What We’re Actually Planning for the Summer Holidays

I’ve been thinking about the summer holidays, not in a “fully planned, colour-coded schedule with activities for every single day” kind of way, but more in a “we should probably have some kind of loose plan so we don’t all lose our minds by week two” sort of way.

Because six weeks is a long time, and with four kids it can either feel really lovely and relaxed or descend into complete chaos surprisingly quickly, usually somewhere around day three.

So this year, I’m keeping it simple.

No pressure, no overplanning, no trying to make every single day feel magical or memorable in a way that leaves me completely burnt out by the end of it.

Just easy things that we can actually do, the kind that don’t cost much, don’t require loads of prep, and don’t leave me feeling like I need a week to recover afterwards.

We’ll go to the park, probably more times than I can count, to the same park, on the same swings, having the same “five more minutes” conversations that are never actually five minutes.

We’ll bake, or at least attempt to, which will almost definitely involve flour everywhere, someone arguing over who gets to mix, and me questioning halfway through why I thought it was a good idea in the first place.

We’ll ride bikes and scooters, going up and down the same paths, stopping for snacks, drinks, and random breaks that somehow turn into full sit-downs.

We’ll go for walks through the woods, not fast and definitely not efficiently, but the kind where the kids pick up sticks, find “interesting” things, and take twice as long as it should, which is kind of the whole point.

We’ll have slower days at home, staying in pyjamas longer than we probably should, watching films, eating snacks, and just letting everyone do their own thing while still being together.

Nothing big, nothing over the top, nothing that requires me to be constantly “on.”

Because I think there’s this quiet pressure around summer holidays to make everything amazing, to fill every day with activities, trips, and experiences that feel worth it.

But honestly, some of the best bits are the small ones, the unplanned ones, the days where nothing particularly exciting happens but everyone’s just there, existing together without rushing.

So that’s the plan, or as close to a plan as we’re going to get.

Simple, easy, and realistic.

And if we make it through with everyone fed, mostly happy, and the house still standing, then I’ll take that as a win.