Sunshine, Smiles, and Struggles: Parenting with Chronic Pain in Summer
The summer holidays are always a mix of excitement and exhaustion. Six long weeks of freedom for the kids sound like bliss on paper—but when you live with chronic pain, it can feel overwhelming too. There’s this constant tug-of-war inside me: I want my children to have the best summer possible, full of laughter, adventures, and memories they’ll treasure. But I also want to enjoy it myself. I don’t just want to watch them be happy; I want to feel part of it, even on the hard days.
The Challenge of Balancing Both Worlds
Traveling with kids is never simple. There are snacks to pack, tantrums to calm, and endless “are we there yet?” questions. Add chronic pain into the mix, and suddenly every outing feels like a marathon. A day trip that looks simple for another family—say, a picnic at the park or a visit to the beach—requires me to plan around energy levels, flare-ups, and the fear of overdoing it.
Sometimes I catch myself worrying: Will my children look back and remember a mum who was always tired, or a mum who couldn’t do as much? But then I remind myself: they’ll also remember the effort. They’ll remember that even when it hurt, I still tried.
The Highs: Golden Moments
There are moments that make all the planning and pacing worth it. The way their eyes light up when they spot the sea for the first time that day. The giggles during a messy ice cream moment. The joy of watching them run free while I sit back, aching but still present, soaking in the sound of their laughter.
Those are the memories I hold onto—the golden threads woven into the tougher days. They remind me why I push through, why I make space for these experiences even when my body protests.
The Lows: Quiet Struggles
But there are lows too. Days where the pain flares and I can barely manage the basics. Days when I feel guilty for saying no, for cutting an outing short, for needing to rest when they still want to play. Sometimes it feels like I’m letting them down. And honestly? Sometimes I feel like I’m letting myself down too, because I want to be fully there and can’t always be.
Those moments are heavy. They test my patience, my resilience, and sometimes even my self-worth.
Finding the Balance
What I’ve learned is that making memories doesn’t have to mean doing everything. It can mean choosing one small adventure each day and letting that be enough. It can mean listening to my body, pacing myself, and being honest with the kids. And surprisingly, kids adapt. They’re more resilient and understanding than we often give them credit for.
Some of our sweetest summer memories aren’t the big trips—they’re the simple ones. Reading stories together, building Lego castles, or eating lunch outside in the garden. Those moments matter just as much as the beach trips or theme parks.
Closing Thoughts
This summer has had its highs and lows, as it always does. Living with chronic pain means I have to navigate holidays differently, but it doesn’t mean my children will have less joy—or that I won’t make memories with them. It just means our memories might look a little different. And maybe that’s okay.
Because in the end, what matters most is not how far we travel or how much we do, but how much love fills the moments we share.