As September approaches, the big mom chat kicks off every year. Some are grateful the summer chaos is finally over, while others sigh dramatically, bracing for kid-free days as if a deep, child-free void suddenly opens up in their lives.
Me? I’m somewhere in between.
Our summer swings between idyllic and chaotic. Sometimes my daughter and I are totally in sync, and every moment feels golden: spontaneous beach trips, last-minute hikes, or an evening ice cream just because we feel like it. Thanks to my flexible work schedule, I can switch off during the day to be with her and work in the evenings. But then there are days when, to put it mildly, we’d both benefit from being in separate houses.
Still, if I had to choose, the feeling of summer freedom always beats the school year’s routine. This year, I felt it especially strong: I’m definitely not looking forward to back-to-school. In fact…
Here are the 5 main reasons why September feels more like a challenge than a relief for me
The dread of early mornings
Summer means no alarm clocks. We lounge around late, and if we stayed up until dawn the night before, no one nags us to wake up (and I don’t have to nag anyone either). My daughter is old enough to keep herself busy in the mornings, so our relaxed summer rhythm is a true treasure—and the Mediterranean vibe sticks with us even if we don’t leave the country.
Come September, early mornings take over. Even though we’re lucky to live close to school and avoid traffic on the way to work, just knowing we have to get up on time steals some magic from the mornings. No matter how hard I try to start the day with optimism, I’ll always miss the summer freedom of "waking up whenever we feel like it."
The end of spontaneity
The school year sets a strict schedule—anyone who’s been to school or taken a kid there knows this well. Clubs, tests, extra lessons, homework—on repeat.
In summer, I got to show my daughter a different way to live: shaping our days ourselves, reshuffling plans, slowing down when we want. That freedom disappears in September, replaced by the hamster wheel that’s never felt quite like home to me. I know kids need routine, but it’s hard to let go of the flexibility that summer gifts us.
The never-ending lunchbox saga
I clearly remember getting the same sandwich every day for snack as a kid, whether we liked it or not. Our parents knew if we got hungry, we’d eat it or trade it—problem solved. I try to be creative, making varied snacks and lunches, decorating them, but the feedback often boils down to “it’s so boring” or “it wasn’t tasty.” Every afternoon, the “what should I pack for tomorrow?” record starts playing again, and I already dread it.
It’s not a huge tragedy on my list, just one of those annoying little things. The world won’t end if I pack snacks again, but it was nice to forget the snap of the lunchbox lid for three months.
The evening struggle
When my daughter has sports or clubs, she often gets home late afternoon or evening. By the time we eat and prepare for the next day, it’s already dark outside, especially in the colder months. It’s no surprise she has zero energy to study then, so these evenings usually start with arguments because we’re both tired.
In summer, we stroll at sunset, bike on cooler evenings, or grill outside. It feels a thousand times better than the stress of “there’s a test tomorrow.” I catch myself often wishing for summer sunsets more than good grades on the school portal.
The inevitable September cold
In recent years, not a single September has passed without my daughter coming home with a cold or cough during the first weeks of school. Despite August’s immune-boosting routines and natural vitamins, this scenario is somehow guaranteed for us. This year, though, we’re seasoned pros: we timed a September trip with her dad to get through the first wave of sickness and leave her safely with her grandparents for a few nights.
If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that back-to-school doesn’t start with a big, relieved sigh. It demands extra energy and patience to get through the beginning.
For me, back-to-school feels more like a long, structured march missing the free breath of summer. But until the first break arrives, I try to cherish every small, unexpected joy. Because the true beauty of childhood and motherhood lies in those moments you can’t pencil into the calendar.
