Owen’s first in-person day of 6th grade!

We had not planned to send the kids back to school but due to unforeseen circumstances, we changed our minds.

This is definitely not what we had anticipated for his first day of middle school but we’re rolling with it!

And waiting at the bus stop! Normally his stop would be in front of our house but with remote learning plus hybrid and whatnot, everything is abnormal.

Back at the table already.

Yep, I’m back to babysitting the kids at the kitchen table because they were both caught watching YouTube instead of being in class. Again. After just two days back in school after holiday break.

We thought Owen was in class. Had the chromebook out and looked busy. As usual. Then we got the email from attendance asking where he was. And the email from his teachers asking where he was. After some questioning and change of heart, Owen finally admitted he had been watching YouTube for two straight days.

So he got assigned to the table.

Katie felt all high and mighty because she didn’t have to sit at the table (the known punishment) and then got caught on YouTube an hour later. Hence them both being at the table.

Yes I am thankful that I have an at-home business where I can work at the table with them. Or at the very least walk through the kitchen or by their desks throughout the day. But this is exhausting.

I posted in a Facebook group and I am not alone. By a long shot.

Woodland Book with an Educator

Tonight was a fundraiser for the food bank—Woodland teachers and administrators read their favorite books on Google meets! Every 15 minutes you’d switch to someone new! We listened to Katie’s current teacher and her second grade teacher, Owen’s third grade teacher, the Elementary Principal, and a friend who is a teacher! We loved it, and the past teachers remembered them and loved seeing them, too!

You guys. Today was a day.

I had grand plans then life happened.

  • I spent too much time refereeing kid drama (today proved they get into trouble when I’m not sitting at the table with them). Plus learned they’ve both snuck their devices which should be an instant loss for a week but…I was so overwhelmed with everything else I forgot.
  • I spent 4.5 hours with Apple tech support (chat and phone!) trying to figure out a bizarre password issue.
  • I had multiple random technology and business spreadsheet issues (that necessitated asking a math teacher friend for help).
  • Discovering WHEN I WENT TO PLACE MY MONTHLY ORDER at 10pm that my business credit card was expired and the new card supposedly arrived a month ago but I’ve not seen it (so I got to hunt for that—unsuccessfully I might add—tonight).
  • And then I discovered that one of the kids iPads is literally covered in something sticky.

The best part about today? It’s over in 21 minutes.

And today was a phone call from Katie’s teacher.

She said she just wanted to touch base because Katie hasn’t been showing up for class and when she is there she’s often not paying attention. WAIT, WHAT?

She said they can see how long kids are logged into class each day and it should be between four and four and a half hours. And she’s been getting 1-3. Most days are 2 or less. UM EXCUSE ME WHAAAAAT???!!

I mean we know she spends too much time farting around and we are constantly telling her to get back to class, but I’m here with her all day and she appears to be in class. Except apparently not. Her teacher said that she often doesn’t pay attention in class—half an hour in she gets called on and doesn’t even have her book open. So what is she doing???

Of course I’m home but I’m working and doing stuff so don’t pay close attention to her (just like I don’t with Owen) and yes we’ve had some internet issues but not hours worth. Or weeks worth. So it looks like for the near future she will be sitting right next to me at the table and I will be working on my laptop again so I can keep her on track. Just what I want to have to do, right?

The worst part of all this is that she’s waaaaaay behind on school work. She doesn’t do it in class when she’s supposed to OR in her asynchronous time in the afternoon (when she literally has a list of assignments from her teacher) so we’re trying to get her caught up. And that’s a complete joy as I’m sure you can imagine.

We have told her that we know this year is weird. And it sucks. And it’s hard. But none of that is an excuse to skip schoolwork.

Heaven help us.

I just opened an email from owen’s teacher.

I wanted you to know that Owen is struggling to attend math class. Lately, he has been coming to class, turning his camera off and not responding when I check on him. For example, his icon is in my class right now but he is not responding to me when I am trying to help him. Anything you can do to encourage him to stay with the class would be appreciated.

UGH.

That was from 9:19am when I was putting on my shoes right behind him. And saw it on the screen. But couldn’t see if his camera was on or what he was listening to with headphones on.

So needless to say we had a HUGE discussion with him about it. Especially after his poor grades last marking period (two As, two Bs, a C, and a D). He hasn’t been doing his homework, he hasn’t been asking for help, and apparently he hasn’t been active in class.

I don’t want them in school because that’s just not safe but this remote learning sucks 100%.

Halloween parade Covid-style

The Primary and Elementary schools had a drive by parade today—teachers and staff dressed up and parents could bring their costumed kids through.

Sounds nice and easy right? Whoa. It was a traffic nightmare. The school is less than five minutes away and it took us an hour round trip! I think the turnout was much larger than they expected PLUS they had both schools (across the street from one another) at the same time.

The kids also made me shake my head in frustration. I thought it would be totally cool to let them sit in the back with the gate open so everyone could see their costumes. Nope, neither wanted to do it. Like AT ALL. And once we got there Owen refused to put his mask on because he was afraid people were going to make fun of him. And I told Katie she could hang out of the window to wave and she refused. Ugh. Kids!!

I took “school pics” this morning since it’s that time of year.

Owen came downstairs in a brand new blue shirt and jeans. Bestill my heart. Of course there was hair and outfit drama with Katie…so that was fun.

She was in such a state that I told her we’d try her photos another day and then headed out in the yard (I made him take one photo with the collar up)…

And then it was down the street to the park.

Where Katie finally joined us. In a different outfit and a much better mood!

I told Katie to tickle him…

Tried to get them both jumping. It was a riot.

Her turn…

Back at home…

6th grade physical

The required sixth grade physicals were still required even though they aren’t technically at school…so off we went. It was really almost eerie walking through an empty hospital. Especially since the parking garage was as full as usual—where was everyone?!

Owen also had to get three shots which he wasn’t thrilled about but at least he just sucks it up and does it without issue.

His turn…and now he gets it.

Tom was home for the long weekend so I told him he got ALL tech questions and school issues today. He kind of said WHATEVS and planted himself on the couch playing video games.

School starts at 9.

8:55—Owen discovers he has no power on his entire workstation. No lights, no Chromebook charging, nothing. Katie (across the room) is fine. Whaaaaat?! Tom looked at me like AYFKM? I just smiled, chuckled, and said welcome to my Life.

While he was troubleshooting, I was getting Owen set up on my laptop (I kinda wanted to make Tom do that as well so he could truly experience what my days are like, but I didn’t want to be that cruel). Then, because he was messing around with the breaker box, he cut power to Katie’s station (and Chromebook!) so the WiFi went out and she was dropped from her class. And of course could not reconnect. SO PANIC AND DRAMA ENSUED.

Time? 9:03am

Me: Yep. That’s about right.
Hubby: ——

Turns out one half of the wall outlet Owen was plugged into just up and died. Completely random. You can’t make this shit up.

Then there was drama with Katie’s headphones (every damn day) and Owen was caught watching YouTube. 臘‍♀️

Needless to say Tom has newfound respect for me and promises not to complain about my daily texts I send him when he’s not here.

It took just four minutes.

Well today started out okay with me waking up before my alarm and I got to have some nice leisurely quiet time before the kids got up.

And they showered without much drama and they ate breakfast without much drama and we took school pictures without much drama… And then the shitshow started.

Owen had some technical difficulties dealing with an external monitor and Bluetooth headphones and Google meets and when I asked him if these were the same headphones that he used last year he said yes but they didn’t work for Google meets then either.

YOU THINK YOU MIGHT HAVE TOLD US THAT AT SOME POINT BEFORE THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL?! (What I was screaming in my head—not what I said to him.) But he was completely losing it and this was him just four minutes in to Remote Learning. /cry/ Even though I wanted them home to be safe…THIS. JUST. SUCKS.

But things have gotten a little better since 9:04 AM when it was the worst and I think we might make it through this day without me needing to drink a gallon of margaritas.

I went outside to enjoy the weather in my egg chair…and Owen came out on a break and he seemed much better.

Remote learning 2.0 this year!

Our school district (Woodland Community Consolidated School District #50) announced tonight that we will have full remote learning until October 30 at a minimum. Honestly I’m relieved since I had decided to keep them home (but was STILL secretly wondering if I’d made the right decision) so I’m glad they actually made that decision for me.

Lots of people are upset and I feel badly for them. And don’t get me wrong I’m not looking forward to remote learning (even if it is 2.0) but the health and safety of the students and staff are of the utmost importance. I’d rather have my kids be behind a bit in school but be alive to catch up. (And, frankly, all kids are going to be behind since we’re all in this together.)

We just have to remember this is all new and we’re all doing the best we can. We will survive.

Am I sending the kids to school this year?

Up until this point I’ve been going back and forth about sending the kids to school this fall. I even answered YES to the district survey about wanting a partial return. But this. These two Facebook posts have pretty much changed my mind.

Sending teachers and students back to school buildings is human sacrifice at this point.

And this post written by a dad in Fairfax county (where we last lived.)

This is long but totally worth the read. Especially if you are someone that wants/needs schools to open regardless of the risk and lack of logistical details provided to families and staff.

From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in our Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families, this is it gang, 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”
“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”
“Oh hell no.”
“No absolutely not.”
“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”
“Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right – the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a–holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.”

Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.”

How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day.