Two years ago—though in the realm of parenting, that feels like an eternity—my partner Alex and I established a cherished weekend routine. Every Sunday, we engaged the services of a babysitter for a few hours to care for our daughter, Mia, who was just three at the time. This allowed us to indulge in brunch, stroll through our Brooklyn neighborhood, and enjoy some quality time together. Most importantly, it provided a chance for us to reconnect after a busy week focused on work and family obligations.
These three hours were much more than just a break; they served as a prelude to a more intimate afternoon, culminating in hours of relaxation and enjoyment together. Those were truly blissful moments—until the day Mia decided she no longer needed her afternoon nap, which drastically altered our routine.
Fast forward a few years, and Mia is now five and attending kindergarten at our local public school. Both Alex and I are freelancers, attempting to maximize our productivity before her 2:45 dismissal. Our budget is tight, but we treasure the quality time we spend with Mia, particularly when school is in session. However, when school breaks arrive, the situation becomes more challenging.
As spring break approached last April, we faced the familiar anxiety of working parents who can’t afford vacation getaways or babysitting services. All our usual evening sitters had daytime jobs, leaving us with the impending reality of a full week confined to home with our daughter. Panic set in.
In our frantic search for playdates and new children’s movies on streaming platforms, we received an email from Mia’s school announcing a spring break camp. Excitement bubbled among the parents as they discussed their plans for participation. One parent wrote, “Sophia’s going to Zoo Tuesday, Bowling Thursday, and Movie Friday!” I decided we could manage to pay for two days of camp.
Mia chose Arts & Crafts Wednesday—a day filled with creative projects, playground excursions, and gardening activities. Unfortunately, by the time I registered her, the bowling spot was already taken. I paid the $90 for Wednesday, relieved that Mia could experience at least one day of fun.
Then it hit me—Alex and I deserved our own day of enjoyment too. It was spring break, after all. I insisted he set aside his work commitments for what I dubbed “Foreplay Date and Sex Wednesday.”
When spring break arrived, we were all eager for Mia to start camp. However, upon arriving at the school, everything felt off. The entrance was open, yet there were no signs indicating where the camp was located.
Alex chuckled, “Do you think the camp is at a different place?”
“Impossible,” I replied, as we followed the distant sounds of children to the cafeteria. Upon entering the gray room, we were met by an unidentified staff member who handed us a clipboard for sign-in before walking away.
“Shouldn’t there be a counselor?” Alex asked quietly.
“Maybe one of those adults in the back?” I gestured toward several adults who seemed disconnected from the children present.
In front of us were various self-directed activities: crayons, marshmallows, Legos, and dolls. I silently hoped this was just a temporary setup until the real activities began, as promised.
With forced enthusiasm, we encouraged Mia to color, but her engagement was half-hearted. We said our goodbyes, and it felt like no one even noticed as we left.
Once outside, I remarked, “That was utterly disheartening.”
Alex took my hand. “Mia will be fine.”
“Anyone could walk in and take a child from that room, and no one would notice,” I worried.
“After everything we’ve done for her, she can handle one day alone. Trust me.”
With that, we set aside our guilt and fully committed to our date day. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, returned home, uncorked the prosecco we had bought for the occasion, and indulged in our intimacy.
Before we knew it, time flew by, and it was almost time to pick up Mia. At least we now knew where to go.
Mia ran to us excitedly, “Mommy! Daddy!” We embraced her, and before leaving, she waved goodbye to a new friend she had made.
“So, how was it?” I eagerly inquired.
She sighed dramatically. “Not that great.”
“Oh?” I felt a wave of disappointment wash over me. “Why not?”
“Because we didn’t get to plant anything, and we didn’t do arts and crafts.”
“Did you at least go to the playground?” Alex asked.
“Yeah,” she replied, sounding uninterested. “It just felt like a really, really long day.”
As I wrestled with a mix of post-date guilt and disappointment, I contemplated sending an email to the school for a refund. However, by dinnertime, Mia had bounced back, and I concluded that the school—despite this experience—was worthy of the payment.
Now, as summer break begins for Mia, she is set to attend a camp throughout July, which she’s sure to love. This new camp is different, and I know she will thrive there, especially after visiting their open house.
Next spring, when the first-grade spring break rolls around, I will ensure three things:
- I’ll sign her up before spots fill up.
- I’ll prioritize field trip days.
- I’ll double our prosecco supply.
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In summary, while spring break can present challenges for working parents, finding creative solutions can lead to enjoyable experiences for both children and parents alike. With proper planning and the right resources, we can navigate these moments while still prioritizing family connections.
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