A Core Memory Summer

and not in a good way

When we look back on our childhood Summers, it’s all orange-tinted, hazy, full of laughter and ice-creams by the beach. We want the same for our children even though we know it’s a lie. Most of our memories have been replaced by film montages, advertising or a general nostalgia that never really happened. Despite what the photos say, when I really, truly think about it, I know that like any time in my life, Summers had their ups and downs.

I am not ashamed to say that most of my son’s memories this Summer will have been made at Holiday Club - our school’s solution to Summer holiday childcare (although not unhelpfully for the entire Summer.)

He has spent long days in the warm (or wet) weather running around with friends from his school. He has been happy there, he has told me. Playing with toys, icing biscuits, watching Bluey and lazing on huge bean bags in the school hall.

I was surprised that not many of his Reception class have been in the Holiday Club. There are other local options, but none close enough for me to also pick my son up from nursery - and to have a long enough working day. Holiday Club appealed to me, I am surprised it didn't appeal to many other parents. I had expected to see more familiar faces there. I had counted on it, in fact.

Most parents are relying on family this Summer. I forget that we are in the minority in that we haven’t got any access to family support - which of course is superior to Holiday Club in that it’s free.

(With only full-time nursery prices to compare it to, however, I can only view the price of Holiday Club as a complete bargain - but perhaps it is all relative.)

I can’t deny that its unpopularity with parents has made me feel a little guilty. He has been there every week of the Summer holiday so far so that I can work; every week that it has been open, but not every day… I justified it as better than being at home. We don’t have a garden - they have a huge playground, a woodland area - friends! But when I pick him up and he is playing alone, or waiting keenly by the door for my arrival, I feel awful. He says he has enjoyed it, but I will never know exactly what has happened or how he has felt.

I worry that when he goes back to school he will compare his Summer with others who have been to Ibiza, Cornwall or Football Camp, even and he might wonder why he spent most of it a stone’s throw from his class room.

Then I remember the other days.

The days which I have taken him and his brother out for the day, either alone or as a family. The days that were meant to be the good ones.

I don’t exactly see myself as charitable for doing so but crikey - I can’t help but feel a little resentful. I don’t have to do fun stuff with them! And when I do there is always something that happens - something bordering on traumatic, which makes me vowel never ever, ever again!

Is it just me that finds days out hard? And yet I insist on them.

My youngest son is at the age where he doesn’t want to be in the buggy all day, but he cannot be trusted to walk. I don’t drive so we walk or get the bus/train everywhere. He will want to be carried or worse, run off into the road with the sense of reckless abandon that 3 year olds have. This has meant many a tested outing, especially in new or unfamiliar surroundings. I have shouted, bellowed even - I have cried. There have been worried onlookers as I call it once again: “Right that’s it: We’re going home!”

I have been so anxious with them, I wondered if it was me that was the problem. (It probably is, I do need to “let go”) but I am right to be cautious with a fearless three year old who doesn’t seem to understand the word STOP! - surely.

These are the Summers I remember, they were all fun and games until someone ended up in A&E.

I worry that these are the core memories that they too will have of their childhood Summers. Vivid memories of the harder days - the days that start well and end in tears.

Devastation from the two of them as I pull them out of a shop because one hit me after I said no to a particular additive-loaded treat…

when an ice-cream falls flat on the ground and I refuse to buy another because they are £4 each!

when I abandon one to run after the other, grabbing him before they head off into a maze that we were just leaving, skidding on the floor leaving us both bruised from the fall,

…days when I feel like Mother of the Year.

Holiday Club has been important to keep those overwhelming days to a minimum, but I wonder if the guilt of using holiday club is causing me to over-compensate when I am with them both. Too many treats and sugar leading to overstimulation for us all with me overstretching myself and trying to do too much.

At a birthday party with the school children last weekend I shared a smile with other mums and dads as we celebrated the half way point: three weeks to go, we cheered. We patted ourselves on the back for getting this far.

Three weeks to go…

How is your Summer going?
Have you been using childcare this Summer?

Come join me in the comments, I would love to hear your stories. Until next time,

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