May the Year 2020 Mark the Hardest Year to be a Parent (Kim Mosier)

We can and must do a better job of providing parents with the supports they need to raise our future Oregonians

Everything smells right now, especially in my house. I can tell it’s late summer starting to be fall, because my house smells like over-ripe fruit, swim towels sitting in a pile too long, and a sweaty 14-year-old boy who just mowed the lawn but didn’t want to. And everything is over-laid by the smell of wildfire smoke to some degree. These are the smells that tell me the shine has worn off summer.

The idea of fall is starting to be pretty intriguing. Parents and caregivers get to look forward to the built-in support of school, in what may look a bit more like a “normal” school year. I’m left thinking about Oregon’s most vulnerable families, and how they’ve faired over the past 16 months. I’ve been thinking about those families a lot lately.

Childcare has been a policy and practical question for the entirety of the pandemic.

Like many of you, I took on a pandemic project in 2020. Pre-pandemic, I had been loosely working on bringing a Relief Nursery to my rural Eastern Oregon county. During the 2020/21 school year, between my temp jobs providing Chromebook tech support and working as a long division tutor, I filled my time by plugging away at the bureaucracy required to build a Relief Nursery from scratch. If you live east of the Cascades, you probably don’t know much about Oregon’s Relief Nursery Model. There are 36 certified Relief Nurseries statewide, but until very recently only two east of Bend. Now there are three.

The Relief Nursery Model is unique to Oregon. It’s designed to support our communities’ most vulnerable families—to provide needed respite, a break for struggling parents, grandparents and caregivers who may not have any other options. But the model goes beyond child care to bring other needed services. Staff are trained to be able to look for what an individual child or family might need to be their best selves. There’s no telling what that need may be. It may be help with speech or physical development for their toddler. It may be help connecting with housing options or basic needs. It may be parenting guidance through a difficult childhood stage. This model, though, can zero-in on the specific need in question. Then staff can identify support that’s tailored to the family, recognizing that we all come from unique environments and have different needs.

Since 1998, researchers have been studying and evaluating Oregon’s Relief Nursery Model. Research has consistently shown it leads to a reduction in the likelihood of child abuse, neglect, and interaction with the foster care system. There are a number of other benefits to families, too. Check out this link to see a summary of one such study: NPC Research Relief Nursery Outcomes. In short, if we can give struggling families individualized basic supports and guidance, they are better able to care for children safely in their own homes. That’s good news for families, kids, and communities.

And, after a year of a lot of bad news, we need to identify the good news and spread it. I feel fortunate because even in “the bad times,” I had access to the sort of support and community that others depend on a Relief Nursery to provide. I was able to press pause on my career in the COVID-times, taking several months off to help our kids through what we affectionately called “COVID school.” Not every family had that luxury nor a nearby Relief Nursery to help get through the toughest parts of the year. Our two kids plus another two close family friends set up shop in various corners of our house to persevere through hours of Zoom meetings masquerading as education. (I’m not being critical of schools here. No one would argue that Zoom is the best way to teach. Even under the best conditions, kids learning without social interaction and face-to-face feedback are going to miss some important lessons.)

This year represents the hardest parenting year on record. For me, certainly, but moreover for those parents who have fewer natural supports. I’ve come to realize that what has made this such a hard parenting year is that the bottom fell out of community support I never knew I relied on. Not just school, but all the activities that keep kids occupied, happy and mentally healthy. We’ve had to fill every moment of every day on our own parenting steam. That’s a lot of freaking togetherness and a lot of freaking work. It’s exhausting.

As parents, we need help. Especially in the early years. We need library story hours; we need parent-tot swim lessons. We rely on parks to gather together and commiserate about biters or bed wetting or childcare gaps; we rely on grannies and aunties and neighbors and friends who can step in, or just tell us we’re not crazy for wanting to lock the bathroom door to keep the dear little ones out so we can pee in peace. In the COVID-times parents lost all that. 

As we ready ourselves for another new school year, different from last year, which was different from the last, I’m saying a prayer of thanks to the whole randomness of individuals and community supports that have helped bring me and my kids to the place where we are today. Teachers, librarians, coaches, grandparents, friends, that guy in the grocery store who distracted the two-year-old with silly smiles while I rushed through the check-out line. I’m also asking for empathy and compassion for our most vulnerable, struggling families. May they find exactly the support they need – through family members, through friends, through community, and perhaps through a Relief Nursery.

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Who is Kim?

Attorney advising non-profit and government entities, some courtroom practice, teacher of Criminal Justice for 9 years. Passionate about local civic involvement. Fifth-generation Eastern Oregonian. I love this place and its people.

Photo credit: "New child-care spaces are on their way" by BC Gov Photos is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0