Jayne Dowle: Summer is an opportunity, not a hardship

On mornings like this it is tempting to side with the 87 per cent of parents who confessed in a recent survey that they struggle to keep their children entertained during the long summer holidays.

Personally, I refuse to accept the cliché that these five or six weeks are a total bore. And anyway, what kind of parent admits in public that they only like their own kids in small doses? Indeed, why bother having children at all if you’re not prepared to spend time with them?

I know it can be hard to keep them entertained, especially when money is tight and work has to be done. But instead of making life complicated, why don’t more parents see this as the time to really get to know their offspring?

Enter the holidays in a spirit of negativity and you’re doomed. Look at it this way instead. Our children spend hours and hours at school under ever-increasing levels of pressure. When they get home, they have homework and projects to do. How often do we get the chance just to hang out with them and find out what makes them tick?

That’s why we need these off-guard moments. It’s when we learn about what really bothers them. I never even knew that Jack was worried about dodgy meat getting into the food chain until the other day at lunch when he started pontificating about the morals of eating horses.

On a normal day, we don’t have much time to have a decent conversation, never mind a heated debate. What heaven it is to have a chat about subjects totally unrelated to SATs tests. What a revelation it was to witness Jack attempting to “solve” the problem of that lost football boot himself by logging onto eBay to find a cheap replacement pair. Who knew he had such common sense? Or such thrifty tendencies? Not me. Until now.

The holidays are definitely a time when it’s safe to test a few boundaries too. We know all about those modern children wrapped in cotton wool who never leave the confines of sofa and screen. That survey, conducted on behalf of Bounce, a children’s festival, also found that a third of under-16s spend their summers sitting inside playing video games or watching television. Apparently, this is “much more than parents would like”.

Excuse me, but who’s in charge here? Why do so many parents allow themselves to become the victims of circumstance? Is it any wonder that children lack the power and imagination to entertain themselves when their parents can’t be bothered to show them the way?

Although I dearly look forward to spending time with my two, the holidays are an opportunity to let them go a little. The other day Jack went into town on his own for the first time with his friends. I thought, why not? He’s almost 11. He’s ready. And I’m around in case of an emergency. These days, I struggle to recall his first step as a toddler, but I’ll remember the first time he went shopping without me. That’s what summer holidays should be about; making memories.

It’s not easy, I grant you. I’m a working parent like many others. But I make the sacrifices required to put the children first in the summer. Even though it takes a colossal juggling act of annual leave and getting up by 6am to meet my deadlines, it’s worth it.

I can see you thinking that perhaps 
the sun has got to my head. It hasn’t. I’ve always loved these halcyon days.

This year, though, they have been brought into even sharper focus by the thought that soon I won’t have two children. I will have one child, Lizzie, who is seven, and an adolescent.

That’s why this year is extra special. I want to enjoy Jack’s last moments as a kid before it’s too late. Before he’s swept away on a tide of hormones and music I haven’t even heard of.

And we’ve all got to enjoy these long holidays while we can. If the Education Secretary Michael Gove has his way, 
we might not have the luxury of five or six weeks off in future. Instead, schools will be at liberty to set their own holidays.

These will most likely be broken up into chunks of three or four weeks’ break punctuated by sweltering summer days in the classroom. I don’t want to think about that.

The prospect of a son and a daughter at different schools with different holidays is too bothersome to contemplate. For now, I just want to enjoy our time together. Even the challenging moments, like finding that blasted football boot.

We located it eventually, in a bush. It took us absolutely ages. But along the way we were finding something much more important – each other.