Pandemic Motherhood Diary, Entry 43: A New Routine

“I don’t want to go,” my three-year-old told me while we were getting ready for the day at 6:30 a.m. He had been adjusting to daycare and experiencing separation anxiety while I was starting my first week at a new job. So, going through our morning routine only meant one thing to him: he was about to spend the day away from me. 

After working remotely since the start of the pandemic, I recently decided to accept a job outside of my home. This is my first time working away from my kids and my first full-time role in five years. There are a lot of cons to pandemic life. However, the minor pro for me is it forced me to pivot and create a life that prioritized flexibility. I didn’t realize how much I would miss that until I started working.

“Are you going to come to my school program in the morning, Mommy?” My five-year-old asked me with excitement, waiting for the usual yes. But this time was different. I had to explain to him that Mommy had to go to work and that I couldn’t attend. Although he was disappointed, I promised him I would be all ears later that day to hear how it went, and he could even sing the song to Daddy and me. After we pinky-promised, I walked away feeling the weight of what working away from home meant… what losing that little bit of freedom meant. 

To say our first week apart was challenging is an understatement. Everyone had a week of firsts. It was my husband’s first time picking up both of the kids regularly. It was my oldest’s first time in after-school care. It was my first week on the job and my youngest’s first time in daycare. I had to arrange our schedules accordingly, especially since I drop off both in the morning. Timeliness and empowerment have been the name of the game. No one wants to be late, and no one wants to head to their location in a bad mood. 

When my youngest first went to daycare, he gave me a squeezy hug and promised me he would be brave. However, bravery looked different once he noticed me walking towards the exit. The entire week, I spent a maximum of 10 minutes coddling and reassuring him that he would have fun, that I loved him, and that Daddy would be there on time to pick him up. “5 o’ clock,” he says repeatedly before I leave him. He succumbed to the process, doing arts and crafts and dancing to Danny Go. And then there was me across town, scrolling through the daycare app to ensure he was okay. Separation anxiety has been mutually challenging, especially since I never desired to leave my children with anyone.

I recognize the slight privilege of being able to choose to be present for the past few years. Although I wasn’t exempt from needing to work, I found a role that wasn’t micromanaged, was part-time and worth my while. I always thought I would work full-time while my babies were in daycare. When the spread of COVID-19 happened, I couldn’t bear the thought of putting them somewhere else with the threat of the spread, so I found a remote role. It has enabled me to attend Mother’s Day muffins at my child’s school, lunch hours with him, and different doctors’ appointments. It enabled me to enrich and coddle them until they could walk and talk.

The change has been major for us. Everyone has had to adjust in ways we weren’t truly prepared for. Dropping my kids off has been the hardest part of the transition. I have had to learn to pause worrying about them all day long. Are they eating enough? Did they take a nap? Are they sad? Is the staff being respectful towards them? Are they going to get sick? What are they being exposed to? The worrying never ends. I just pause it long enough to do what is expected of me while I’m clocked in. And once I clock out, I waste no time getting back to them safely. Time with them is a luxury I do not take for granted, especially now that I have less.

Melissa Menny is an author with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism. She is a poet and a writer in all aspects. When she is not working, she enjoys painting, music, and spending time with her husband and two sons.

This is the most recent in a series of essays about raising young children in the COVID era. Read entry 42 here.