And you thought six weeks was long.

Unimpressed child hiding in regional park

I think it’s safe to say that I’m never going to be nominated for “Mum of the Year”. Unless it’s an award for “Most distracted, irritable, somewhat eccentric Mum who still manages to get her children to all the things they’re meant to be at in a vaguely presentable fashion, and who has somehow got them to mostly behave appropriately in public”. That’s a parenting win as far as I’m concerned, but don’t come to me if you need advice on getting kids to bed or eating their dinner or not always answering back. 

It’s the summer holidays here in Canada, so that time of the year when mothers like me see in full relief the inadequacies of their parenting abilities. Oh, you’re still here, children? And you want to do something? Yeah, I’ve been planning for the last five and a half years to have a day where I daydream for an hour or so, watch some pleasant television, and only eat bread and grapes. Maybe some salami or whatever looks appealing in the fridge. Oh, you want to do something. Right. And you want fed? Every day? God, I suppose so. I’m not going to be able to watch those episodes of Time Team or that documentary on Thomas Cromwell am I? Not even E! News? 

For those of you who have never experienced a North American summer vacation before, this goes on for 9 1/2 weeks. Yes, you read that right. Just over two months. For primary school children. TWO WHOLE MONTHS + a few extra days on either end. It’s like a mini form of hell, and being North America it’s pretty hot too. Endless weeks of 25+ degree temperatures and humidity hot. To make matters worse, the poor wee kids have just come off the back of 26 weeks of school since January with only 1 week off, a couple of teacher-only days and maybe Good Friday and Easter Monday. It’s insane. They’re tired, ratty and want you to entertain them. For 9 1/2 weeks. 

This is definitely a bit of a culture shock for me, because I’m used to the six-or-so-week-long New Zealand primary school summer holidays, conveniently kicked off with the fortnight of Christmas and New Year. The end of January and start of school comes by pretty quickly, so there are really only a couple of weeks idling about. There are always parents who have a bit of a ‘mare with childcare, but usually there are plenty of people around to muck about with. 

Canadians pride themselves on their outdoorsy summers, where families go away to the cottage or go portaging and lose themselves in nature for a week or two or four, but most people don’t actually have a cottage, and most parents have to work. Therefore, anything beyond a couple of weeks away is the preserve of the privileged. Unsurprisingly, with parents staring down the barrel of two months of kids at home, an extraordinary industry of summer camps and activities has developed. Some children have day camps (aka daycare) booked in for all 9 weeks of the summer, but even for families where a parent is home most of the time, summer camps are de rigueur. And boy do you start to feel the social expectation come early May: “So what camps are you signing up for this summer? We’re putting Molly into an great looking art camp and then thinking of a couple of weeks of mixed sport, or the YMCA? Do you want to co-ordinate weeks?”

Um, ah, actually, things are a bit tight right now, with, um, moving here and all, and me not having what you’d call a, ah, job, so, well, no. 

Booking my daughter into $200 per week day-camps was out of the question, so in the end we signed her up for a few swimming lessons and three mornings of an art programme. We’ll probably scrap together a last minute activity or two, but otherwise it’s fun with Mum and little brother for the summer.   

We’ll get bored and more than a little irritated with each other, but we’ll survive. We can go to the library and there are heaps of parks with splash pads around town. We’re also fortunate enough to have grandparents in town for the summer and a few friends on hand, but it really makes you wonder how people who are genuinely struggling manage the long Canadian summer. Parents who are working but can’t afford to make ends meet even when the kids are in school; parents who have no hope of being able to afford summer camps and still have to work, and have to scramble through two months of figuring out what their kids can do and who the hell will look after them. 

Because everything costs. Not just going away or summer camps, but going to the movies. Going to the art gallery costs. To the museum. You pay to take a car into a regional park, not to mention the petrol to get there. Going to the public pool costs. Sure, it’s $4 a head, but do it enough and it starts to add up. 

And don’t say to me, “But we never did summer activities. We just mucked about at home and played with our friends.” That’s great, but you were in the majority. Your neighbourhood pals were doing the same and most of your mums were mostly at home the whole summer. It’s all very well to celebrate my kids doing nothing like the good old days, but they don’t have very many friends to do nothing with because most of their friends are away or doing summer camps. In fact, you participate in an important aspect of the national cultural practice by attending summer camp. It’s that ingrained. 

In the meantime I’ll trust in the knowledge that being extremely, unbelievably bored is good for children, and we’ll try not to watch too much TV -- but I will damn well get to the end of that documentary on Thomas Cromwell. Come September, we’ll all be very ready for school and I’ll be extremely ready to start my new job. 

But next time you complain about wanting school to start after six weeks of a New Zealand summer, spare a thought for those useless parents like me who have to figure out something to DO for two whole months and a few extra days.