Surviving a week of school closures without losing your mind
Working mums in Sydney, Melbourne, or Brisbane know that "school closure" can mean anything from a one-day teacher strike to a full week of pupil-free days that pop up on the calendar with zero warning. Add in the unpredictability of Australian summer heat — sometimes January throws us a 42-degree day when the aircon at school is on the blink — and suddenly you're juggling client calls while negotiating with a six-year-old about why toast cannot be lunch.
This guide is built for parents who still need to hit deadlines, run meetings, and keep the household running. Nothing here requires a Pinterest-perfect craft cupboard or a full week off work. Just practical, sanity-saving strategies that work in real Australian homes with real Australian chaos.
Plan the meals before the chaos hits
The biggest energy drain during school closures is not the kids — it is the constant question of "what's for lunch?" When you do not have a plan, you end up driving to Woolworths at 11am with two hungry children in the back seat, and that is when the day starts to unravel.
A two-week rotation built around five core ingredients (think mince, chicken thighs, eggs, pasta, and a tray of vegetables) will save you more brainpower than any productivity app. Cook once, eat twice — leftover bolognese becomes next-day toasted sandwiches, and Sunday's roast chook shreds into Wednesday's fried rice. If you want a done-for-you starting point, this simple rotation plan breaks it down shopping list and all.
Pre-chop veggies on Sunday, stash them in containers, and you will thank yourself on day three when everyone is hangry and you have a meeting in ten minutes. During closure weeks, pack snacks the same way you would for school: a box of crackers, some sliced cucumber, a few grapes, a tub of yoghurt. Kids who graze on familiar foods are calmer, and you avoid the 4pm meltdown because nobody ate real lunch.
Build a loose daily rhythm
Strict timetables fall apart by Tuesday of any closure week. What actually works is a rhythm — a few anchor points around which the day flexes rather than breaks. Pick three non-negotiables. For most families, these are morning screen-free time, an outdoor block, and a quiet afternoon wind-down. Everything else slots in around these anchors.
Use your local council library. Brisbane, Sydney, and Melbourne libraries all run free holiday programs with storytelling, Lego clubs, and activities that do not cost a cent. Many offer cool, air-conditioned spaces during the worst of the summer heat, which is honestly half the appeal for parents in western Sydney or the inner north of Melbourne trying to keep small bodies from overheating.
Build in a daily "yes" hour. One hour where you are fully present — playing a board game, building a fort out of cushions, reading together — buys you several hours of independent play afterwards. Kids who feel seen are far more willing to potter on their own, which means you get to finish that email without a small person climbing your leg.
Stock the craft drawer beforehand
The crafts everyone posts on social media can stay on the platform. You do not need air-dry clay and a dedicated craft table. You need a shoebox and a few minutes on a quiet weekend.
Fill that box with the stuff that already lives in your house: paddle pop sticks, sticky tape, a few markers, old magazines, and some sheets of coloured paper from Officeworks. Add a roll of butcher's paper from Bunnings — the four-metre roll costs a few dollars and unrolls across the kitchen floor for instant mural territory. Rotating what is in the box matters more than what is in it. Swap five items on Sunday night and suddenly the same old bits feel new again. A glue stick that felt boring on Tuesday becomes a thrilling tool on Thursday.
Outdoor water play is your friend. A bucket, a small watering can, and a patch of grass keep kids occupied for shockingly long stretches. In a heatwave, set up a sprinkler on the lawn — it burns off energy and cools everyone down before lunch, and you can finally load the dishwasher in peace.
Embrace boredom and screen time guilt-free
We grew up hearing "go outside and play" from our own parents, and there is still truth in it. Boredom is where imagination lives. But pretending you can entertain a child for ten hours a day with wooden spoons and a cardboard box is a fast track to resentment. The trick is balance, not purity.
Set screen time rules by hour, not by minutes. From 1pm to 3pm is quiet time — that is when the tablet or TV goes on. Outside those hours, screens stay off. Kids learn the rhythm quickly, and you get a predictable break to send that work email or just sit down with a coffee.
Lean into audio. Australian kids' podcasts, audiobooks from the library app, and even old Bluey episodes on ABC iView give you twenty minutes of hands-free peace during phone calls. Read together every day, even if it is chaos. Strong-willed kids especially benefit from books that name the big feelings they are wrestling with. If you are looking for a few titles that genuinely helped my family, these picks are a good starting point. A picture book before dinner resets everyone's nervous system.
Protect your work hours like a pro
If you are working from home during closures, your laptop is competing with a child who has decided that today is the day they need constant entertainment. Boundary-setting matters more than ever. Communicate early with your manager — a quick email on Monday morning saying "heads up, school is closed this week, I may have thirty-minute gaps between calls" goes a long way.
Use the school-pickup energy pattern. Even when there is no school, structure your day around an imagined 3:15pm "home time" — that is when you switch off, make afternoon tea, and reset. The rhythm mimics the real routine, which helps working-from-home kids feel like life is normal rather than a long, unstructured void.
Block out deep work during quiet time. Even big kids benefit from a designated quiet hour. Set up beanbags, a few books, and a silent timer. If you can get one uninterrupted hour in the morning and another after lunch, you have covered most of your real work output without sacrificing the day.
Lower the bar and celebrate the wins
A school closure week is not the time to teach your child to read, potty train the toddler, or finally organise the pantry. The bar is on the floor. If everyone is fed, watered, and nobody is bleeding — that is a win. Text your mum group chat. Honestly, this is half the survival strategy. A "send help" message at 9am gets you three replies from Adelaide mums who are in the same boat. Solidarity is underrated and caffeine-fuelled.
Take five minutes for yourself. Every single day. Even if it is sitting in the laundry with a closed door, scrolling in silence. You cannot pour from an empty cup, and you cannot negotiate with a four-year-old on no sleep. A cup of tea, ten deep breaths, and a closed door buys you an entire afternoon of patience.
When the next closure week rolls around — and it will, because teachers' PD days, pupil-free days, and the occasional heat-related shutdown always sneak up on us — remember this: survival is the goal. Joy is a bonus. The days feel long, but the years are short, and somehow we all get through it. For more sanity-saving ideas, family-friendly recipes, and honest stories from working mums across Australia, swing by Mommylicious. We have got your back.
