I reached my breaking point as a self-employed, single mom when my family recently got COVID-19. Parenting has only gotten harder after 2 years.

• Laura Wheatman Hill is a freelance writer with two children who got divorced during the pandemic.
• She found her careful work-life schedule ruined when she and her son contracted COVID in January.

Since I left full-time public-school teaching to become a parent and therefore a primary caregiver, I have been a freelancer. I teach, tutor, and write.

During the pandemic, I got divorced. My finances and support systems changed dramatically. Many of our friends were shielding, and even now we aren't having indoor playdates, let alone drop-offs that would give me hours of free time to work.

From a financial point of view, less or no childcare equals less time to work and earn money.

This fall, my daughter went back to school, and my son was in full-time day care. I finally had time to walk my dog in the mornings, write during the day, and tutor after school on days my kids were at their dad's.

I kept records of my finances on Mint and on spreadsheets and used a timer app, Toggl, to keep track of my projects and how much I should charge by the hour or word.

I felt as if I had created a good work-life balance.

Then in January, we got all tested positive for COVID-19, most likely the Omicron variant that made up the vast majority of cases in the US at the time. We only had mild symptoms and never lost taste or smell.

My son tested positive on a Sunday. He had a mild case but was home for a week, coughing directly into my face.

Because we had been in close contact with my son who was probably contagious 2-3 days before showing symptoms all three of us quarantined together at home.

I told my daughter to give her brother space and not to hug or touch him but felt it was pointless to wear masks, as we had all been living closely. My son is too young to be isolated in a separate room and bathroom, according to guidelines from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

When I tested positive five days later, on Friday, it wasn't a surprise.

According to the new CDC protocols, my son could go back to day care the Monday after I got sick. Fully vaccinated siblings didn't have to quarantine if they didn't have symptoms. I thought I'd be able to do my five-day isolation with the kids in school.

This didn't happen.

My daughter went into school on Monday and told everyone in her second-grade class, including the teacher, that I was dying of COVID-19 — I actually had very mild symptoms — and then proclaimed she had a sore throat.

She tested negative, but they sent her home Tuesday and told her to isolate for five days.

My Toggl timer told me I was working only seven hours a week while we were in quarantine, as opposed to at least twice that on usual weeks.

With kids home, getting one article written, let alone the five I'd been assigned, was hard. I could lock myself in a bedroom, but the kids found me.

I had a very mild case, but I still had crushing fatigue for several days and some brain fog.

I worked slower because of this, so, in short, I worked less, and it took longer. I couldn't tutor because I was positive, and I didn't have time to pitch to editors as much as usual. Next month I'll probably be making at least a thousand dollars less in freelance income.

After working from home and juggling Omicron with two children, I was burned out.

Jealous of friends with salaried jobs and sick leave, I decided to apply for several jobs as a staff writer or editor.

I have gotten one interview and no offers so far.

Even if I did get an offer: I have only 31 hours a week of childcare, not 40, so my support systems don't cover full-time work with no flexibility.

A job would have to pay me enough to justify putting my daughter in aftercare, but that does nothing to help my son, whose day care doesn't offer extended hours due to pandemic restrictions.

I don't have family nearby to provide free care and don't feel comfortable asking my friends who are just as stretched as I am.

Still, there is a lot about my situation I feel grateful for.

I am thankful we all had mild COVID-19 symptoms, all of which are gone now. And, although it's been a financial strain, I didn't go broke. Because I'm divorced and not completely solo, I have a couple of nights off a week to catch up on work and sleep and don't pay all the kids' bills alone.

And yet, I struggled. I thought I was on top of everything, but Omicron highlighted the precariousness of my situation. I don't have a long-term solution other than to keep freelancing.

Burnout is probable for all parents of the pandemic. This is predominantly due to the culture around work and parenting — an expectation to manage more hands-on childcare while being more productive at work.

There's no definitive solution except widespread systemic change about the way we work and parent. This needs to come from workplaces, government, and, most importantly, the culture around what's considered appropriate for "workloads."

I can't make widespread systemic change happen, though, and no one is coming to rescue me, so, as we round out two years of pandemic parenting, I pull myself out the best I can and try not to drown.