The Stresses of Break Scheduling

Memorial Day weekend is upon us and every year it reminds me that we’re nearing the end of the school year. The summer countdown begins. It’s always exciting to think about the warm weather and all the fun things that summer will hold.

But as I sit here and think of fun things to do this weekend, it reminds me that I become the family planner for all things summer. My children’s daily schedule depends on me until my husband gets off work. And even then, there’s the garden, the yard, or the pool that he tends to. Creating a summer’s worth of daily schedules  is a daunting task when you have a neurodivergent child.

You see, Hudson thrives on structure and a schedule. After a year of planning lessons, the last thing I want to do is plan everyday of my child’s summer, and if Hudson had his way he’d play the PlayStation and swim his summer away. Sounds fine and typical of most kids, sure, but for Hudson this isn’t an ideal structure.

With Finnley, our neurotypical child, it’s a little easier. He loves school so when I offer to enroll him in a summer program he’s all for it and excited (most days) to go. With Hudson it’s a lot harder. He doesn’t enjoy school, so getting him to agree to go is difficult within itself and I certainly don’t want to send him to a place where he’s going to be miserable. Hudson also was granted a 1:1 aide this year and it’s made all the difference. At a summer program he won’t get that, which I feel like it’s something he needs to help navigate social situations.

Last summer I attempted to send Hudson to a weeklong day camp. He was only enrolled for the morning session. He lasted 2.5 hours before I was called to come get him. The camp didn’t have the resources to help him and instead contained him in the nurse’s office until I could come get him. Needless to say, we didn’t return. So, instead I came up with a schedule. We had a daily schedule of working on a school workbook, reading and then we’d do some sort of physical activity, like walking a trail. Usually, in the afternoon we’d go swimming in our pool. I am fortunate to be able to do this with him since I have “summers off” (I say that delicately because as teacher, you know that’s not always the case). I was also fortunate that Finnley attended summer school for 6 weeks, allowing me to put my focus on Hudson. Admittedly, this didn’t last all summer as I found myself getting burnt out and we had some major house issues (which resulted in putting me into an even more burnt out state).

Each year I’ve tried something different to help keep our summers full. The summer after kindergarten I planned playdate after playdate. But I found that to be exhausting for both Hudson and myself. By the end of each playdate I’d find Hudson on the couch with a blanket over his head watching videos on his tablet (his way of decompressing). The summer after first grade I enrolled him in summer school. It wasn’t a disaster but it also wasn’t great, and his teacher recommended giving him a break from school. So, before the day camp disaster of last summer I obsessed over finding camps for him to go to, much to my husband’s hesitation. When the camp didn’t work out I cried the rest of the week.

This summer I’m not putting any crazy plans into motion. Would I love to find a summer camp for him? Absolutely, but close to home options for neurodivergent children, like Hudson, are nonexistent. We do have some plans in place, visiting his new school building for next year, PT skills that I’ve been asked to work on with him, an executive functioning workbook and hopefully a couple play dates thrown in there. And of course hearing 6,373 dinosaur facts everyday.

Not exactly the summer you think of for your child, but we don’t get to have a normal summer like others because nothing in our world is normal.