Hard things are hard
Yesterday our Governor (Virginia) issued a stay-at-home order through June 10. I'll be another year older, god willing, when we emerge from this.
I've wanted to try to write about what it means to be a single mom by choice, or a solo parent, but right now it's so intertwined with everything that's going on, that I think what I really need to talk about is compassion and empathy. This is hard for all of us, but everyone's hard looks a little different.
It's probably a combination of surviving cancer and single parenthood, but my biggest pet peeve is people that disrespect my time. I've only got so much of it, and the demands for it are high. That's not unique to my situation, but it's one that I feel acutely. That's perhaps the biggest challenge for me as this child's only parent, working from home, with a lot of meetings that could've been an email.
Managing this circus is hard in the best of days, when we have preschool and family to share the load. Trying to spread a work-day full of video chat and email out to accommodate lunchtime and nap-time and "Mommy, come play with me?" time with is nearly impossible. Also, I'd like to occasionally eat, or pee, or if I'm feeling really crazy, enjoy 17 seconds of silence.
But when someone schedules a meeting a noon, just because it works for them? It threatens my whole house of cards. Lunch is late, which makes nap-time late, which means I won't make that 2PM video chat, or if I do, I'll have a whole lot of four-year old help. It's easy to see these days who has kids and who doesn't - mostly because they pop up on our Teams call - but if you're a parent, you can tell the frazzled look of another mom or dad, just trying to do their best and not drop all the balls that we're currently juggling. At least coupled parents can tag team a conference call or stagger their day a bit; I'm it. From 5:30 in the morning until about 8:30 at night, my time is not my own, then I stay up later than I should so I can have just a few moments of whatever it is I want to do, or not do. There is no Netflix binging or redecorating project going on in this house during quarantine. I'll probably still be reading the same book when we emerge 72 days from now.
And I'm so lucky. We are healthy. I'm employed, with flexibility and the ability to work my "cush laptop job."
And despite the above whinge, I'm grateful for that every day. (I've been hesitant to post this because I do realize how very privileged these problems are.)
What if I were a single parent working in the health care field? How would I find care for my child so I could go care for those who have been sickened by this virus? Would I bring it home to my child?
What if I were a single parent who owns a small business? How would I shepherd it through this economy and stay-at-home orders?
What if I were a single parent who works in a restaurant? How would I support my family with my livelihood pulled out from under me?
What if I were a coupled parent, but my spouse was abusive? How would I keep myself and my kids safe at home, while trying to keep us safe, at home?
What if I were single, and suffered from depression? How would I deal with being cut off from friends and family?
What if I were 13-year-sago me, in the middle of chemo, when a common cold could've hospitalized me? How would I deal with the sheer terror the novel coronavirus introduced into my already sleepless night?
What if I were a stay at home parent, whose partner's livelihood was threatened by this economy? How would we feed our family?
What if? What if we spent a little bit of time imagining what this might look like and feel like inside of other peoples' lives, and then tried having a little empathy? That's not unique to where we find ourselves as a society, in the middle of a global pandemic. Let's not let all this time we are spending with only ourselves for company allow us to think only of ourselves. How can you use this time to help those around you, who may be facing a different challenge in life?
I've wanted to try to write about what it means to be a single mom by choice, or a solo parent, but right now it's so intertwined with everything that's going on, that I think what I really need to talk about is compassion and empathy. This is hard for all of us, but everyone's hard looks a little different.
It's probably a combination of surviving cancer and single parenthood, but my biggest pet peeve is people that disrespect my time. I've only got so much of it, and the demands for it are high. That's not unique to my situation, but it's one that I feel acutely. That's perhaps the biggest challenge for me as this child's only parent, working from home, with a lot of meetings that could've been an email.
Managing this circus is hard in the best of days, when we have preschool and family to share the load. Trying to spread a work-day full of video chat and email out to accommodate lunchtime and nap-time and "Mommy, come play with me?" time with is nearly impossible. Also, I'd like to occasionally eat, or pee, or if I'm feeling really crazy, enjoy 17 seconds of silence.
But when someone schedules a meeting a noon, just because it works for them? It threatens my whole house of cards. Lunch is late, which makes nap-time late, which means I won't make that 2PM video chat, or if I do, I'll have a whole lot of four-year old help. It's easy to see these days who has kids and who doesn't - mostly because they pop up on our Teams call - but if you're a parent, you can tell the frazzled look of another mom or dad, just trying to do their best and not drop all the balls that we're currently juggling. At least coupled parents can tag team a conference call or stagger their day a bit; I'm it. From 5:30 in the morning until about 8:30 at night, my time is not my own, then I stay up later than I should so I can have just a few moments of whatever it is I want to do, or not do. There is no Netflix binging or redecorating project going on in this house during quarantine. I'll probably still be reading the same book when we emerge 72 days from now.
And I'm so lucky. We are healthy. I'm employed, with flexibility and the ability to work my "cush laptop job."
And despite the above whinge, I'm grateful for that every day. (I've been hesitant to post this because I do realize how very privileged these problems are.)
What if I were a single parent working in the health care field? How would I find care for my child so I could go care for those who have been sickened by this virus? Would I bring it home to my child?
What if I were a single parent who owns a small business? How would I shepherd it through this economy and stay-at-home orders?
What if I were a single parent who works in a restaurant? How would I support my family with my livelihood pulled out from under me?
What if I were a coupled parent, but my spouse was abusive? How would I keep myself and my kids safe at home, while trying to keep us safe, at home?
What if I were single, and suffered from depression? How would I deal with being cut off from friends and family?
What if I were 13-year-sago me, in the middle of chemo, when a common cold could've hospitalized me? How would I deal with the sheer terror the novel coronavirus introduced into my already sleepless night?
What if I were a stay at home parent, whose partner's livelihood was threatened by this economy? How would we feed our family?
What if? What if we spent a little bit of time imagining what this might look like and feel like inside of other peoples' lives, and then tried having a little empathy? That's not unique to where we find ourselves as a society, in the middle of a global pandemic. Let's not let all this time we are spending with only ourselves for company allow us to think only of ourselves. How can you use this time to help those around you, who may be facing a different challenge in life?
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