20/07/2025
Sharing a useful resource...
As the end of the school year approaches, I feel a strange mix of relief and dread and I am pretty sure I am probably not the only one feeling this way..
On the one hand, we’re ready for the break. My children have worked hard. They deserve rest. And honestly? So do I!
But on the other hand, the structure that school brings is about predictability. It’s about the rhythm of the day, the familiar faces, the scaffolding that supports both their learning and their regulation. My children love school. They thrive on the connection, the sense of purpose, the consistent routine. They have a support system there, and so do I because knowing they’re in a space that meets their needs gives me the capacity to meet mine.
When that falls away for six weeks, it’s a shift in everything.
The first half of the summer break feels manageable. We all need to decompress. The children want freedom. I want the chance to slow the mornings down a bit. We give each other space. There are moments of genuine ease and that part can feel good.
But it doesn’t usually last for the whole summer break..
As the weeks go on, the shift happens. The novelty fades. The lack of structure starts to wear on all of us. My children’s needs start to pull in different directions. What works for one definitely doesn’t work for another and rarely works for all three at the same time. I end up being the one who holds it all together, constantly switching roles, juggling demands and expectations, second-guessing decisions and getting it wrong sometimes.
And all of this is happening while I’m still working my day job, because unlike school, my job doesn’t stop for the summer holidays. My capacity gets stretched thinner by the day. I don’t get a six-week pause. I’m still running on deadlines, still trying to show up for my work, while also trying to show up fully for my kids and there are days when I’m feeling like I’m doing neither particularly well.
It’s a constant push and pull. I love having them home. I struggle having them home. I want to make it special. I need to survive it. I want to be fully present. I need space to function. It’s a lot.
These mixed emotions are a reflection of a real and complex reality that often gets glossed over in the typical summer holiday narratives. For neurodivergent families like mine, this 6 week period isn’t all or nothing. It’s both/and. Joy and exhaustion. Connection and overwhelm. Freedom and frustration.
And there’s room for all of it. We’re allowed to hold those feelings side by side.
What helps in a neurodivergent household? Here are a few things I remind myself of every year (and still need to hear again and again)
Keep a flexible structure
You don’t need a strict schedule, but having a basic rhythm to the day (even if it’s just breakfast, activity, quiet time) can help everyone know what to expect. Visuals or checklists work well for some children and for adults too.
Plan for the middle slump
The novelty of summer wears off. Instead of waiting for everything to fall apart, expect it. Have a reset plan ready, whether it’s bringing back some routine, adding a new activity, or acknowledging that the second half is harder and giving yourself permission to lower the bar. Perfectionism does not have a place here.
Divide the day into manageable chunks
Rather than thinking in terms of whole days, break it down into morning, afternoon, and evening. It can make the time feel more doable, especially on tough days.
Make space for different needs
You won’t meet everyone’s needs all the time and that’s okay. Aim for balance over time, not perfection every moment. Tag team with another adult if possible, or build in 1:1 time in small, doable ways.
Give yourself work time boundaries
If you’re working through the summer, make your work time visible. Whether it’s with a visual cue, a timer or a clear “I’m working until this time” statement, set the boundary and hold it gently but firmly. Your children may not love it, but it builds predictability.
Find your minimum viable day
Some days will be about survival and that’s enough. Know what your this is enough baseline is (everyone safe, everyone fed) and release yourself from guilt when that’s all you can manage.
Let go of comparison
Your family’s version of summer doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. What works for your household is valid even if it looks low-key, repetitive or messy. You do what works for you and your family.
Plan your recharge moments
You can’t pour from an empty cup. Whether it’s five minutes alone, a quiet coffee or asking for help with childcare for even an hour, your regulation matters too. Do not think about it as you vs them, but rather as you as well.
Just know, that if you’re heading into this summer with a knot of mixed feelings, you’re not alone. There’s nothing wrong with finding summer holidays both precious and painfully hard. You’re allowed to feel all of it and still be a good parent.
