were doing so well. Each of my children have a schedule that includes flexibility. They have locations they can work quietly and focus on what needs to be done. They are eating well, exercising and getting good amounts of sleep. We were doing everything right!
My son's teacher, bless her heart, decided that after 5 solid weeks of distance learning, it was time for a "make-up" week. He logged in Monday morning to find very little to do and was overjoyed! He did have a couple assignments that he needed to "fix" as he had forgotten to answer a question, highlight as instructed, or color (he is in 4th grade!).
We sat down on Tuesday morning to "fix" and that's when it happened. My usually calm, introverted son started to melt. Right before my eyes. He sputtered and choked up. His voice raised and his shoulders slumped. And he said some things. Clearly. The words coming from his mouth sounded similar to some thoughts that I have entertained lately.
"I hate this stupid quarantine!"
"I just want to go to school and see my friends."
"I'm tired of doing this!"
"Quarantine sucks!"
Well said, young sir. Well said!
My answer was less eloquent. I decided to go with my usual, mother-of-the-year, always a teacher style:
"Can't we just finish this question first?"
Ouch!
Definitely not what he needed to hear.
He gave me the "look" (he's mastered the "teacher" look already...after seeing it for 10 years!) and I realized where we were.
We were at the end of the rope,
the end of the line,
the wits end,
out of luck,
out of energy,
out of hope.
No hope. That's what I saw most in my son's meltdown.
He was losing hope:
of ever seeing his friends again,
of being the funny guy in class (yep, he wears that crown, too)
of goofing around and inventing games on the playground
of being just a normal kid
Is that where you are? Tired, worn down, out of sorts, out of joy, out of hope?
As adults, we know this will pass, but sometimes the Quarantine Meltdown starts to happen to us, too. We lose track of time and the days of the week. We start thinking negatively about ourselves, our families, our situations and this whole Quarantine thing becomes a big insurmountable issue.
If that is where you find yourself, then today is the day to remember who you are.
You are an amazing educator that loves kids.
You are a person who leads from the heart every day.
You are a valued friend and colleague we can't live without.
You are strong.
You are smart.
You are beautiful.
You are loved!
During this week of teacher and staff appreciation, remember who you are. Take time to celebrate all you have done this year and the amazing person you are! Think back to the connections you have made, the a-ha moments you have seen, and the growth of the students in your classes. You are a difference maker. Don't forget that. Ever.
How's my son? Well, after putting my foot soundly in my mouth, I paused. I looked at my son, breaking in front of me, and I realized we were going to have to do something different, go somewhere new, get out of the house, now! I asked if he'd like to go somewhere, anywhere. He nodded yes.
We ended the "work" day at noon on Tuesday, no our usual style! I packed the kids into the van and we drove off. Our "adventure" included a stop at In-and-Out Burger (let's be honest - a chocolate shake fixes many things!), and a drive to a rushing river in the mountains, fed by the snow melting at the peak.
We hiked, we jumped from one rock to another, we sat and listened to the roar, and we took a breath.
Soon enough, the kids were asking to go home. Actually asking. We had filled our lungs with fresh air, our ears with the music of water, and somehow, despite everything, our hearts had found hope.
That is my wish for you this week, too.
Take time.
Find hope.
Be well.
Kim
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