Another term, another holiday...Preparing for the September school holidays
In her column, Tracy shares experiences and lessons learnt as she navigates life and grows with her two boys. To share your views email Tracy on tracy-lynn.ruiters@inl.co.za
Image: File
The week before the September school holidays.
That magical stretch of time that fills me with equal measures of anticipation and quiet dread. As I sip my morning coffee which, let’s be honest, is probably already cold I am mentally preparing for what I know is coming.
Every single morning, without fail, I hear the same question, repeated in tones of desperate excitement: “Mommy, how many more sleeps until the holidays?” Bless his soul.
He’s probably going to be so angry when he finds out the holidays are only for a week. In his mind, this is a very long holiday, a glorious, endless stretch of freedom. The reality, of course, is far shorter, and I can already picture the tiny dramatic meltdown when he realises it.
Even as I brace myself, I can’t help but smile at his excitement. There’s something so pure about the way he counts down, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with anticipation, completely oblivious to the reality of the situation.
But as charming as it is, I know exactly what that countdown entails for me: constant snack requests, endless filling up on treats, and the need for activities that are simultaneously entertaining, educational, and cheap enough not to break the bank.
This week is all about preparation. I find myself working out budgets in my head while walking past the pantry for the third time in 10 minutes.
How much yoghurt can I dole out before it becomes too much? How many endless cups of Oros can he drink before I start rationing it like a prison warden? And the chips… well, the chips will mysteriously disappear faster than I can restock them.
Big boy is amped for his matric ball
Image: Dad
I’ve also started planning activities in advance: a mix of art projects, short nature walks, a movie here, a baking session there. Anything to keep him engaged and to keep me from losing my mind before the holidays officially start.
Every morning, as I wrestle him into his school uniform and coax him to eat something more substantial than a yoghurt snack, I hear the countdown again. And again. And again. It’s like living inside a broken record, the refrain echoing through the house: “How many more sleeps, Mommy? How many more sleeps?” And I remind myself: patience, patience, patience. One week. One tiny, fleeting week much shorter than his imagination has led him to believe.
I also know there will be unexpected challenges. He’ll suddenly develop an obsession with one activity, insisting it must be done immediately. Snacks will vanish faster than I can restock them.
And every so often, there will be tears not necessarily over anything substantial, but because the world does not bend to his timetable. I am quietly rehearsing my calm responses: deep breaths, gentle reminders, and, on occasion, strategic bribes of chips or an extra glass of Oros.
And yet, despite all this, I feel a sense of excitement too. One week of uninterrupted attention to him, one week to see the world through his eyes, one week of tiny victories, laughter, and shared joy. It’s exhausting just thinking about it, but there’s also something wonderful in knowing we will experience it together.
So here I am, mentally mapping out snacks, planning activities, and bracing myself for the “sleeps” countdown that will dominate every morning.
September holidays, you are looming, and I see you and I’m preparing for impact. But if I’m honest, I wouldn’t trade this chaos for the world. After all, the anticipation, the excitement, and even the tiny frustrations are what make these moments memorable.
One week away from routine, one week of laughter, one week of pure childhood joy and if I survive it, I will have my coffee, my sanity, and maybe a quiet moment to myself by the end of it.
tracy-lynn.ruiters@inl.co.za