Not too long ago—okay, it was just two years ago, but kid time is like dog years—my partner, Mike, and I had a delightful Sunday routine. Each week, we’d hire a babysitter to look after our daughter, Lily, who was then just 3, from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. This precious time allowed us to enjoy brunch, stroll around our Brooklyn neighborhood hand in hand, toss a Frisbee with our dog, and most importantly, reconnect after a crazy week of juggling work and family duties.
Those three hours felt like a warm-up for the real fun that awaited us post-nap. At exactly 1 p.m., we’d return home, settle Lily into her afternoon snooze, and retreat to the bedroom for some well-deserved relaxation and intimacy. Oh, those were the days—until Lily decided naps were for babies, and our little tradition went out the window.
Fast forward a few years, and now Lily is 5, busy with kindergarten. Mike and I are both freelancing from home, racing against the clock to finish work before her 2:45 p.m. dismissal. Funds are tight, but we cherish the quality time spent with Lily—when school is in session. However, when school is out, it’s a different story altogether.
As April approached and we braced ourselves for the upcoming spring break, dread settled in. How would we manage a whole week with Lily at home? Yikes!
In a last-minute scramble for playdates and Netflix movies, an email arrived from her school announcing a spring break camp. Excitement bubbled up in an email thread among the other parents discussing their plans. “Mia’s going to Arts & Crafts Wednesday!” one mom chimed in. “And Max is all about Bowling Thursday!” Another replied. I decided we could swing for just two days.
Lily chose Arts & Crafts Wednesday (a crafty paradise for her) and Bowling Thursday. However, by the time I registered, bowling spots were gone. I reluctantly forked over $90 for Wednesday, relieved that Lily would at least have one day of fun.
Then it hit me—Mike and I deserved some fun too, right? I declared Wednesday as our much-needed Foreplay Day Date.
When spring break finally rolled around, we were all set to drop Lily off at camp. But as we arrived, something felt…off. The main entrance was open, but there were no signs indicating where the camp was located.
Mike joked, “Think they moved the camp elsewhere?”
“It can’t be,” I replied. Just then, another dad emerged, equally confused with his kid in tow. We banded together and followed the sounds to the cafeteria, where we were handed a clipboard to sign Lily in by a woman who promptly vanished.
“Shouldn’t there be a counselor?” Mike whispered.
“Maybe one of those adults in the back?” I pointed to the scattered adults who seemed more interested in their phones than the kids.
In front of us were four stations brimming with self-directed activities: crayons, marshmallows, Legos, and dolls. I silently prayed to my agnostic universe: Please let this just be a temporary setup until the real camp activities kick off.
We plastered on smiles. “Hey, Lily! Look at all the crayons!” I encouraged. She sat down but didn’t seem too thrilled. With a quick hug, we slipped out unnoticed.
Once outside, I remarked, “That felt kind of sad.”
Mike squeezed my hand. “Lily will be fine!”
“Anyone could walk in and take a kid from that room, and nobody would bat an eye,” I said.
“After all the parenting challenges we’ve faced, she can handle one day without us. Trust me,” he replied.
And with that, we shoved our guilt aside and dove into our day date. We strolled, grabbed breakfast, and even popped open some prosecco bought just for the occasion.
The hours sped by, and before we knew it, it was time to pick Lily up—at least now we knew where to go.
Lily raced into our arms. “Mommy! Daddy!” we embraced her, and she waved goodbye to a new friend she had made.
“So, how was it?” I asked, excitement bubbling.
She sighed dramatically. “I didn’t really like it.”
“Oh no,” I said, feeling deflated. “Why not?”
“Because we didn’t plant anything, and we didn’t do any arts and crafts.”
“Did you at least go to the playground?” Mike asked.
“Yeah,” she replied, unimpressed. “It just felt like a really long day.”
Guilt washed over me, and I mentally drafted an email for a refund. But by dinner, Lily was back to her usual self, and I decided the school, overall excellent, deserved the fee despite the day’s mishaps.
Today marks the start of Lily’s summer break, which means eight weeks of freedom! But this time, she’ll be attending camp for the entire month of July. I’m confident she’ll have a blast—not just because it’s not in the school cafeteria, but because we visited their open house and it was awesome.
Next April, when first-grade spring break arrives, I’ll be ready with three key strategies:
- I’ll register her faster than a kid can say “sugar rush.”
- I’ll ensure she signs up for field trip days only.
- I’ll stock up on two bottles of prosecco instead of one!
In the end, parenting is all about balance, and sometimes, you just need to make room for your own fun. For more on navigating parenthood, check out our blog on home insemination kits and parenting tips.