“I feel like crying,” I confided to my partner on Friday morning. After wrapping up a work call, my mind was racing with a daunting list of tasks still left unfinished. My partner was trying to juggle a barrage of work questions while simultaneously managing “homeschool” time with our son, who was adamantly refusing to cooperate. Instead, he had constructed an impenetrable couch fort, opting to retreat into silence or binge-watch his iPad rather than engage in any activities. (Today’s choice? Silence in a dark corner.)
“Are we damaging him for life?” my partner asked, worry evident in her voice. We both carried the weight of guilt for the unfinished work and the realization that our son needed our calm presence more than ever. Yet, our current routine made that nearly impossible as we scrambled between work obligations and parenting duties. Later, when I took over the homeschooling, I was met with tears when my son told me I had stopped smiling at him. Ouch.
This is undeniably tough.
What strikes me is the shared nature of this struggle among fellow parents. The messages and posts circulating in my network resonate deeply. We feel like we are failing on both fronts. Our children need us more than ever, yet they are acting out, abandoning their usual routines, and demanding our attention in ways we hadn’t anticipated. Screen time has escalated far beyond what we ever thought we would allow. Forget about successful homeschooling — many of us are just trying to get our kids to engage in basic activities that were once part of a normal Saturday routine before the pandemic.
This dilemma reflects a privileged perspective — that of two employed adults, sharing responsibilities without the fear of job loss. In simpler terms, I’m not preoccupied with how to feed my family; I’m just anxious about getting my son to eat something other than donuts for two days straight.
But this privilege makes the situation even more glaring. This is the best-case scenario?
Global pandemics, like the one we’re experiencing, reveal and intensify existing societal dynamics — both positive and negative. They serve as a distorted mirror, reflecting our realities. One of these dynamics is the immense pressure placed on individual parents and families to navigate challenges created by larger systemic issues.
There’s an unspoken expectation that parents should find innovative ways to cope on their own. My email inbox, social media feeds, and kitchen counters overflow with creative ideas for engaging and educating kids. Workbooks, games, virtual yoga, and an array of online activities abound.
Honestly, I’m too exhausted to sift through these suggestions, let alone implement them. The few attempts I made were met with outright rejection from my son.
Alongside these “helpful tips” are reminders to be kind to ourselves. “Embrace imperfection!” “Lower your standards!” To clarify, our family’s standards right now simply involve making it through the day without our son solely glued to a screen, while also not completely undermining our work efforts.
What’s glaringly absent from these parent-focused discussions is the recognition that our situation is fundamentally absurd. Individual solutions are not viable.
I had hoped that by now, four weeks into social distancing, we would have found our rhythm, but for my family and others I’ve spoken to, things have only become more challenging. The accumulated anxiety, stress, and sadness have intensified. My to-do list keeps growing, my guilt over not engaging my son sufficiently deepens, and his visible sadness as he grapples with the upheaval in his life is increasingly apparent. Our collective fatigue is mounting.
Tweaks to our schedules and virtual activities won’t solve this. We need to acknowledge that parents and caregivers currently have less to give at work. The prevailing assumption seems to be that parents have adjusted to a routine and are managing fine.
Let’s be clear: parents are not okay.
Everyone is mourning and struggling right now. When I’m not feeling overwhelmed, I’m thankful for my family’s health and safety and the fact that I’m not facing this in isolation. However, this pandemic is illuminating the flaws in our systems designed to support families.
The notion of “making it work” is only applicable to those with the most privilege. It highlights the lack of paid sick leave and parental leave, and the reality that traditional school hours end at 3 p.m., while the workday often extends much longer, with aftercare options not universally available. This doesn’t even touch on the need for universal healthcare, regardless of employment status. Parents expend tremendous energy trying to navigate systems that are fundamentally flawed.
It has always been absurd to treat caregiving and family responsibilities as “personal choices” handled outside of working hours. From pediatric appointments to the onslaught of sick days during cold season, to school closures and parent-teacher meetings, I’ve often found myself unable to work a full week. Yet we manage to hide these struggles more effectively, and again, “making it work” is only true for those with privilege.
Our current situation starkly showcases the farce of our societal approach to separating work and family lives. We’re expected to work from home full-time while also caring for our children full-time, without any external help. This simply isn’t feasible, and the illusion that it is only adds to our collective suffering.
Our children are missing out — on stability, education, and social interaction, which are critical for their development.
Employers are also losing out. Whether the expectation is for full-time productivity or flexible work arrangements, the quality of work is declining. The longer this juggling act continues, the more diminished returns we will see.
Honestly, I’m uncertain what the solution is. But unless we reassess where the responsibility lies in caring for our most vulnerable and reprioritize what truly matters in work, we will emerge from this pandemic with parents and young people unprepared to contribute to a better future.
In the meantime, let’s remember: parents are not okay.
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Summary
Parents are facing unprecedented challenges during the pandemic, struggling to balance work and caregiving responsibilities while feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt and anxiety. This situation exposes the flaws in societal systems designed to support families, highlighting the need for a reevaluation of how we approach work-life balance and caregiving.