When September comes around, it always feels like a reset button has been pressed. I don’t mean simply for the kids, but for us parents too.
While I always like the fresh, crisp mornings that signify the start of a new academic year (a real reminder of my childhood), this September has been particularly chaotic. My eldest is starting Year 12, diving headfirst into sixth-form while also juggling gymnastics and cheerleading. Izzy, my youngest is heading into Year 8, full of energy and excitement because she’s discovered she can join the Air Cadets.
In theory this all sounds brilliant. The kids are back to education, have varied interests and after a lazy summer, will be getting off the sofa to do something constructive. While this is all frightfully positive, the flip side is this is a juggling act that has me wondering whether I need a PA, a personal driver, or perhaps both (although in reality I could pass on the PA and have several drivers).
Every now and again I find myself reminiscing about the Reception years with a strange mix of nostalgia and disbelief. School and family life was a more simple affair. The clubs were mostly run by the school, five minutes from home, and considerably cheaper. I could usually squeeze in an after school club or two and still have dinner on the table by six. These days dinner is frequently served whenever we can cobble something together between drop-offs, pickups, and out of hours work commitments.
Take gymnastics, for instance. My eldest absolutely loves it. It’s a sport she has participated in for years Watching her strength and skill develop is one of those proud-dad things that gives me goosebumps. But the gym is a 30-minute drive each way, and the sessions seem to be at precisely the wrong time for everything else. I joke sometimes that I should just move a desk into the car and work from the driver’s seat, because I spend so much time ferrying her back and forth.
Then there’s the Air Cadets. My youngest is buzzing about it, and I can’t deny it’s a fantastic opportunity. Discipline, teamwork, all those things you hope will balance out the occasional teenage sulk. The cadets, however, comes with uniforms to buy, events to prepare for, and evenings swallowed up in yet another round of “Dad, can you just drop me off at…” I’ve learned the hard way that there’s no such thing as “just” when it comes to parenting teenagers.
Work doesn’t magically pause while I’m doing the family shuttle run. Emails keep coming, and deadlines loom. There’s a constant push and pull between wanting to give my kids the support they deserve, and balancing that with the pressures of work (easier when I was a stay at home dad). The word “balance” gets thrown around a lot, but most days it feels more like spinning plates, hoping none of them smash.
And yet, for all the chaos, there’s something strangely satisfying about it too. Seeing my eldest commit herself to her sport, or my youngest bursting with pride in her cadet uniform: It makes the stress worthwhile. They’re growing into themselves, testing their limits, and discovering who they want to be. That’s what keeps me going when I’m stuck in traffic for the third time in a day or staring at the family calendar like it’s some kind of military operation.
So yes, I miss the simplicity of Reception. I miss the days when after-school club meant half an hour of Lego and colouring. But I wouldn’t trade this stage for the world. Because while it’s harder, it’s also richer. The challenges are bigger, but so are the rewards. And if nothing else, at least I’ve become a master of the on-the-go packed dinner.
