They Won’t Be This Little Forever — Some Thoughts on Summer, Spending and Slowing Down
- Vignesh Sivagnanam
- Jul 14, 2025
- 4 min read

Another school year just ended, and it’s hit me harder than usual.
Somehow, we’re already here again. Lunchboxes unpacked, suncream resurfacing, the end-of-term rush giving way to that strange in-between space that is early summer. And while the kids are buzzing, I’m... reflective.
Because the truth is, this year — like so many before it — flew by in a blur. The days were long, yes. But the months? Gone in a blink. We spent most of it rushing: drop-offs, pick-ups, work calls, packed lunches, bedtime stories, laundry piles. Always moving. Always just trying to get through the next thing.
Now I’m standing in the kitchen, staring out the window, asking myself: how did another whole year just... disappear?
I keep thinking: how many summers do we really get where the kids still want to run through the sprinkler in the garden? Or head out on their scooters for a loop around the block — just the two of them, chatting and laughing as they race each other to the next lamppost? Or crawl into bed for a cuddle before the day begins?

The end of the school year is a gut punch for me. A full-body reminder that time is slipping past, whether I notice it or not.
In the past 12 months alone, Sophia went from barely knowing her letters to writing her name and sounding out whole sentences. Chloé starred in school plays, learned to play piano with both hands, and is now reading books written for nine-year-olds. She’s only seven. And she’s somehow lost her baby face entirely.

When did that happen?
Time is moving fast. Too fast. And I find myself feeling guilty — like I’m not doing enough to make the most of it. Not soaking it in the way I should.
And here’s the thing: I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m working towards early retirement. I’ve set goals to step away from the grind by 45, and I’m on track. But what if I wasn’t? What if this was it, the default pace forever? What if the only option was to work until the kids were grown and gone, waving at a version of their childhood I only half remember?
It makes me wonder — seriously — what’s the point of all this if we don’t get to enjoy the people we love while we still have the time?
I know I’m not alone in this. Writing it down is as much for me as it is for anyone else. Maybe this summer, we can do things a little differently.
What Making the Most of Summer With Kids Looks Like for Us
It’s tempting to try and plan everything. Book the holidays. Fill the calendar. Make sure we’re “doing summer right.” But honestly? That’s not what I want this year.
What I want is to slow down. To say yes to the little things. To not feel like we’re chasing some perfect summer that doesn’t actually exist.
For us, making the most of summer with the kids means playing a bit more. Saying yes when the girls ask to go to the park, even when I’m tired. Sitting in the garden with my wife while the kids make potions out of grass and rainwater. Spending money where it matters… and not sweating the rest.

Because kids don’t need an itinerary. They just need time. And the best of it isn’t about grand plans — it’s about being present.
And yes, that includes how we spend money too.
This summer, I’m not budgeting every pound or tracking every snack. But I am trying to be conscious. Here’s what that looks like for us:
Saying yes to the odd ice cream van visit without second-guessing it
Planning one or two bigger things we’ll actually enjoy, not just booking stuff because everyone else is
Accepting that some weeks will cost more than others, and that’s OK
Sticking to our values, not a rigid budget
I’m asking: does this add something real to our time together, or is it just noise?
Because when September comes, I don’t want to feel like we just survived another expensive blur. I want to feel like we lived a bit.

A Final Thought
It’s not about planning the perfect summer. It’s about choosing to be present — in whatever way that’s possible right now.
It’s about letting go of the pressure to do it all, and giving yourself permission to do what matters most. To feel good in the moment. To feel calm when you look back.
If any of this has resonated — if you’re feeling the weight of another year gone and wondering how to make the next one feel more intentional — this is exactly the kind of space I create with my clients.
Coaching isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about making time to ask the right questions.
If you’d like to talk through what this might look like for you, you can book a free Q&A call here, or learn more about coaching here.
No pressure. Just a conversation about where you are, what you want, and how your money can support that.
Written by Vignesh Sivagnanam — a UK-based money coach helping high earners use their income to create a life that actually feels good.




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