When the Schedule Disappears
Summer Survival for Parents of Neurodiverse Teens
“Why do I have to have therapy today?” My 15-year-old daughter screeches on a summer morning. “I don’t like therapy anyway. Half the time we talk about stupid stuff.”
I take a deep breath. “We agreed a few days ago to reschedule your appointment for this morning.” With this attitude, maybe you really need therapy.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone!” she says, stomping across the room.
“I hear that. But we don’t change appointments that are happening in ten minutes,” I reply.
She slams her door.
It’s a perfect teenage storm. The day before, my daughter logged ten hours at the amusement park. Afterwards, she stayed awake until midnight to decompress from all the stimulation. When she remembered to eat, her meals majored in her two favorite food groups: carbohydrates and sugar. This is a recipe for a volcanic eruption for any teen, especially one with ADHD.
While I always count the days until summer, with its promise of sunshine, lazy beach days, and freedom from maxed-out schedules, I also quietly dread it. Navigating summer for neurodiverse teenagers feels especially loaded. It’s even more complicated when they struggle with mental health issues.
On one hand, I’m excited for my three teens to catch their breath after an intense school year. I can see the exhaustion in their eyes. Both my college kids slept for twelve hours for days upon returning home. This summer, we’re enjoying the bonus of welcoming Ellie and William back home for more than a few weeks for the first time in nine months. We get to relearn how to be a family of five, after operating as a family of three while they lived at their respective colleges.
Yet if I’m honest, I also feel apprehensive. Historically, the shift from a highly structured routine to endless unstructured hours doesn’t go well for our teens, especially those who have struggled with mental health. As much as my teens complain about their constant academic demands, I suspect the absence of school’s familiar rhythms feels ominous.
It’s helped me to realize that my teens’ emotional outbursts during summer days aren’t a sign that I’ve failed as a mom, nor that there’s something deeply wrong with them. Transitions are extra hard for teens with mental health issues and/or neurodiversity. It’s not unusual for us as parents to become the target of their emotional dysregulation. Without predictable routines, our teens may make questionable choices around sleep and food which lead to moodiness, heightened anxiety, and more aggressive behavior. They may withdraw. Even though all of this is hard to watch, it’s common.
Within an hour of my daughter’s outburst, I get an email from her therapist, who tells me she refused to engage. I rub my eyes and visit my daughter between work meetings.
My daughter lies on her bed, clothes and garbage strewn so thickly across the floor that I can barely walk. How many times lately have we talked about cleaning up this room?
“Can we talk about why you ended therapy so early?”
She pulls her covers over her head.
“When are you going to do your chores? Some of them are time sensitive.”
She says in a small voice, “I just want to be alone and chill out.”
“But it’s almost noon. You’ve already had three hours to chill out.”
“Mom!”
Something inside me shifts. Use validation rather than logic with a dysregulated teen, I remember a therapist saying. “I can see that you’re exhausted and sad. Do you want a hug?”
“Maybe.” Her voice is muffled.
“You look like a pink ghost with your comforter over your head like that!” I climb into bed with her.
She makes a sound almost like a giggle. I put my arms around her.
She holds me tightly and sobs into the comforter between us.
“Let it all out,” I say. “It’s okay.”
We hold each other until her tears abate.
Immediately afterwards, nothing seems to change. She stays in bed, while I return to work. But we’ve strengthened our connection. Although she can’t articulate her pain, I understand her better. And she knows I care.
That evening, we enjoy a lovely family dinner. By then, she has finished all her chores and her mood shifts back to her usual giggly self.
Summer: The Parenting Rollercoaster
As we enter the emotional rollercoaster of summer parenting, I’m trying to remember some overall principles that have worked for our family.
Create Structure
When my teens were younger, I created weekly summer rhythms in the absence of our usual school structure. Those routines helped the kids’ anxiety; it also soothed mine. Sometimes we created structures that didn’t work; so we had to adjust. As our teens grew up, each one helped me create those structures, transforming potential chaos into something we could agree on. I learned the hard way that what works for one teen probably wouldn’t work for another; everyone needed their own plan.
Every family’s needs are different. Some families use day camp or sleep-away camp; some help teens find paid jobs. William and Ellie found volunteer opportunities at our church and in the community. High school sports camps provided a way for William and Leah to connect with their teammates while staying active.
As my teens aged out of camps, I looked for creative, affordable alternatives to provide structure and draw them away from their screens. I bought pool passes for Leah on the condition that she must plan at least five pool dates with friends to redeem their value. My daughters both love crocheting, so I typically buy yarn to encourage artistic endeavors. My husband often “hires” our teens to work in the garden, a modest salary included. In all these situations, I’ve learned to partner with my teens to find activities that appeal to them and provide enough structure to satisfy me.
Encourage Social Interaction
Supporting teens in navigating summer social dynamics can feel like a minefield. One of my teens is highly social but feels lonely when she can’t seem to get her friends together outside of school. Another teen struggles with social anxiety, which makes it hard for her to initiate. My son misses the constant companionship of his college friends, which is painful to watch. Sometimes despite our best efforts, our teens choose screens as their constant companions. When our teens do connect with their friends, I’m relieved, while also trying to manage my anxiety about questionable teenage drivers, unanswered text messages, and late-night outings.
While we cannot force social connections, we can coach our teens in how to make it happen. When my neurodiverse teens were younger and lacked executive functioning skills to set up friend dates, I brainstormed options with them. I’d ask: “What would you like to do with a friend? Do you want to invite them over to play games or go to the mall?” Sometimes I partnered with other parents to help a teenage hangout come together, to counteract persistent isolation.
I’ve also adjusted my expectations for each teen. Ellie, who is introverted and on the autism spectrum, prefers to keep her social circle small and focused. She relies more on our family for social interaction. So when she’s home, I adjust my schedule to spend more time with her. In contrast, the summer after his senior year, William spent more time with his friends than our family. So we had conversations about when he would join family meals. Each teen needs a different balance.
Commitment to Support
Just because our teens have a break from school doesn’t mean they take a break from their support system.
I’ll admit it takes extra energy to help teens remember therapy appointments in the absence of our usual routines. Even in the past two weeks, two of my teens have almost missed or completely forgotten therapy appointments. In those moments, we’ve taken a deep breath, given hugs, tried not to beat ourselves up, and added even more notifications to our phones.
While it can be tempting to throw out all obligations over the summer, we’ve found therapy and support groups are essential in this season. When we help our teens get the support they need, they’re more relaxed and grounded.
Our teens have other caring adults in their lives who can support them: aunts and uncles, grandparents and godparents, youth pastors and school counselors. When we’ve leaned on those adults for a fun day of adventure or a conversation, we’re usually better for it. Sometimes those folks are good for brainstorming solutions, too.
Conclusion
There’s no such thing as the perfect summer. I’m still learning to let go of expectations. Sometimes our teens flourish in the freedom of summer, and other times, they spiral downward. Some summer days feel almost magical. Other days, I’m fantasizing about everyone’s return to school. Even if our teen’s summer looks nothing like we originally envisioned, it helps me to remember they’re still growing and figuring things out along the way.
I think the beauty and challenges of summer are encapsulated in our ability to be with our kids in the messiness. When I think about that moment with my daughter in her bed, with her tears, the pink ghost, the way she clung to me, I remember we were in it together. Nothing seemed fixed, but we stayed connected. Maybe that’s my real goal as we navigate summer days with our teens: to help them know we’re finding our way together on the good and hard days.
I’d love to hear what summer looks like in your house - what’s working, what’s hard, what helps your family.
Grateful for your companionship on the journey,
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Such a great post. I have two tweens and it's always a hard balance between structure and free time. I'm also a little apprehensive!
Serena, I can only imagine how challenging it is to manage things in your family when there is less structure give the circumstances you've shared. I appreciated the peek into your world and it sounds like you are giving yourself some well-deserved grace while you handle it.