I need a hat rack: Too many roles during COVID-19
At 5 am, I wake up, throw on some clothes, grab a cup of tea, and boot up my computer. I have about 2 and a half hours to crank in as much work as I can before the day actually begins. You see, at 8 am, my family wakes up. Then it’s a rush to get the girls fed, dressed, and online by 9 am for school. Between 9 and 5, my husband and I are typically on video calls, emails, writing, and more. And that doesn’t include the time spent making sure the girls are online themselves several times a day – and actually doing the work.
Sound familiar? It should. Millions of other families out there are doing the same in these times of sheltering in place. And let me speak for nearly all families (which I have never done before), we’re all exhausted.
As a parent, we all wear a lot of hats. But since the pandemic hit in March, we’ve also been adding so much more to the ongoing job duties. For me – and other families with kids with disabilities – it’s just too much to bear.
We can’t give 100% to anything at any given time. And it is showing.
Those, like my husband and me, who didn’t lose their jobs and are able to work from home, are straddling career demands and their kids’ development. We know we’re lucky to have understanding employers. But it doesn’t stop the feeling that we often need to choose between our kids and our jobs, several times a day.
Don’t get me wrong, things are never all ‘sunshine and roses’ when it comes to parenting children with disabilities. (Hey, I am sure it’s not for parents of typical kids as well.) But COVID-19 has had an additional impact on children with special needs because so much of the help that our children have a legal right to has disappeared.
Under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), children with disabilities are legally entitled to free educational services that are tailored to their own needs, from physical therapy to speech therapy to an in-class aide or assistant. Yet with COVID-19, many families, including us, have found that those needed services and supports are nearly non-existent.
For example, last year we fought hard with the school district to get one daughter a one-on-one aide to support her, as transitioning and loud noises in her middle school, caused violent outbursts when she was left on her own. Now in high school, she still has an aide. However, that aide can only work remotely with her due to the pandemic. When there are transition issues now, there is only so much the aide can do. It’s up to Matt or me to drop what we are doing and address the issue. Sometimes this can take a minute or two; other times, it’s an hour or longer.
Then there’s my other daughter, who is thriving with remote learning. It’s turned on a switch in her and she’s excelling. It’s something no-one, including us, has ever imagined. Yet, being more severe on the Autism spectrum, she needs constant tending. Someone needs to make sure she is online and active, which means a person needs to be present with her for every lesson. The school is not helping us in any way with her, which means someone at home needs to take the helm.
Think of it this way: the schools are expecting parents – many with full-time jobs – to be a teacher, a teacher’s aide, a physical therapist, a speech therapist, an occupational therapist, a PE teacher, and, let’s face it, the IT person. I don’t have enough room on my head for this many hats, nor the expertise to do it well.
Then there are my own COVID-19 woes. As the school year started, I froze due to being so overwhelmed. The continual ‘too overwhelmed to do anything’ led to depression, since I felt I was failing on all fronts.
I now know has been quite common. According to a Boston University study, depression has tripled in the US since the pandemic. For me, I tuned out and barely did enough to get through the week.to be honest, if I hadn’t turned things around and worked a bunch of 50 to 60 hour weeks, I might have lost my job.
What turned it around for me was to ask for help. I asked for help at work to finish a major assignment. I sought out a therapist. I strategized with Matt ways to lighten the load. And I began focusing my energy back on creative endeavors: I canned tons of plum jam from fruit from our tree. I began pickling. And I have reorganized and redecorated my home (especially those walls with all the holes as a result of my daughter’s frustration at not being able to speak).
There are days I can’t stand my spouse or my kids. It’s not that I love them any less. I just can’t stand being with them 24/7. I am tired of fighting with my daughter that yes, she needs pants before going on a video lesson. (Seriously, it’s an everyday fight! She wants to embrace the COVID lifestyle so much!) I am more often annoyed that my other daughter, who needs routine and plans ahead, asks me daily when is the exact date she can go back to school. And when I answer, ‘I don’t know,’ she throws a fit. If my husband keeps ignoring all that laundry that’s folded and just needs to be put away, I’m going to scream.
I’ll admit it: I enjoyed my time away from them while working. I enjoyed being with different people, co-workers, and colleagues. I enjoyed taking a walk and picking up something to eat at a cool, hip – or even not so hip – restaurant.
Being at a ‘workplace’ also gave me boundaries – even when I worked from home while the kids were at school. I knew what I needed to achieve and did it. Being at home with the girls blurs the lines of priorities. Of course, it has to; there’s no way around it.
I wish I could end this with some sort of inspirational ‘you don’t need to be a supermom’ kind of thing such as Kristen Gillibrand did. Or share some message of hope or say that I am strong enough. The truth is there is no one answer or even easy solutions to something this complex.
In the end, only I can advocate for what’s best for me and my family. And what I advocate for at this moment is… a nap and a place to hang my hats while doing so.
