By Theresa Vargas | The Washington Post
It is not yet lunchtime, and I have already explained climate change to a 7-year-old, made a homemade book with a 5-year-old and turned my kitchen table into a glittery mess.
I can do this, I think.
My God, how long will I have to do this? I also think.
If I had to home-school my children under different circumstances, it might be fun, energizing even. But quarantine-forced home schooling is not some planned adventure. It is the parenting equivalent of that “Naked and Afraid” show, in which people are suddenly dropped into the wild, exposed from their necks to their toes, and expected to survive using only their wits and creativity.
One major difference (besides pants), though, is that at least the participants on that show enter the unknown with a definitive exit date. They know they only have to live that way for 21 days. Right now, parents across the country are trying to work from home while also teaching their children math, science, reading, writing, geography, art and whatever else they were already studying in school, not knowing if they will have to do that for weeks or months.
The result: Many of us can’t wait for this reality show to end.
The other result: Many of us have thought more about our children’s teachers in the past three days than we have in the past three months.
