It's time to shorten school holidays and end six weeks of childcare hell

Telegraph

24-07-2025

My eldest son Rafferty finishes nursery this week. It feels funny writing that down because I've been in denial about it for a while. Not for any sentimental reason (though there is a touch of that) but because the arrival of the summer holidays fills me with so much panic that I've chosen, rather unwisely, to stick my fingers in my ears and pretend it's not happening.
Surely a shorter school holiday would be far more manageable – for all families? In fact, 53 per cent of all parents – single, married or otherwise – surveyed by Parentkind last week would prefer that the summer break was cut to a month. Tempting, no?
I've even had to mute the nursery WhatsApp group too, because it's become the holiday camp headquarters. Parents are trading secret codes, exchanging insider tips and demonstrating levels of forward planning that terrify me.
For the uninitiated, these holiday camps are action-packed days of fun hosted by schools and sports clubs – and a way to enable parents to carry on working as normal-ish out of term time. Thank goodness they exist, frankly. But they do have their downsides. For starters, they are expensive, at about £250 a week. And most of them finish at 3pm – perfectly reasonable, unless you're trying not to get sacked. You usually have to pack a lunch, too, which sounds like nothing – but over half-term was somehow the straw that broke me.
Add to that the co-ordination: trying to match up camps with your kid's friends, so they don't end up in a random scout hut with a bunch of strangers and a deflated parachute. Hence the WhatsApp group chatter. I really must unmute.
A unique kind of pressure
Dr Ally Tomlins, a consultant clinical psychologist, sees my brand of seasonal stress all the time in her clinic. 'The summer holidays are often painted as a time of joy and togetherness, but for many families they can bring a unique kind of pressure,' she says. 'The mental load on parents can become overwhelming. They're juggling logistics, childcare, work commitments, sibling squabbles and the invisible labour of trying to 'make memories' while everyone is a bit hot, tired and off-routine.'
Tell me about it. Rafferty usually loves a holiday camp. His days are spent leaping on giant inflatables, playing football and larking about. On one occasion, I showed up early to surprise him and he made me promise never to do it again. But that doesn't stop the guilt. At the end of my working day, I know that I'll still be scrolling Instagram feeling bad that he isn't doing something 'immersive' with dinosaurs, petting llamas with me at the zoo or flying to Mauritius.
To be fair, I haven't made things easy for myself. I'm a solo mother by choice, so I can't swap out with a co-parent, because there isn't one. The burden of six weeks without childcare falls squarely on my shoulders, and as I'm self-employed, taking time off is its own financial and logistical maze, although luckily my youngest Milo, 16 months, has year round care at his nursery. But at least I knew what I was letting myself in for; many single parents didn't.
Should we make it a month?
Should we actually make it a month-long break, instead of the dreaded six weeks? Although it sounds appealing to adults, it may not really be the right thing for our kids. Dr Tomlins offers her perspective. 'Children benefit hugely from unstructured time,' she says.
'Long holidays give space to decompress, play deeply and develop life skills that don't fit neatly into a school timetable. So rather than shortening the holiday outright, we might focus on how we scaffold it better, with accessible community activities, safe spaces to play, and support for parents to manage their own wellbeing.'
Grandparents are increasingly part of that solution – with more than half helping out while their children are at work. SunLife Insurance estimates that they save UK parents up to £96 billion a year in childcare costs.
However, mine are, ahem, cruising the Norwegian fjords as we speak for their 50th wedding anniversary. How can I begrudge them that? Plus, they are in – or approaching (before my mother disowns me) – their eighties, there's only so much I can reasonably expect them to do.
Thankfully, I have an exceptional support network around me, which helps. There are neighbours and friends who'll help with drop-offs and pick-ups and who can take the kids for playdates on the days I haven't been able to shell out for 'extended hours'. That stuff is gold dust when you're working full-time, solo parenting – or both.
For once, the Europeans want to be more like us
Looking at our European counterparts – where 12-, 13- and even 14-week breaks (gah!) are the norm in many countries – maybe I should count my blessings. In Lombardy, where three-month summer holidays are standard, mental health appointments with parents rise by up to 40 per cent every summer compared with the rest of the year. A petition with more than 70,000 signatures was even delivered to the Italian senate demanding holidays more in line with the British system. So perhaps I'll pipe down – or at least try to chill out.
'Intentional parenting with a light touch' could also help. 'That means approaching the holidays not as something to survive or perfect, but as an opportunity to pause, reset and connect in small, meaningful ways,' says Dr Tomlins.
'Start by getting clear on your values. What do you really want your children to remember from these weeks? It's usually not the expensive outings, but the moments of playfulness, calm and feeling seen. And remember: 'Good enough is great'.'
And – as every adult born pre the digital age knows, getting bored is an essential part of the summer holiday routine. Dr Tomlins adds, 'If the goal is joy and connection, you don't need to entertain your children every minute. In fact, boredom is a gateway to creativity. Give them time to be 'delightfully under-stimulated' – it supports emotional regulation and independence.'
Music to my ears – now that I've removed my fingers from them. Small, spontaneous moments of playfulness feel achievable. I can feel my shoulders drop just thinking about the holidays in that way. A camp-free day here and there to spend intentional, quality time together feels like a revelation. Suddenly, I can look forward to a day off to get really involved in Rafferty's latest Lego creation or to play swingball with him in the garden.
As Dr Tomlins puts it: 'Summer can bring both joy and tension. My advice is to lower the bar and raise the connection. Focus on small wins: a shared laugh; a moment of calm; a soft evening spent side by side. That's where the joy of childhood and family life really lives.'
She's right, I think. Just last week, Rafferty and I did some 'gardening' together, which mostly involved him painstakingly spraying all the plants with his tiny water pistol and then sweeping up the odd leaf with a dustpan and brush. He's still talking about it now.
I won't pretend I'm looking forward to every minute of the summer. I know there will be moments when I want to hide in a cupboard – and possibly will. But perhaps I'll go in with lower expectations – and that reminder from Dr Tomlins on the fridge: 'Good enough is great'. See you on the other side.