Back to school: single parent edition.

 Back to school. 

For my littles, the phrase used to signal the joys of school supply shopping, new shoes and being surrounded by your friends. The comfortable routine of school. And for this single mom, the end of ridiculously expensive summer child care. And this year is THE year. The last of my three children matriculated preschool, and is headed off to “be a big kid FINALLY”, as she so sweetly put it. 

This year the phrase makes my skin crawl. 

There were options, of course. I was given the choice to apply for the online learning program and keep them home, or send them in person. 

However, for this single mom, online learning was not an option at all. 

I am the head of our household. 

I have a job, which is essential to our survival, and honestly, I barely scrape by supporting three children on my state employee income. I supplement that income by playing music. With Covid, I lost three months worth of gigs, but that’s an entirely different kettle of fish. 

I don’t have retired parents, or friends who can help out with childcare. We are stuck. 

The updates started to roll in last month, with families signing up for “learning pods” and at home learning ideas. The news that some of my children’s best friends would not be attending in person school this year. 

My children were devastated. And they don’t understand why THEY can’t learn from home. 

So single parents, I see you. I see your choice between employment and safety for your family. I see the hardship of buying school supplies on single parent incomes, especially with the financial burden of this Covid world. I see the anxiety you’re feeling, making the choice to send your children into the unknown of this year. I share the pain of not being able to walk my kindergartener into her classroom and give her one last hug in the hallway. I share your guilt of not being able to actually have a choice in this school year situation. 

I have no advice. 

Only love to you, your children, and our teachers this year. 

Go Wildcats. 

Awkwardly yours, 

Meg