Oh G-d, this is not what I signed up for!

I’m still reeling.

I don’t remember another message that hit me as hard as that announcement on Friday.

No. School. For at least a month. 
In the busiest season of the year. 

This can’t be real. 
This is NOT what I signed up for. 

I’m supposed to be able to send the kids out.
I’m supposed to be able to rely on teachers to prepare my kids for Yom Tov.
I’m supposed to have lunch taken care of in school. 
I’m supposed to have time alone to work at home. 
I’m supposed to have time to prepare for Pesach.
I’m supposed to be able to go out and meet friends at night.

I’m not supposed to prepare lesson plans for them. 
I’m not supposed to be a preschool teacher, nor an elementary school one. 
I’m not supposed to be responsible for all the kids, all at once, all on my own, all day.

This was not supposed to happen. 

I want to cry. 
I want to throw up my hands, crawl into bed, and make it all go away. 
No, this is not at all what I signed up for. 

Today should have been a regular Sunday. 
A regular, schedule-free, go-with-the-flow, pajama kinda day.
A day to relax, let the kids run a little wild, color or watch videos for hours before the intense schedule of the rest of the week was back.
A day to order or go out for pizza because it’s impossible to cook with all the kids home all day. 

But today was a different kind of day. 
Today we needed to adjust to a new reality. 
The schools are closed this week. 
Not because they have nothing to teach. 
Not so we can go on vacation, trips, or to camp. 
The schools are closed because it is no longer safe for groups of people to come together. 

So we all must stay home. 
And we must figure out everything on our own from now on. 

No, this is not at all what I signed up for. 

I take a deep breath. 

The truth is, there are many things in life that we do sign up for. 
And then there are things that we are signed up for by somebody else. 

I never signed up to homeschool my kids. 
I know many people do it. 
I know that very few in my situation, with six young children including a toddler and infant, are in that category. 

I know it is not realistic for me. By any stretch. 
My kids may be home from school, but that does not make my home into a homeschool. 

No, we are not going to become a school. 
We are still just a home. 

Breathe. 

We are still just a home. 
Only with a very new schedule and few more responsibilities added to our already overloaded plates.

Somehow, at least in a minimal way, at least by singing some songs and playing some videos, we’ll also have to teach our kids about Pesach.

But why?

G-d in Heaven, who gave me these beautiful children to nurture and care for, what do you want from me now?

I know you have a plan for us. 
Sometimes your plans are fairly straightforward, even expected, but this one really came out of left field. 
I don’t know how I’ll get through it. 

I don’t know how much my children will learn about Pesach this year. 
I don’t know how I’ll clean for Pesach this year. 
Really, I don’t know how I’ll stay sane and alive through this month (or however long it will be).

But I know that it will happen, somehow, because you have always given us strength to do what we must. 
This time, it seems, we’ll need to find strength we really didn’t know we have. 
We’ll need to find solutions and workarounds we’d never otherwise look at, because the situation is so unique. 

Already the world is reaching out, and pulling things together that we’d never have thought possible. 
G-d is clearly pushing them to do better, to use the tools and technology he’d placed in this world surely just for this purpose.
Resources created all over the Jewish world have been collected and shared.
Learning technology created for specific schools or groups has been offered universally. 
Every organization and activist in the community is exploring ways to help us. 

We may not be able to get together in person, but we are far from alone. 

G-d, your ways are so very strange, but now too, we will trust you. 

No, we won’t be able to pull it together on our own. 
But we know you have our back. 

We will breathe deeply, take it one hour at a time, and allow you to put things into place just as you want them. 

And one day, maybe, we will look back and thank you for this challenge that nobody asked for but that changed the world forever – for the better.

As for now, I will take it one day at a time.