Why I’m Ready for School Routines After a Fun Summer (And Why That’s Okay)
The watermelon rind hit the kitchen rug at 9:17 this morning, oozing sticky pink juice into the cracks between the floorboards. My 7-year-old was already sticky from a cherry popsicle she’d talked me into at 8:30, and my 10-year-old was sprawled on the couch asking for the third time that hour when we were leaving for the pool. I knelt to wipe up the juice, the dog trying to lick my elbow the whole time, and the thought popped into my head uninvited: I’m kind of ready for routines again.
I shouldn’t have felt guilty, but I did. All summer I’ve seen the reels and posts reminding parents to soak up every lazy minute, that summer with small kids goes by so fast, that you’ll miss these days when they’re gone. This year I even set out to do that. I didn’t sign the kids up for three different camps or pack every day with activities. I made a short bucket list: hike the blue trail at the state park, build a fort in the backyard, learn to ride without training wheels, go strawberry picking. We did every single thing. We had popsicle for breakfast three Sundays in a row. We stayed up late stargazing after our camping trip. It was fun. It was really fun.
But somewhere around week 8 of no set bedtimes, no set wake up times, no set anything, the shine wears off the unstructured days for all of us. Last weekend we drove an hour to the lake, and halfway there the kids started fighting over who got to hold the travel snack bag. My 7-year-old ended up crying so hard she threw up a little in her car seat, and I had to pull over at a gas station to clean it up while a million mosquitos bit my ankles. I wasn’t just annoyed that day. I was tired of negotiating every single thing. Do we get screens now? When are we leaving? Can we have another cookie? When you don’t have a routine, every choice is open, and every choice becomes a fight.
I worked as a paraeducator in an elementary classroom for five years before I stayed home with my kids, so I know this isn’t just a me problem. Kids don’t talk about it much, but unstructured days drain them too. We think routines are just for parents to check off to-do lists, but predictability lowers kid anxiety. When a kid knows what comes next, they don’t have to waste energy testing boundaries or wondering what the next big thing is. I saw it every year in August: kids would come into my classroom for open house, and the first question half of them asked wasn’t “what will we do for fun?” It was “where do I put my backpack?” and “what time do we go to recess?” They wanted to know the rules, the rhythm, the routine.
I’ve seen it this month with my two. My 7-year-old, who’s usually pretty even-keeled, has had at least one meltdown a day for the last two weeks. Last week she screamed for 15 minutes because I cut her sandwich into squares instead of triangles. It wasn’t about the sandwich. It was about being tired from going to bed an hour late two nights in a row, and not knowing what to expect from the day, so every small inconvenience feels huge. My 10-year-old said it out loud two days ago: “I’m kind of bored of always doing nothing. I miss sitting with Lila at lunch.”
I’ve been testing small shifts this week to transition slowly, instead of dropping the hammer on the night before school starts. I started shifting bedtime 15 minutes earlier every other night, starting a week and a half ago. We went from 9:30 to 9:15, then 9, now we’re at 8:45, which is their school-year bedtime. No big fight, because it’s such a small change they barely notice. I added two small fixed routines to our days already: breakfast at the table by 9 AM, and all screens off by 8:30 PM for reading. That’s it, no 6 AM wake ups or practice homework or anything stressful. I also sat down with the kids last Sunday and let them pick what their after-school routine would look like for the first month. They decided they get 20 minutes of snack and screen time right when they get home before starting homework, and that they get to pick one fun weekend activity a month. Giving them input takes away that “routines are punishment for summer ending” feeling.
I also don’t plan to throw out all the fun summer stuff once school starts. We’re still keeping popsicle for breakfast on the first Friday of every month. We’re still going to the pool on Friday nights after dinner as long as the weather’s warm. Routines don’t have to be rigid or suck all the joy out of the day. They just give a frame, so the fun doesn’t feel like it’s taking over everything.
Today, after we cleaned up the watermelon and ate breakfast at the table, we walked to the library for our weekly story time. My 7-year-old checked out three Junie B. Jones books, and my 10-year-old found a new skateboarding graphic novel he’s been wanting. On the walk home, they bickered about who got to hold the library bag, just like always, but they also stopped to talk about who they think their new teachers will be this year. We’ve got four more days of official summer break, and I’m going to enjoy them. We’re going to the pool tomorrow, and we’re getting mint chocolate chip after. But I’m not going to force myself to feel guilty for being a little bit ready for the first day of school. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love this summer. It just means that after 10 weeks of open, messy, fun unstructured days, predictable feels good. We’ll have more summers. For now, we’re ready for the next thing.
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