The tag on my sons Toronto Raptors jersey is almost tickling his chin as we rollerblade.

Its redder, Dada, so I can look like a real ninja, he says, like that explains why his top is inside out and backwards.

Im in grey nylon gym shorts with paint stains from who knows how many walls ago. Ive been sporting the same T-shirt for days. Its 2:15 p.m. on a Wednesday. In 45-minutes, Ill be on a Zoom video call with some senior leaders at work.

Ill change my shirt.

Soon enough, school will start and our real lives will pick back up. Homework, rushed mornings and evenings, extra-curricular activities, and other routine calendar moments erased by COVID-19 will find their way back onto the kitchen whiteboard.

I find myself conflicted. While I know going back to school is much needed for my kids, Ill miss the slower pace of having them home all the time. Ill miss our family dealing with the pandemic together, sharing every meal nestled into our safe little corner of the world. Ill miss our home being their playground.

We did more living in our home the past five months than weve done in the eight years weve actually owned the house.