What We Can Control

I like to be in control. I like baking, where experimentation is punished and exactitude is rewarded. I like to bag my own groceries so I can sort them according to the super-subjective system in which they will be put away. I like to order for the whole table at a restaurant (sigh, restaurants…).

Well, if week this isn’t a lesson in how little control we have over the universe, I don’t know what is. From the big “people-I-know-are-sick-and-my-livelihood-is-on-hold” to the small “my-kid-just-asked-again-to-see-his-best-friend-and-now-I’m-crying-into-my-last-bowl-of-Cheerios” issues, things are happening, and fast, and no one is asking us if we like it or not. It’s enough to make you go outside and jump up-and-down on the empty sidewalk and scream at a tree, which I heard (from a friend) is actually really, really satisfying.

For educators, our work has essentially been suspended, though some of us are still going in for a creepy, six-feet apart meeting about how no one knows how to fulfill IEPs when we’re not actually serving students. It’s like a very unwanted, cold, summer vacation where the most exotic trip you can take is to your backyard.

For parents, we have suddenly become the educators AND the caretakers, and balancing dealing with our own reactions while emotionally containing and entertaining our kiddos is a tall order.

If you’re like me, you are desperately scrambling to find some semblance of control - little scraps of agency and individualism in this time of collective passivity. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

We can't control that we have anxiety. Anxiety is a NORMAL response to what is happening right now, and to some extent, it is serving us. Our anxiety may have helped us get groceries before the lines got insane, limit our socializing, and stay away from sick friends. My boy Dr. Joel Schwartz, calls this the “zone of productive worry.”

We can control what limits we set on our anxiety. Just as some anxiety helps us be productive, too much starts to backfire. Set some boundaries for yourself around when and how much you will take in media. Turn off your phone for even small chunks of time. Schwartz recommends that when you reach out to loved ones, which you should, to “share worries, but don’t get caught in a spiral of paralyzing anxiety.”

We can't control that our kids are anxious. It’s normal for kids to be anxious. My four-year-old just told me he’s sad that school is canceled, and my two-year-old, well, she’s just screaming at random times (that’s two-year-old for either “I’m stressed” or “I have another friggin tooth coming in” - how many teeth do they need?!).

We can control how we meet their anxiety. Slow things down. Reduce your transitions. Take your phone calls to your colleagues about how the hell to do a stupid Zoom and WhatsApp Apocalype-Preparedness groups and anxious FaceTimes with your parents (okay obviously I’m just talking about myself here) into another room, whenever you can. Think about how far in the future a child at each age can conceptualize. If your kid is too young to wait for a treat until after dinner, they don’t need to know that this-and-that is closed until April 20th. Here’s a great guide for talking to kids at different ages, or read my last post.

Mostly, just look them in the eye, take a breath, and say “it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling.” I’m finding that the things I’m doing to relax my kiddos are also really helping me chill out. Reading the lovely picture book Meditate with Me with my son today was as good as going to an hour-long yoga class. Okay, almost as good.

We can’t control that we are stuck at home alone or, for better or worse, with our families. Being alone right now is very, very hard. Being with others right now is also very, very hard. With your partner, roommates, or family, make a list of “Quarantine Practices” and post them. Take two seconds to breath and read them over throughout the day.

We can control how we spend this time. Start by reframing your expectations. If you are a parent who is used to being away from your kids for hours of the day, remember that all of your time with your kids will not be at the quality that you are used to. Because that is not possible. Watch movies. Set a timer for small amounts of time you will be in your own spaces, alone. Let your kid be whiny and angry and even regress a bit. Let yourself be whiny and angry and even regress a bit.

If you’re an educator, give yourself some of the taking-care-of-yourself tools you always wish you had time for but never do. Start a daily teaching journal. Read the amazing Mindfulness for Teachers and start practicing the exercises. Explore the Greater Good Center’s educator resources. Take a free online webinar from Teaching Tolerance. Remind yourself of the incredible role you play in the lives of tons of children, who will need you even more in the world after whatever this is.

And now this. Say to yourself, as many times a day as needed, “I am not in control of a lot of things right now, and it is very hard. And that’s okay.” Practice that lovingkindness, to your neighbors (virtually), your family members, and most importantly, your damn self.