School Ended

We barely noticed school ended, so that was weird.  The official last day of school was June 23rd but we finished remote learning a few days before that.  The day after we got back from Utah was the day we were scheduled to drop off text books at the high school, clean out Ethan's locker at the middle school, and pick up all the stuff left in the boys' desks at the elementary school.

We drove up to the elementary school with a sign in our window that had our last name, the boys' first names, and the names of their teachers.  Then a PTSA volunteer found the garbage bags filled with my boys' things and passed it through the window.  There weren't any teachers there to wave and say goodbye, no balloons, and no fanfare.  I started to cry as they passed us our stuff as the reality of our abrupt halt to everything normal sank in even deeper.  What has COVID done to us that we can't even walk into the school to say goodbye to the teachers?  Thankfully my boys were underwhelmed by the whole thing so I quickly wiped my eyes and drove away.

Ethan was thrilled to skip the whole 8th grade promotion ceremony.  I forced him to take a few pictures of his last time in middle school and then it was over.  Another abrupt ending of a big milestone.  I wanted to cry.  He couldn't have cared less.  What is wrong with my children??

Ethan happily returning his math book

Walking down eerily empty halls

After we got someone to look up his locker combination because he couldn't remember it, we cleaned out his locker and  left.

At the exit was a pile of 8th grade diplomas.  We picked one up and that was the end of his promotion ceremony.

Marcus turned in his text books at an empty high school parking lot.  He didn't even get to go inside the school.  It took about thirty seconds to hand over his stuff and we were done.  Sophomore year over.  He was a little disappointed in the lack of fanfare.  No one was there cheering or holding up signs.  It was quiet and empty.  I hate COVID.

We celebrated the end of the school year with a slip-and-slide party and root beer floats in the backyard.  Most of the kids who came were from our neighborhood with the exception of three boys.  The kids had a blast and the adults enjoyed the sunshine while talking about the crazy world we live in.  But mostly we celebrated the end of the longest fifteen weeks of remote learning.  It was hard.  It was ugly.  I never want to do it again.  I hate COVID.

I never took a picture of the boys on the last day.  It made me too sad.  We should've been celebrating them as they got off the bus but there was no bus.  I think my kids are fine with things because they are having fun with their friends and it just feels like summer but I know when we get through this pandemic and look back on it, my heart will feel heavy with sorrow for all the things we didn't get to do.  As I dug through the piles of school work and notebooks it was disturbing to see their journal entries stop so abruptly way back in March.  Landon's teacher sent him home an envelope with a birthday card and birthday pencil in it that she meant to give him when he was student of the week.  That never happened.  It probably sounds weird but seeing so many unfinished things reminded me of reading Lindsey's journal and going through all her mission stuff.  It felt like someone had died because normal life routine doesn't usually just stop and our world certainly did stop in March.  I am truly sad for the many things my kids missed out on.  Little things like sitting at lunch with their friends, learning from their teachers, playing lacrosse, attending church activities, talking to friends on the bus, waiting for me to pick them up, running to the bus stop in the morning, getting up for early morning seminary, speeding to church so we're not late, watching movies in a movie theater, eating in a restaurant, swimming in a pool, and waking up to an alarm clock because there is somewhere to go and something to do are just a few of the normal things that are now a distant memory.  It makes me so sad. So, so sad.

Pandemic - The Beginning

A lot has changed in a short amount of time.  We are now in a full-blown pandemic and the world seems to have stopped.  Thursday afternoon, the Governor announced all the schools in three counties would close until April 26 at the earliest.  I cried when I found out.  I cried for Marcus who most definitely won't get a lacrosse season.  I cried for me because I get to homeschool my children whether I like it or not, and I cried for the scary situation that has become our reality.

Randy took a quick stock of our cupboards and went to the grocery store for a few items.  You'll die laughing when you hear what he came home with.  He bought four bags of marshmallow cereal and about ten boxes of other various cereals, along with orange juice and ice cream.  Lots of ice cream.  Oh, and yogurt because that's the one thing I asked him to pick up.  I could not stop laughing.  But don't worry because the next morning I went to the Church's storehouse and bought about twenty cases of dried goods including their last cases of flour, black beans, sugar, potato flakes, pancake mix, hot cocoa mix, and pasta noodles.  I was quite proud of myself and hope we don't have to use it anytime soon because that would be really depressing to actually have to eat it!

Today we had our second Sunday of home church.  All church meetings and activities have been canceled worldwide.  When that was announced I panicked, along with the entire State of Utah, apparently.  Our local church authorities have not given us permission to administer the sacrament in our homes until Easter Sunday.  That's a long time!  But if it means fewer people having to go to other homes to administer the sacrament then it's worth it in the long run.  We had a family-style sacrament meeting in the living room where each of the boys gave talks and we started and ended with a hymn.  Henry sat inside a big wicker basket, invisible to the rest of us, as Ethan passed him books to read from our Sunday diaper bag.  He kept quiet and the boys listened.  It was a miracle!

I've already started going crazy and the extrovert in me is freaking out!  As long as I focus on the day at hand and not the infinite number of days ahead with nothing to do but trying to entertain my rowdy children, I will be okay.  And if I hide out in my room every time I start to think less than loving thoughts about my children, I just might be okay.  It's going to be hard and it's going to get ugly sometimes.  I'm going to have to do a lot of apologizing to my kids.  But I'm also embracing this gift of TIME.  Time to do things that I normally don't have time for.  I'll have time to read a book instead of driving my kids everywhere.  Time to teach my boys how to cook, cut hair, iron shirts, fold laundry (the right way), etc.  I'm choosing to see the good in this situation and am humbled to tears that as scary as things are, I have faith in God who has prepared us for events such as these through prophets who have counseled us to prepare, save, and teach our children the gospel in the home.

For those of you who have extra time on your hands, please leave a comment!  What are you doing to cope with your new pandemic life?  What do you miss the most?  What blessings do you see?
I want to hear all about it because I'm surrounded by a bunch of stinky boys who think a conversation consisting of only grunts and nods is okay!