School holiday time may be here for my kids – but I’ll need a break by the end of it

Juggling work and childcare leads to a life ruled by spreadsheets, says Will Gore

School holidays in England and Wales are just around the corner (PA Archive)

According to Madonna, taking a holiday can turn the world around and bring back happy days. But when the kids take their summer holiday, chances are you’ll spend days spreadsheeting every element of their daily schedule just to stop the world falling apart.

This week, state schools in England and Wales split up for the long summer vacation. Children will be gleeful; parents will brace themselves for the most trying period of the year.

For parents not juggling childcare with other work, it’s tough enough. Six weeks of desperately thinking up new activities to keep small kids occupied – or developing different responses to the grunts of a mardy teen. For those who have to keep both their children and their employer happy, a tight timetable is the key.

This summer, we are running a military operation. Calendars have been printed and filled with mysterious arrows, initials and locations – all essentially code for “plan by the hour or we’re screwed”.

In week one, my wife will initially take the kids to stay with her mother; and I’ll join them after a couple of days at work. Then we’re off to Norfolk for a few days of annual leave, before returning home via my parents. In the second week, my son is booked in for a five-day cricket camp at the local club, so I’ll be praying for good weather or my WFH plans will be shot through.

After that, we’ll have a three-way split: my wife at home for work, my daughter off to a distant friend’s and me and my son to stay with my folks, from where I can easily reach my office. Week four is annual leave for everyone and a cottage stay in the Peak District; in week five I’m taking the children to stay with my brother in Wales (I can use his wifi to work; the kids can frighten his chickens and run around the woods). That leaves us with one week before the start of the new term: my mother-in-law is primed to cover the final stretch.

On the face of it, all this sounds like a blast for the children. True, there’s no international travel – for the third year in a row, we didn’t fancy the Covid risk. But they’ll be beetling about the UK, visiting new places and old relatives; and hopefully having some fun along the way. Not of course that there will be any thanks.

You can bet your bottom dollar that on days they’re at home, there will be cries of: “I’m bored!” Yet when we’re staying with family, I’ll be told they’d rather be at home. My son’s latest proclamation on all events that turn out to be even the teeniest bit unsatisfactory is: “I didn’t ask to be brought here.”

It’s galling for the obvious reason that I would bite someone’s hand off for the prospect of a six-week holiday. For a whole host of reasons, since I started my first job in 2000, I’ve only had more than a week off at a stretch on three occasions; and never more than a fortnight. I promise myself that one day I’ll have a sabbatical.

Like any guilt-ridden middle-class whinger I can hardly deny that all the juggling is possible because of various points of good fortune: I can often work from home, my wife works part-time and we have relatives who can help out, albeit that they’re not nearby. We’re lucky that we’re not having to shell out hundreds of pounds on childcare each week.

Still, I can’t help but wonder at times like this whether we’ve ended up getting things wrong when it comes to modern family life. The nuclear family doesn’t really work when both parents are working, unless close relatives are close by and available to help, or there is alternative access to affordable childcare provision (fat chance!).

I spent my twenties feeling delighted at the independence that came with living far away from my mum and dad; I’ve spent much of the past decade realising that familial distance is not only emotionally painful but can hit you in the pocket too. Of course, my parents might take a different view.

I’m being a grump, I know. I should take a leaf out of Madonna’s book and celebrate the holiday, as my children will be doing when they finish term on Wednesday. But come September, when they’re back at school, I’ll need a break.