What the Hell Just Happened?

What the hell just happened? A year ago I was master of my own destiny; a self-employed father of the year, dropping pearls of wisdom on the kids before I went off to work. I was gunning for husband of the year too,  encouraging my wife to pursue her dreams and go back to work after doing so much to raise our kids. The kids were getting older and the time was right. Besides, they’re all in school now, what could go wrong?

Well she got that job she wanted and we were all so happy for her. This was going to be great. She was getting excited and I was killing it, just by being a supporting voice. Then a few days later covid struck, the kids got sent home for remote learning, and my wife literally walked out the door to start her new job on the same day. She was “required to go into the office,” she said. As she happily poured her morning coffee, I looked at her and wondered who in the hell was going to stay home with the kids. Oh, right…

OK, I thought, you can do this. First order of business was to get the kids up and running on their devices. No problem. Then once they are plugged in, I can just work from home and my life won’t be interrupted at all. Nope, not at all. Three hours later I was still running tech support on Google classroom, looking for the next gawddamn zoom link, and losing my mind because there was some other app we were supposed to log into but I couldn’t find the link for it anywhere. That’s it, I’m done. By 12 o’clock I had no more fatherly advice to give and I left the kids to sink or swim. I think they started playing video games.

Since the covid pandemic began, I’ve gotten one solid day of work done. It was a Saturday and it was beautiful. The rest of the year has been a total shit show. For awhile I set myself up at the kitchen island, but I couldn’t get through half an email before one of the kids came looking for me. There was always something wrong with their login or the computer or their math homework. After solving one crisis, another kid would emerge with more problems to fix. Then, just as everything seemed to be quiet and all was finally figured out, another kid would appear looking for a snack, slamming the cabinets and stomping around the kitchen like a bull in a china shop. Where did all these kids come from? Like gremlins, they seemed to be multiplying.

Working in the kitchen was a disaster, so I moved my operation to the bedroom, hoping this would get the kids to leave me alone. It kinda worked, except now emails were coming from their teachers saying that the kids weren’t doing their homework. When I confronted the kids about this, I learned that the little rapscallions were marking their work complete, without actually submitting their assignments. Evidently, free-range remote learning isn’t a successful approach. Not remotely.

In the past year I have successfully failed second grade, haven’t taught my kids a single thing about self-care, and I’ve been leaning on Netflix to handle all of the tough parenting questions for me. The only real battle I’ve chosen this past year is fighting the devices, which have rendered my kids a bunch of lazy housecats, only able to get off the couch for the allure of a red laser pointer. Why the schools think teaching kids on iPads is a good idea, is beyond me. They’re even having the kids learn on them when they’re actually IN CLASS. Do they really not know that the older kids use those things to cheat on every single test? Or that during zoom calls, all kids have multiple windows up, and are watching videos and playing games instead of giving the teacher their undivided attention? With an aging baby boom population and a generation of kids being raised to believe that they are going to have a career on YouTube, is anybody else freaking out that there is going to be a whole shitload of people to take care of until the day they die?

But maybe there’s hope. The other day, in my endless quest to free the devices from my children’s steely grips, I bought some of those kitchen lockboxes — the kind where you set a timer for how long the box can’t be opened, and there’s no key or code that can bypass it. So if you set it for 24 hours and throw your phone in there, you’re not getting your phone back for 24 hours. That’s it. You just have to deal. If you haven’t purchased one yet, do yourself a favor and grab yourself one off Amazon right now. They are wonderful.

When I first introduced the lockboxes there was a massive outcry. For a week, yours truly was persona non grata, and I was getting a lot of evil stares and some strong silent treatment (another perk). Everyday I told the minions that they’ve got one hour on the phone or iPad, and then their device was going “in the box.” It was an ugly first couple of days, but then the most amazing thing happened. They all started acting nicer. And calmer. Last night we actually played Crazy 8’s for a couple of hours, everybody hung out, and then they all went to bed without watching a single thing on a screen. Well, as far as I know. Screw it, I’m marking it down as a win for the Dad.

So that’s it. My one parenting success of the year. It only took a year to get there, but we’ve arrived. With the devices all locked up, my mind is a little clearer and I’m finally getting a second to reflect on all that’s happened. A chance to peel back the onion of yesteryear and see if there are any lessons learned that will help me get more wins this year. Hmmm, let’s see. Most of what happened is pretty cloudy. At the moment I can’t remember much. I’ll have to check the photos on my phone to see if that jars anything.