From a letter of intent

Mornings are hardest. From bed to lion’s den – in this case, preparing my 5-year-old son for school. He wakes slowly, angrily – and in his tosses and complaints I see my own resentments. It is the time of COVID, and my husband and I shoulder unprecedented responsibility for his education.

Transitional kindergarten was never so surreal. Life was never so surreal.

Parenting, never simple, is at a new level of strain. Children are home all the time. School, once a time of relative respite, now takes place in our living rooms.