“Just come along. We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

A perfectly reasonable suggestion.

It’s Not That We Don’t Want To

I actually love the idea of spontaneity.

An impromptu dinner. A last-minute weekend away. Jumping in the car and seeing where the day takes us.

It sounds lovely.

But I’ve learnt there’s a difference between something sounding like a good idea and something actually working for our family.

Take going out for dinner.

Before we book, I’m usually online checking the menu. And if I’m not entirely sure, I’ll ring the restaurant.

Can they make something plain? Can they leave the sauce off? Is the chicken crumbed? Can we make a small change without causing an international incident?

Then there’s the environment. Is it noisy? Crowded? Will we be waiting ages for food?

I’m not looking for perfection. I’m just trying to give us the best chance of enjoying ourselves.

Because sometimes a little research is the difference between a lovely family dinner and an evening everyone would rather forget.

Holidays Require Their Own Planning Department

I love travelling. But booking a holiday involves considerably more than choosing somewhere nice to stay.

Before we’ve even packed a suitcase, I’ve researched restaurants, checked menus and worked out where the nearest supermarket is.

Not just whether there’s one in town, but how far it is from our accommodation. Because arriving somewhere unfamiliar, with hungry children and no suitable food, isn’t my idea of a relaxing start to a holiday.

We almost always book accommodation with a kitchen.

Not because I particularly enjoy cooking on holidays, but because it gives us options. We can eat out when it works and prepare something familiar when it doesn’t.

Even booking flights requires some strategic thinking.

What time will we need to leave home? How does the flight fit around medication? Will we be trying to navigate an airport at the exact time of day when everything becomes a little harder?

A cheaper flight isn’t necessarily the better flight if it throws the whole day out.

And then there are the smaller details. Travel times, activities, downtime and how much we can realistically fit into a day without everyone reaching their limit.

It probably sounds exhausting.

Sometimes it is.

But here’s the thing: the planning is what allows us to relax once we’re there.

And when we’re sitting somewhere beautiful, enjoying ourselves as a family, I don’t particularly care that it took me three evenings and a spreadsheet to make it happen.

The Problem With ‘We’ll See How We Go’

One thing I’ve learnt about my son is that uncertainty can be harder to manage than the event itself.

It’s not necessarily the birthday party, family gathering or outing that’s difficult.

It’s not knowing what to expect.

Who’s going? What will happen? How long will we stay? What if something changes?

So we talk things through beforehand. Sometimes we look at photos. Sometimes we discuss what he can do if things feel overwhelming.

And sometimes, despite all that preparation, things still don’t go to plan.

Because life happens.

But what looks like overplanning to someone else can actually be what makes participation possible.

And that’s something I wish more people understood.

When Being Prepared Gets Mistaken for Being Difficult

I think this is one of the more frustrating parts. Not the planning itself. I’ve become reasonably good at that. It’s how easily it can be misunderstood. Ask what time something finishes, and it sounds like you’re trying to rush everyone. Ask who’s coming, and it sounds like you’re being selective. Ask about food, and suddenly you’re the fussy family. Leave an event early, and someone inevitably says, “But he’s having such a good time!”

And he probably is.

That’s the thing.

Enjoying something and finding it exhausting aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes leaving while things are still going well is exactly what allows the experience to remain a positive one.

I don’t expect everyone to understand that instinctively. Before becoming a parent, I probably wouldn’t have either.

But I do wish people were a little less quick to interpret questions as objections.

Sometimes the questions aren’t objections. They’re simply how we get to yes.

But Surely They Need to Learn to Be Flexible?

Of course they do.

And I don’t believe the answer is to avoid every challenge or organise life so meticulously that nothing unexpected can happen.

Our children still need opportunities to try new things, manage disappointment and discover what they’re capable of.

But there’s a difference between helping a child develop flexibility and expecting them to demonstrate it before they’ve developed the skills to manage it.

For my son, the goal isn’t to create a world where everything goes exactly as planned.

It’s to help him feel secure enough to manage the times when it doesn’t.

And sometimes that means giving him more information beforehand, not less.

I’m learning too.

Because when you spend so much time anticipating potential problems, it’s very easy to start anticipating all the problems.

Including the ones that never happen.

I’ve researched restaurants, checked menus, read reviews and mentally rehearsed every possible scenario, only for my son to have a wonderful time and wonder what all the fuss was about.

Meanwhile, I’ve practically completed a risk assessment for a bowl of pasta.

I’m still finding the balance between preparing him for success and leaving room for the unexpected.

Because I don’t want our family life to become smaller in an effort to make it easier.

I want us to have adventures, try new things and make memories.

Just perhaps with a little more preparation than most.

Maybe We’ve Got Spontaneity All Wrong

We tend to think of spontaneity as something positive.

Being easygoing. Adventurous. Fun.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But somewhere along the way, we’ve started treating the ability to go with the flow as though it’s a measure of how relaxed or capable someone is.

I’m not convinced.

If researching a restaurant means we can enjoy dinner together, does it matter that I looked at the menu three days earlier?

If booking accommodation with a kitchen means everyone gets to relax, is that really such a terrible compromise?

If explaining the plan beforehand helps my son feel confident enough to participate, why should that be seen as a limitation?

I’ve learnt there’s no prize for making an experience unnecessarily difficult.

We can have a wonderful holiday without eating out every night.

We can enjoy a birthday party without staying until the end.

We can be adventurous without being completely unprepared.

And we can help our children become more flexible without expecting them to do it all at once.

These days, I don’t measure a successful outing by how closely it resembles someone else’s.

I measure it by whether we enjoyed ourselves, whether we felt comfortable enough to be there and whether we’d like to do it again.

So when someone says, “Just go with the flow,” I know they usually mean well.

And who knows? Maybe one day we’ll become one of those families who jump in the car with absolutely no plan and see where we end up.

But for now, I’ll probably check the menu first.

And I’m perfectly happy with that.