Last spring, most of my weekday afternoons were marked by a flurry of texts with my 7th grader, negotiating where she wanted to go after school. The ice cream shop. The library. To hang out in front of a Vons grocery store (sorry, kiddo, that’s called loitering). All of this, in Los Angeles, with kids I didn’t always know, who had parents I definitely didn't know. After talking to a few fellow middle school moms, I found a certain level of peace with it. It’s a normal part of growing up in a big city and becoming oriented toward the world — friends over family.
Enter: the pandemic.
No more dropping her off at the mall, or to shop on Melrose, or at a Saturday afternoon movie. No more sleepovers. Just 24 hours a day. At home. With each other.
We’re all too familiar with the pain points of quarantine — the constant togetherness, the lack of alone time, the boredom, the spiking anxiety. And yes, in many ways, kids are missing out on a “normal” childhood. But, in some ways, it’s been a blessing — notably, that certain aspects of impending teenhood have been put on hold. And the sweeter parts of childhood — the parts I was starting to miss — have returned.
Evening cuddles are back
I could never have predicted this: She comes and cuddles in my bed a couple nights a week. Sometimes, we even talk. I try not to make too big a deal of it, but my heart swells inside.
I’m getting to know her friends' parents
Negotiating rules around where, when, and how our kids can meet up in the world, amid a pandemic, means I’ve had to have the kind of conversations that bring parents closer. What are our shared values — if any? How am I keeping you safe — and vice versa?
All-family outings are cool again?
We started letting my daughter stay home alone when she turned 12 — an option she took advantage of with frequency. It meant independence for her, and a lack of sibling squabbles for us. Win-win. And while, after 150-plus days together, we all need some space, the health crisis has been an opportunity for us to spend time together as a family. We hike together as a family. We go to the beach as a family. The limitations of social distancing mean we fill a lot of our social needs with each other. It hasn’t always been pretty, but we’re building skills I don’t think we would have otherwise.
We chit-chat more
When you’ve been on Zoom all day — at age 12 or at age 40-something — sometimes you just need to chit-chat. About dumb stuff. With whoever is sitting nearby.
Family movie night has returned
Her taste in movies has diverged from our taste recently. But with so few options for leisure time, the Friday night family movie has happened with surprising frequency.
Friendships are more wholesome
I can’t tell you how many (socially distanced, masked) walks with a friend she’s taken since we’ve been on lockdown. Or picnics. There isn’t this I-want-she-has-I-need materialism of shopping together at Brandy Melville or Urban Outfitters. Friends we quaranteam with bake and make popsicles together. It’s about being together, and connection, in a wonderfully refreshing, down-to-earth way.
No boys
I would be remiss not to mention that we’ve had a 6-plus-month reprieve from wondering about boys.
All that said, quarantine is not all giggles and unicorns — by any means. There are furtive text chains and lots of closed bedroom doors, lights on well after bedtime, and mood swings like you wouldn’t believe. I’m not taking it personally, though.
It would be weird if there weren’t.
