My Kid Is Back in School and I’m On Edge

In our area of Alaska, case counts are low. Masks are required for 3rd graders and up, and all teachers and staff. But four schools have already had to temporarily shut down for cleaning and contact tracing due to enrolled students in those schools contracting COVID-19.

So far, the parents were smart enough to keep the kids home once they showed symptoms. No big outbreaks have occurred.

But it feels difficult to plan my workweek knowing that my little one could get sick, or someone in his school could get sick, and everything could shut down for at least a week.

Or indefinitely.

And then there’s the reality that in-person school during the pandemic is strange and altered.

I don’t get to park my car and walk him inside like we did last year.

I’m not allowed in the school at all, and neither are any other parents.

Because of this, it’s taken him longer to transition into the routine than it did last year.

I mean, imagine that you’re a little kid and you have to go into a strange new place (or a place you haven’t seen in six months) with new teachers, all without your mom going in with you.

Not even once.

The thought is more than a little bit intimidating.

But after nearly two weeks, my son is starting to get used to school. He emerges happily each day, his shoes filled with sand, and says, “’ank you for taking me to school!”

So I drop him off each day and hold my breath. What if I get the call that someone in the school has contracted the virus?

Right now I’m looking back on a pre-COVID-19 fall with intense longing. Back then, I never had to worry about this.

I wasn’t pointing a touchless thermometer at my kid’s forehead every morning to make sure he wasn’t sick. I didn’t own a tiny, toddler-sized pulse oximeter to make sure his breathing is normal whenever I start to feel panicky.

I hadn’t stocked up on a set of spaceship-themed, double-layered, nose-wire-having, ear-adjustable masks.

But this is our reality now. I’m thankful we aren’t doing Zoom school (yet), because he hated that last year. It literally made him crawl under the covers and sink into a deep depression.

And he was 3.

And yet, I can’t settle into this new routine with any level of comfort.

I was so utterly, happily settled last February and early March. My son went to school, I worked from home, and life was smooth with just a little bump here and there. If he got a runny nose, I wiped it, checked his temperature to make sure he didn’t have a fever, and still sent him to school.

Now the thought of a runny nose sends a spike of dread through me.

Obviously, I wouldn’t send him to school if he were to have one tiny sign of illness. Even if it was just a cold and not COVID-19.

So I know I’d end up attempting to get my work done from home with my kid around. Which stresses me the eff out and is impossible to do for more than 15 minutes at a time.

And if he did end up having the virus, there’d be all sorts of fear and guilt to work through while also trying to care for my son and stay well myself.

I work 30 hours a week. I’m a freelancer with no paid leave or benefits. Now more than ever, it’s critical that I cling to that work. There’s no guarantee that my husband will have his teaching job next year.

We have a son to feed, a house to pay for, a future to attempt to save up for, and student loans to pay. But if school shuts down again for us, or if my family gets sick, everything will become nearly impossible to cope with.

I’m finding this constant state of uncertainty downright treacherous to live with. Everything is wobbly, shaky, and scary. I’m grasping at moments of joy when they come and clinging to them with all my might.

So to the mamas who have to do online school now full-time, I’m so sorry. Especially if you’re a working mama with kids who miss school intensely.

To the mamas who are doing a blended model, I’m so sorry. It’s hard to shift your work plans to accommodate two or three days of school every week.

And to the mamas who are lucky like me and still have full-time school, I’m sorry. We live with the guilt that we’re putting our kids at greater risk. Yet they need school — and so do we — and if it gets pulled out from under us, we aren’t sure how we’ll get through it.

Because if the pandemic has taught me one thing, it’s that you never know what tomorrow will look like.

Or even your next moment.

So I salute all us mamas on edge. We’ll get through this, even if we emerge out the other side with half-schooled kids and unhappy bosses — who, in my most super-humble opinion, better be happy we even got any work done at all.

The thing that will get us through is this: There is another side. We may not reach it for several months, or a year, or even longer.

But it’s coming.

The other side is coming, mamas.