A recent advertising viral pointed out that we have only 18 Summers with our children. At best I think the intention was to inspire and encourage us to pause and be grateful for this time. At worst it was to buy some tatt or a holiday . It churned up all sorts of uncomfortable feelings for me, namely panic and Mum guilt.

Have I planned the Summer enough? What activities should they be doing? How much do they have to do? Is it ok to still be in pyjamas at 2pm on a regular basis? Will my three-year-old develop a health issue from the beige diet he insists upon? Does the holiday need to be abroad? Am I a fun Mum? Do I play with them enough? Are they reading enough? Is the tv on too much? Are they going to look back on these Summers fondly? Will I even bloody remember what we did?

No I possibly won’t. Our lives are too busy, the noise is everywhere so my memory is taking the hit, hard. But thank fully I’ve documented it, it’s in the photos. Thank goodness for that.

After school, yesterday we talked through the Summer, we shared the photos and watched the little videos we made. And they were so happy remembering the spider man helmet she made, the X-ray specs he designed. And it was often those bored late pyjama days which turned into the gold dust.

So I am sacking off the Mum guilt. Photos are everything and boredom is a necessary life skill…we’ve just got to brace ourselves for the initial whining stage and provide plenty of snacks, beige or otherwise.

















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