A few days ago, I shared a few “nearby” snippets from my work as a literacy coach in an elementary school.
Here’s a nearby post from my home…not quite as sweet and endearing.
I’m taking graduate classes this year to earn my administration certification. Taking this on has been a family commitment. I’m doing an accelerated program and am completing six courses in ten months. To start each new class, we meet online for our first class on Friday nights from 5-9. The rest of our classes are then every other Saturday for eight hours. Earlier this week, my middle daughter Adi was complaining about me having class Friday and Saturday this week. “Only eight more Saturdays to go!” I told her. When she told me that was a lot, I said, “It’s better than 20, which is where we started.” That quieted her down for a while.
But, as I rushed home from work to log onto Zoom Friday after school, I could tell that Adi was going to be nearby. She always is. She is like my shadow.
I was actually shocked as my class started and Arnauld placed the girls’ dinner plates around the dining room table, also my home office. “Why would we sit at the table if mom is on a meeting?” Adi asked. Arnauld picked up the plates and brought them back to the kitchen island.
Maybe Adi was going to be considerate of me being in class tonight. Previous Friday nights have been horrendous. When my last class started in January, we got out an hour early but had to write a paper with a time limit of an hour. Adi rallied her sisters to raise a ruckus and the hour proved to be pretty challenging.
Tonight, the girls held it together as they ate dinner in the kitchen. I only heard Arnauld say, “Girls, try to keep your voices down,” once or twice. Then I heard the bells on the side door indicate that the girls had gone outside. Within seconds I heard the basketball bouncing on the driveway. Maybe the later sunsets would work to my advantage.
About ten minutes later, Adi was back. I knew trouble was coming. She lingered around the kitchen table, getting closer and closer to me. Soon, she was experimenting with how close she could get before her hair pushed into the Zoom screen.
Then she was turning on her Hooverboard and she began taking laps in and out of the dining room, all the while complaining that she was bored and her nose was stuffy.
Thankfully, my professor assigned a ton of reading for class the next day and let us log off Zoom early. When Adi heard me say goodnight and wave farewell to my classmates, she let her true colors shine. Despite my repeated requests for her to go into another room or find something quiet to do, she remained nearby-singing, dancing, moaning, complaining, and pushing my buttons. She seems to have a magnet for people trying to concentrate or think…Or perhaps it’s just me.
Nonetheless, if I’m home, Adi is usually nearby.
Where There Is Joy 
Wow, Jessica! I am in awe of you! Bravo! My mom went to college to become a teacher when I was 2 years old and like Adi, I was always near my mother. Once I carried on so much that she brought me to class where I charmed the professor. My mother wasn’t so charmed. But in the end she became a teacher, and I’ve been a teacher and learning specialist for 45 years so maybe Adi is destined to follow in your footsteps!
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Adi just loves you so much. I love the moment where Arnauld sets the plates around you and Adi, fully aware of what you are doing, has him move the plates. Her little way of showing support…maybe?
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Wow! I’m so impressed by your taking on that challenge! I have no kids at home now and can’t fathom doing it. Kudos to you for balancing it all and also finding time to write about it! (Also, I agree with Dawn–Adi’s reminding your husband to move the plates is a definite sign of support!)
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This sounds challenging in a host of ways. Just the idea of trying to complete deep academic work online from home is more than a notion. And those hours are substantial! So, yes, all the ways that it becomes a family commitment show up here. Even when they know that you are engaged, you’re still *right there* and in view, so bridging the gap between your being present yet unavailable must be hard for a shadow to manage. Kudos to you for taking it on!
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Lucky you to have Adi shadow you! You is learning from you, too!
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*She
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Oh, Adi! She loves her mom. Keep it up- sounds like you’re more than halfway through!
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I could feel the frustration of the situation, Jess. My kids always seem to want a piece of me when I am working with someone on Zoom. I’ve had to get extremely strict by using a visual cue (my reading glasses), which means they have to knock and wait until I look up before coming into my office. But the difference is the knocking. Even though it’s a French door with ten panes of glass, it’s still a door. That door is like a stop-gap before they barge in. Seeing as you’re at the dining table, that’s impossible to achieve.
Well, seven more classes left and then your Friday nights will be free again. Just in time for summer!?
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You have taken on a huge challenge. I’m sure it’s hard on Adi, but she’s doing her best. You are getting through this….one day at a time.
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I remember those days when my three girls wanted to be nearby… now i struggle finding a day/time to meet all of them for dinner! Enjoy them while you can, hang in there, it goes by so fast!
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Adi just loves you so! Homestretch! You’ve got this!
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Goodness! I was giggling, but that’s because she wasn’t ZOOM bombing me. Your SLICE reminded me of all those early pandemic days on ZOOM, right? All kinds of crazy stuff in our homes was witnessed by the world. You’ve got an awful lot on your plate and I’m sure Adi will lead the cheers when you finish. Hang in there!
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