The Weekend That Doesn't Need an Itinerary
We need to discuss what we've done to weekends.
Because I'm pretty sure they were originally intended to provide some sort of break.
Instead, many family weekends now begin with an itinerary that looks suspiciously like we're coordinating ground operations.
8:00 — practice.
9:30 — birthday party.
11:00 — errands.
12:30 — grab lunch in the car.
2:00 — family activity because we should do something fun together.
4:00 — groceries.
6:00 — another thing we forgot we agreed to attend.
Sunday?
Excellent.
Let's use that to prepare for Monday.
And then somewhere around Sunday evening we say:
“Why do I feel like we didn't even have a weekend?”
I have a theory.
Maybe it's because we turned the weekend into another shift.
We're Very Good at Filling Blank Spaces
A completely open Saturday should feel luxurious.
Instead, sometimes it feels suspicious.
Nothing on the calendar?
Surely we're forgetting something.
And if we're not forgetting something, perhaps we should schedule something.
We could go somewhere.
Find an event.
Take the kids somewhere fun.
Tackle a house project.
Run errands.
Finally organize that closet.
Make memories!
Before we know it, the blank square isn't blank anymore.
We've successfully rescued ourselves from the horrifying possibility of having nowhere to be.
An empty space on the calendar is not a problem waiting to be solved.
But Aren't We Supposed to Make Memories?
Absolutely.
Take the trip.
Go to the festival.
Cheer from the sidelines.
Explore the museum.
Visit the pumpkin patch.
Go find the giant dragon.
Our communities are full of incredible things to do with our kids.
I literally publish lists telling you about them.
So please understand the irony here. 😂
But knowing what's happening nearby doesn't mean your family needs to attend all of it.
The calendar is a menu.
It's not an assignment.
You can know about ten fun things happening this weekend...
and choose one.
Or none.
Kids Need Blank Space Too
Adults aren't the only ones carrying full calendars.
Kids spend their weekdays being told when to arrive, where to sit, when to eat, when to move and what comes next.
Then evenings can bring homework, practices, activities and bedtime routines.
There's value in giving them stretches of time when nobody is directing the next move.
Yes, this may result in:
“I'm boooooored.”
Do not panic.
Boredom is uncomfortable.
It is not an emergency.
Give it a minute.
Sometimes what follows is a blanket fort.
A cardboard-box invention.
A bike ride.
Drawing.
A game somebody invents that has 46 rules and none of them remain consistent.
Or lying dramatically across the couch announcing that there is literally nothing to do.
That counts as self-directed activity too, I suppose.
Parents Don't Have to Entertain Everyone
This one deserves its own section.
Because somewhere along the way, parents became cruise directors.
What are we doing today?
Where are we going?
What's for lunch?
Can we invite someone over?
Can we go somewhere?
Can we do something?
And sometimes the answer can simply be:
We're home today.
That's the activity.
Home.
You have toys.
You have snacks.
You have an imagination.
Godspeed.
Childhood doesn't require an entertainment department.
And parents don't have to audition for Employee of the Month.
Try Planning One Anchor
If completely unstructured weekends make your eye twitch, I'm not suggesting you throw the calendar into the trash.
Try choosing one anchor instead.
One thing everybody knows is happening.
Saturday morning farmers market.
Friday night football.
Breakfast somewhere local.
A hike.
Church.
Dinner with grandparents.
One event gives the weekend a little shape without making the whole thing feel like a conference schedule.
Then leave room around it.
Maybe you discover something else you want to do.
Great.
Maybe everybody ends up in pajamas at 2 p.m.
Also great.
Plan enough to enjoy the weekend.
Leave enough room to actually feel it.
And Yes, Chores Still Exist
Unfortunately.
Apparently declaring Saturday a day of rest does not cause groceries to materialize in the refrigerator.
Rude.
Laundry also refuses to respect personal boundaries.
So no, an unscheduled weekend doesn't necessarily mean lying motionless on the couch for 48 hours.
Although I support your dreams.
It can simply mean chores don't consume every available hour.
Pick what actually needs to happen.
Do enough.
Stop.
There will always be another drawer to organize.
Your family does not receive a trophy if all of them are completed by Sunday night.
Ordinary Weekends Count
Some of my favorite family moments would make terrible itinerary items.
“Everybody somehow ended up talking in the kitchen.”
Not very marketable.
“Kids played outside while I drank coffee.”
Probably won't sell tickets.
“We ordered food and watched a movie we'd already seen.”
Zero stars for originality.
But that's the thing.
Not every good memory announces itself as one.
Sometimes it happens because nobody had somewhere else to be.
Some of the best parts of family life happen in the spaces we forgot to schedule.
Consider This Your Permission Slip
Leave Saturday morning open.
Pick one event instead of four.
Say no to something everybody secretly doesn't want to attend.
Let the kids be bored.
Eat lunch at home.
Take an accidental nap.
Go somewhere because you feel like it—not because it's on the schedule.
Change your mind.
Stay home.
There is no prize for arriving at Monday having successfully maximized every minute of the weekend.
Actually, that sounds terrible.
Your weekend doesn't need an itinerary to matter.
Sometimes the plan can simply be:
We'll see where the day takes us. ❤️
