This working from home gig is full of pot holes and parental stress, ain’t it?
I am home schooling until lunch time and then making a dash to work where I have am self- isolated in a radio studio by myself. I feel pretty lucky to have a job during such crazy times. Trust me after a morning of trying to teach 3 kids under 9, I am more than happy to sit in a room that literally has padded walls. I think the padding and really heavy doors are for radio sound proofing and insulation reasons , the irony is not lost on me that I head to a little room with spongey squares lining the walls. I thought I would be a really good teacher.
I even studied a year of teaching at university before I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. I never finished that second degree either after opting instead to manage a café. The career yo-yo continued until at long last I did finally become a journalist. So, I am quite stunned to discover I am a very average teacher. I realised this when I found myself giving my boys the finger when I discovered they had thrown about 3398 marbles onto the neighbour’s roof. Yep. I flipped my kids the bird. With both hands too. You see I like kids. I even like my own kids, on a normal day.
I often look at the teachers at school and think what a blissful way to spend a day gently playing with these sweet little souls and enriching their minds and souls. Well. Well. Well. Wasn’t I wrong! I am a lousy teacher! By the end of the first day I should have been fired for drinking on the job. By the end of the second day I had given up trying to do some of my work on the side and after I heard “Mum!” for the 347th time that hour I seriously considered hiding in my car. Between helping them log on to computers and cutting up fruit for brain food breaks and trying to google what the heck an irregular polygon is, I was going loopy.
Margaret Atwood has some tips on her latest workLife podcast when it comes to things you ‘Don’t Do’ from home. This ‘Don’t Do’ list vexed me. Apparently working from bed is asking for all sorts of trouble. Social media is a big no- no as well.
And Margaret (clearly a straighty- one -eighty) wants us to get out of our pyjamas. Let me tell you I put a bra on most days because the kids are video conferring in this crazy new world we are in but from the waist down I am all about comfort, girlfriend. Yes. This means tracksuit pants. And as for the biggest ‘Don’t Do’ on the list: it is no T.V. How can I track the apocalypse if I follow all these rules? I probably need a break from constantly checking for The Corona news. It is addictive. ‘No drinking’ I assume is on the list too (Margaret didn’t actually feel the need to specify this one). So I took a work conference call after failing how to Zoom with the group and threatened my kids with bloody murder if they made so much as a peep while I was on the phone.
The little monkeys decided to use masking tape to cover their own lips and eyes as well. They looked like they had been hi-jacked and needed to be rescued by Liam Neeson. When I was trying to ignore them and act professional on the phone they decided to go and get the hose and they actually wet me in a naughty bid for attention. Of course they thought this was hysterical and starting laughing as if they were on some bender.
Luckily I had my bra on or the neighbours would have thought it was a wet t-shirt competition if they had been looking. So good luck everyone! These here are sure crazy times! Stay safe. Stay dry. And try not to give your kids the finger.