Put Your Phone Down, Parents: We’ll Never Have This Chance Again

Thank you, quarantine, for this time with my kids.

This is hard. Very hard.

Occupying children all day long.

Oatmeal or eggs? Please brush your teeth before we log into Google Classroom. Sure, you can stay in your pajamas.

Do you need help with that essay? You should try to stick to your main point. Snack time! Who is hungry? Let’s get some fresh air.

Me llamo Emme. Repeat after me, guys. Uno, dos, tres, me llamo. . .

Lunch. We are out of bread. Peanut butter on Ritz Crackers it is. Did you submit your science assignment? If you don’t understand it, email your teacher.

Who needs a break? Yes, you play the recorder beautifully. Music to my ears. Let’s do some fitness. Oh, fitness isn’t a cool word. Sorry, let’s work out a little. Boogie woogie woogie.

Sure, you can go on Fortnite. For one hour. Then we are going to watch a family movie. Dinnertime, everyone! Come to the table.

So. . . how was everyone’s day?

We are living in unprecedented times. We are all uncertain. We are all confused. We all want to bash our skulls into the wall.

I admittedly threw a chair against the wall when my kids weren’t looking. It was on Monday, March 16, 2020. Day #1 of our new normal. I don’t typically have moments of rage like that.

It left a hole in the sheetrock. Hopefully the only damage the virus will cause inside my home.

Who knows how long this will be our new normal? Yes, life has been completely halted overnight. Yes, I am looking at the three same faces all day long. But, they are the three faces I love the most in the world.

What could be so bad about that?

There is much good that can come from this.

When will I ever have this time with my kids again? When will they ever be home 24 hours a day looking to me for care, guidance, and comfort?

I rushed their toddler years away, longing for a day when they’d be more independent, and I could have a break, a breath.

Well, I got that break. My sons are eight and nine. I’ve had three years of them out in the public-school world. With each new grade they enter, or friend they make, I feel them slipping away from me.

In a wonderful way — in a way that makes me see how well they’ve been raised. Sometimes. Pat on the back.

But, it’s also bittersweet. Because it went so damn fast.

Now they are back. Until this curve is flattened, I have my babies back. They are all mine to love, guide and influence the whole entire day.

It’s just like when they were adorable waddling, drunk toddlers glancing at mama for reassurance of their every move. Now they are older, looking at their mama again, through more experienced eyes. But the innocence is still there. And they still need their mommy.

With no sports, no playdates, no plans at all, we can stop. There is no rush. Yes, my dear, tell me what happened. Leave no detail out. Fill me in. And then what happened?

We have nothing but time. Tell me your fears. I’ll tell you mine. What do you really want to be when you grow up? In the NBA? So cool. Let’s go shoot hoops in the driveway. For how long? However long it takes.

We have nothing but time. Let’s listen to music. What’s your favorite song? Turn it up. I like it.

We have nothing but time. Let’s do a puzzle. You guys collect all the straight-edge pieces. Make the border. I’ll work on this tree. Grab me that green piece over there. I can’t reach it.

We have nothing but time. Let’s write a story. We can let it take us anywhere we want to go. To the moon? Let’s fly. Who do we meet up there? A striped whale with a giraffe’s neck and head. He sounds funny. What’s his name? Covid. Sigh. Covid, it is.

We have nothing but time. You don’t understand the lesson in fractions? Grab me four quarters. Ten dimes. Ready, do you get it now? Okay, don’t cry. You’ll get it. I’ll help you. As long as it takes.

Yes, this is hard. We need to stay home, isolate, stop the spread. Do our part.

Seize the opportunity to enjoy our children again. Love them up like we did when they were babies. There is so much that they’ve experienced, so much that they desire, fear, want, crave, dream that we don’t know.

Ask them. Now is the time.

Thank you for reading. Obligatory newsletter sign-up prompt here. I won’t bombard you. Pinky promise. Just a round up of my latest pieces sent to you from time to time.

Emme Beckett is a former non-profit speech/ grant writer turned mom blogger, turned essayist and occasional humorist.