Our first summer as a family of five has been intense. Here is an honest snapshot of what our days actually look like as it draws to a close.
How mornings begin
Mr wakes first, somewhere between six and seven. B usually follows immediately – though having nursed through the night, he is not hungry straight away and is happy to lie close and be cuddled. The two boys together in the morning are genuinely one of my favourite things about this season. They look at each other and smile. Mr leans in for a hug, carefully and with great intention. B watches his brother with those wide, clear eyes. It is soft and warm and over quickly, but I notice it every time.
Ms wakes last – usually before eight even in summer, which suggests she is simply getting the sleep she needs rather than having any left to spare. She comes out already moving, already talking, already wanting something.
The childminder comes a few mornings a week, which makes an enormous difference. Today the neighbours’ daughter was also here – she turned ten today and has been something between an extra child and an unofficial helper for us all summer, someone we can send Ms outside with confidently, someone who pushes Mr’s balance bike so I have both hands free for B’s pram.
The potty training chapter we are currently in
Mr’s potty training has been going for two weeks and it is, to be honest, not going well. He will sit on the potty – that part we have managed. But he gets up immediately, and then proceeds to go five times in the next hour on the sofa, the floor, wherever he happens to be. I keep reminding myself that progress is progress: he sometimes does use the potty, and he tolerates sitting there at all, and with Down syndrome these things simply take longer. I know this. Knowing it does not make the paper-towel sprinting any less exhausting.
It creates pressure on the mornings too. My partner needs to leave for work early, and if Mr needs dealing with at the exact moment I am nursing B, the timing gets tight and everyone’s nerves show. We manage. But it is one of those things where the gap between what needs doing and how many hands are available is felt most sharply.
The shape of a summer day
After breakfast I send Ms outside. She argues about this, reliably, every single day. I do not give in, and eventually she goes, and within minutes she is fine. Then we all head out – Mr on his balance bike, B in the pram, Ms on her bicycle with her helmet. We walk to the sea, through the village, along the road. We are usually out by half nine if everything goes smoothly, which it does not always do.
By eleven I am starting lunch. Usually reheating something from the night before, which is a habit I have become very deliberate about – cooking once for two meals saves more than I can quantify in a day like this. Mr goes down for his nap before twelve. B still has no fixed daytime sleep rhythm at four months, just spontaneous naps that come and go, so I cannot count on him sleeping at the same time. When Mr is asleep and Ms is outside or drawing quietly, I have a stretch of time that functions almost like calm. I use it for B, for myself, sometimes for both at once.
When Mr wakes up it is potty, water, snack, outside again. If my partner has a shorter day he takes the older two to the grandparents or out to the garden. On those evenings I walk further with B alone, which is the best thing I do for myself most days. When my partner is still at work, we all go out together and I manage it, because by now I know how.
Bedtime is nine. It takes a while to get there.
Today, which was a good one
This morning we went to the sea – the childminder, the neighbours’ daughter, me, and all three children. Windy and bright. The neighbours’ daughter pushed Mr while I had both hands on B’s pram and Ms rode ahead. It is a small thing, having one extra person, and it changes everything about how an outing feels.
When Mr went down for his nap the childminder headed home. The neighbours’ daughter stayed and she and Ms painted together at the table – quietly, without needing anything from me. My partner came home briefly and took Ms with him to work for a while, which Ms finds enormously exciting. The neighbours’ daughter went home. I lay down with B and we both slept.
We woke together – me, Mr, and B – and it was one of those moments of complete ordinariness that I find myself storing away. Then potty attempt, some success, some not. I made dinner, nursed B, fed Mr. We went outside again in the early evening. My partner and Ms came back. The neighbours’ daughter returned with her father. We bought a cake for her birthday – the real party is the day after tomorrow, but the actual day felt worth marking too. We sat outside, ate cake, drank something cold. It was easy and good.
What is still to come
The childminder is here again tomorrow and the day after. The neighbours’ daughter’s birthday party is the day after tomorrow, which all three of mine are looking forward to for different reasons. At the end of the week we drive to the city – a concert and dinner on Saturday evening. We are still inside summer and I intend to stay there as long as it holds.
Our first summer as a family of five has been intense in ways I could not have fully anticipated. It has also been full of things I would not trade – the mornings with the boys looking at each other and smiling, Ms on her bicycle ahead of us on the road, the sea at the end of a fifteen-minute walk, the neighbours’ daughter appearing at the door and making everything slightly easier just by being there.
We are not done yet. A few more warm evenings left. I am paying attention.
You are not alone.
If this story resonated with you and you’d like to go deeper, you can explore my e-book Our Journey – A Different Path. It offers honest reflections and lived experience beyond this post.
If you’re looking for practical support, I’ve created Routine Templates to help parents and children navigate daily life with more clarity, structure, and understanding.
You can also read my previous posts or follow along on Instagram @parentguidancehub, where I share everyday reflections on parenting, family life, and finding balance.
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