As I write this, my teenage children begin their first day of distance learning. I’m already yearning for their schools to reopen, even though I’ve accepted that this won’t be happening anytime soon.

Officials shut down schools across the country in attempts to slow the spread of the coronavirus pandemic. This means our children are home all day, every day, while many of us are working and trying to supervise the virtual homeschooling that is supposed to happen.

In my defense, we’ve already spent 11 days socially isolating at home together due to an extended spring break. During those 11 days, the world has been upended in a way I haven’t seen before. I’ve been reading about, talking to and writing about people whose lives and livelihoods hang in a precarious balance.

During the same 11 days, I’ve watched the teens sleep in, binge-watch Netflix and wait to be invited to do basic chores like the dishes, walking the dog or helping with dinner.

I’ve reached the limit of my patience with that approach.

Adolescence in the time of coronavirus is going to mean growing up faster than the previous timetable allowed. I don’t mean to suggest that teenage brains are going to magically mature faster during a pandemic. Nor am I unsympathetic to what young people have lost -- their graduation ceremonies, proms, final sports seasons and performances, the last months with their friends, college visits -- there’s a long list of how this has affected their lives in sad and unfair ways.

But once they’ve had some time to deal with these disappointments, they should also prepare to realize that most family households no longer orbit around their schedules.

The weekdays B.C. (before coronavirus) had a structure: kids out the door by 7:10 a.m.; back home sometime between 3:30 and 5:30 p.m., depending on the after-school activities; dinner around 6:30; up in their rooms for the rest of the evening, mostly doing homework. On some weekdays, the after-school activities demanded more hours, and weekends often involved some kind of tournament or competition or performance.

This is how life operated for many children and teens.

All of that has come to a screeching halt. In response, our expectations for their routines and contributions to family and community life must also change.

Initially, I gave my kids a few talks about rising to the occasion and keeping a sense of perspective of what this national crisis means to millions of people. They listened, but I don’t know that they really got it. Perhaps those lectures have lacked specificity in how I expected their behaviors to change. So, the longer they continued their spring break of doing nothing much, the more aggravated I got.

We had a morning meeting before their first virtual day of high school began. I told them the start times for their school days, household responsibilities to keep track of during the day and expectations of when all devices would be turned in at night. I said they needed to share a daily project outside their schoolwork that contributes to the greater good somehow. I’m not sure how closely or cheerfully this guidance will be followed. But it was helpful to spell out what the new expectations and consequences are.

A week ago, I asked the parents on our high school’s PTO Facebook group if anyone else was dealing with a teenager who didn’t have the best attitude about this yet. The responses reassured me that adjusting to this new normal was going to take a little bit of time. One mom shared a meme that said: “OK, the schools are closed. Does that mean we drop the kids off at the teacher’s house, or what?”

Regardless of how much we appreciated teachers before, multiply that by a hundred now.

The thought of another two months of this prompted me to post a different question on Twitter: “Are any of y’all’s homeschools accepting transfer students?”

Kara Hopper is just one of the millions of Americans terrified about what’s going to happen next.

The coronavirus pandemic threatens millions of Americans’ lives and livelihoods. But her story sheds light on what we should have known all along: Our country’s lack of a safety net for most people had us headed toward disaster.

This pandemic should make us realize that complacency about other people’s welfare can be devastating to our economy.

Consider the Hopper family’s experience:

Hopper, 42, lives in Wentzville, Missouri, with her husband and four children. Both she and her husband worked, saved money and bought a home. They did all the things we tell responsible, hard-working adults to do.

A little more than two years ago, their son, Jasper, then 9, was diagnosed with leukemia.

The Hoppers were lucky to have good insurance coverage. Jasper needed intensive and frequent medical treatment, which meant Hopper had to quit her job to take him to hospitals and doctors.

In the first year, Hopper estimates their additional out-of-pocket expenses were around $20,000, on top of the lost income of $30,000 from having to quit her job. They held fundraisers and posted a plea on GoFundMe to help with escalating medical costs not covered by insurance. It’s not enough to make up the significant gap. They racked up credit card debt.

How many families can absorb a financial blow like that? When you are trying to save your child’s life, you should not also be worried about losing your home. How did we simply accept that this is the way things work in America for so long?

Hopper returned to work in August as a server in a fine-dining restaurant.

“It was enough to keep up from getting further behind but not enough to let us catch up,” she said.

Restaurants are shutting down in an attempt to control the spread of the coronavirus.

“I’m scared of falling further behind,” she said. “More than that, I’m scared of the risk to my immunocompromised child,” she said. And she also feels guilty. “I know a lot of families will be hurt way worse. I have friends with both parents working in hard-hit industries.”

At least Hopper’s husband is still working.

She says that maybe it’s easier for people to ignore and try to forget about those who are most vulnerable because it’s an easier way to deal with fear and anxiety.

”It makes it easier to just keep going on with your life if you can ignore reality and ignore the dark things. ... It’s a coping mechanism that's easier than dealing with what's actually happening,” she said.

Here’s the harsh reality that this pandemic has brought home: We need paid sick leave and health care for everyone in this country.

It seems so obvious now. When people are afraid to seek medical treatment because it could bankrupt them, it’s harder for everyone else to stay healthy when a virus like this hits. When people are forced to go to work when they are sick in order to feed their families, it’s a risk to everyone’s health. How did we allow political leaders to divide us on issues that are completely noncontroversial for any poor, working or middle-class person? Maybe it’s because we mistakenly believed other people’s bad luck or circumstances would never affect our lives.

The severity of this crisis has laid that mistaken belief to rest. Everyone’s economic and physical well-being is interconnected in a society.

“I think we need to get with the civilized world and take care of one another,” Hopper said.

We should have realized that many years ago.

We shouldn’t forget it now.

News spreads faster among kids than any virus.

So, odds are high that any child from elementary school on up has already heard about the latest coronavirus and its associated disease, COVID-19.

Two Catholic schools in Missouri’s St. Louis County have canceled classes after a father and daughter broke an in-home quarantine, issued by the local health department, to attend a dance at the Ritz-Carlton. The student’s older sister tested positive for COVID-19 after returning from Italy, and the whole family was instructed to remain at home for at least 14 days. (The family hired a lawyer, who said they had never been told to self-quarantine. County Executive Sam Page, and the health department, insist that they had.) In the wake of the news, other area schools sent emails asking students who may have been in contact with the younger daughter to stay at home.

Anger in the community is rampant, and rumors and anxiety will only intensify as the outbreak continues to spread.

In hard-hit areas of the country, schools have already been closing, and some colleges have canceled in-person classes for the rest of the semester.

So, how should parents discuss this rapidly changing public health crisis with their children without freaking them out?

First and foremost, don’t talk to them when you’re feeling panicked yourself. I learned this the hard way when my daughter told me I had been talking about the coronavirus outbreak a lot, and that it was stressing her out.

One way to process an underlying sense of anxiety is to identify the legitimate worries exacerbating it. For parents of children who have chronic health conditions or who are immunocompromised, there is the primary fear of wanting to keep them healthy and safe -- even though the infection rate for children has been low -- and having to rely on others to follow rules designed to protect the most vulnerable. Others live with or near elderly relatives, who are very susceptible to the virus.

Even for those with healthy families, the specter of extended school closures provokes anxiety. A significant number of working parents don’t have paid sick leave -- or any leave at all. Some depend on school lunches to help feed their children. And plenty of people cannot work from home, and have no child care options during the day.

All of these concerns can feel like underlying threats to basic survival -- even if the individual health risks remain low.

Then there are practical concerns: What would a quarantine with children at home look like? How long would it last? Would we still be able to get the food, medicine and supplies we need?

And it’s not just school schedules potentially being disrupted. Parents must ask themselves: What should we do about travel plans already paid for? What about special events with large groups of people, like weddings? How might this impact AP tests, graduations, extracurriculars?

Many parents are planners, and panic is fueled by uncertainty. Considering the extent of the unknowables in this scenario, it’s understandable to feel some anxiety -- especially for those already prone to worry. That’s partly why there’s been such a run on toilet paper and hand sanitizer. We’ve hyper-focused on a few things we can do: buying disinfectant and washing our hands so much that no moisturizer can keep up.

After acknowledging the legitimacy of these concerns, however, the next step is to remind ourselves to keep a sense of perspective -- and to instill the same in our kids. Schedule disruptions and event cancelations are minor, compared to serious illness or death. I’ve told my kids that sacrificing some personal desires can possibly help save other people’s lives. We can work for the common good, while acknowledging the feelings of disappointment that may arise.

Children pick up on our emotional cues, so if we respond to the prospect of a school closure as simply an inconvenience, and not a crisis, it helps calm kids’ fears.

The nonprofit Child Mind Institute suggests talking to children in an age-appropriate way about coronavirus, reassuring them about the steps being taken to keep them safe, and sticking to routines when possible.

Of course, it’s important to remind children about washing their hands frequently and keeping a distance from anyone who is coughing or seems sick. For my part, I’m having my kids take extra vitamin C to help boost immunity, buying more disinfecting wipes to clean smartphones at night, and taking more walks outside to help reduce stress.

It should also go without saying that if the health department advises you to self-quarantine, for God’s sake, follow their instructions.