A cup of coffee in one hand and my laptop in another, I set the computer on a small white table in the living room. I place it atop other books, colored pencils, and half-drawn pieces of artwork. Behind me at the train table, I hear, “No, no, no, you can’t do that,” Isaac yells in Charlotte’s face and simultaneously takes a block out of her hand.
I raise my voice above their fighting, “It’s time for Ms. Lucy. Come over here and wait for her.”
It’s been our weekday tradition since staying at home. At 10 am, Charlotte’s preschool teacher comes on Facebook live to share stories, nursery rhymes, bible verses, and most importantly, her presence. It’s our new normal rather than three day a week preschool.
Some mornings the kids will keep playing while we listen to Ms. Lucy’s voice and other mornings Charlotte sits in front of the computer holding up her latest art work and answering Ms. Lucy’s questions.
I’m learning right along with Charlotte and Isaac – new songs, books, nursery rhymes, and Bible verses. I’m hearing the reminders to play and read, not just for my kids, but for me. I’m listening when Ms. Lucy talks about honoring our feelings, and remembering to be kind. I’m giving thanks for technology that connects us from living room to living room. I’m delighting in the silliness.
It’s not just my kids that need these playful reminders and for 15 minutes every morning I’m taking notes. Perhaps most importantly, we’re all hearing the final blessing that Ms. Lucy offers. It’s the same as if they were all gathered in the classroom for the end of the day. When everyone is ready to leave, the teachers offer one final reminder: Remember, we love you.
From the computer screen, I hear Ms. Lucy’s voice: “Now remember, we love you.” Charlotte makes a heart out of her hands and smiles back. I smile, too, letting the words wash over me.
So much is different right now and so much uncertainty exists, but underneath it all, the most important fact remains: we are all loved.