We’ve all been chased around the internet by that punch-you-in-the-gut meme claiming you only get 18 summers with your children before they disappear off to Malia to drink shots and never speak to you again. I’m fairly sure my mum – who I still holiday with every year despite me being in my 40s – would tell you that’s wildly optimistic. And while I think the meme has saddled parents with a huge amount of pressure to make every summer magical, there’s a useful reminder hidden beneath the guilt.
The first holiday I took with my eldest was pretty bad. I could still remember what a holiday used to feel like, and bouncing a screeching, teething six-month-old through a Greek sunset dinner definitely wasn’t it. But I quickly adjusted my expectations and accepted that, for the next few years, a holiday was simply wherever my kids were happiest. I tested every all-inclusive resort within the radius of a two-hour flight, stopped packing books for myself and crammed inflatables into my suitcase instead. Summer holidays were chaotic, exhausting, hilarious and magical in equal measure.
This summer feels different. My eldest is 12, my youngest is five, and we’re road-tripping around Canada because it’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to explore. The itinerary still includes viral ice-cream stops and waterparks, but it also involves brilliant restaurants and shopping for me. For the first time in years, it feels like a holiday for all of us.
That’s the thing about those 18 summers. Yes, they’re finite. But so is every exhausting stage that comes with them. If childcare logistics feel impossible this summer (mine certainly do), remember that one day they’ll disappear to the park with their friends and coordinating kids’ clubs will be a distant memory. If the thought of flying abroad with toddlers makes you want to lie down in a dark room, trust that your adventurous self hasn’t disappeared forever and that ice lollies in the garden are enough this year.
I think that’s the real point of that bloody meme. It’s not a reminder to treasure every second, but a reminder that, like everything with parenting, nothing stays the same for long – not the chaos, not the compromises, and not the eye-watering cost of sodding kids’ clubs.
So have a wonderful summer, whatever stage you’re in. See you on the other side!
Alix Walker
Head of Editorial (and mum-of-four)