The new lunch boxes are ordered, class rosters are on their way, and the back-to-school haircuts are booked. And like clockwork, the cultural chorus salutes the return to routines.

But here’s my contrarian parent confession: I secretly wish summer would never end.

Too often, summer is seen as downtime before 'real life.' But for us, it’s as real as life gets.

This isn’t a critique of education. Our children attend a Catholic school we deeply trust. They are taught by teachers who live out the virtues they teach with a curriculum grounded in faith, character, and critical thinking. That kind of schooling is a blessing, but it’s also increasingly rare.

In many states, public schools today resemble social engineering experiments more than places of learning. Parents are often sidelined — if not pushed out entirely.

Still, even in the best schools, summer grants a freedom that’s hard to find the rest of the year — the freedom to let our kids learn through life, not just curriculum.

Learning outside the classroom

Summer brings boredom, and that is a glorious gift. Without constant scheduling, kids are forced to imagine. They build forts, tell stories, invent games, and watch a snail for three whole minutes. That kind of unhurried pace awakens creativity in a way no planned activity can match. And when days aren't packed from activity to activity, children learn the rhythm of reflection, rest, and real connection.

This year, my daughter spent her third summer at sleepaway camp. My son went away for the first time. They learned kayaking, pottery, survival skills, and, most importantly, a little independence.

Independence isn’t learned through lectures. It is cultivated through doing — managing a tent, getting mud on your shoes, and forging friendships under the sun.

Meanwhile, my wife and I curated our own two‑month formation plan: fishing, family prayers, vacation hikes, and teaching patience alongside some bug spray.

Office visits are another summer staple in our family. It’s one of the only times of year our kids get to see us work. They come with me to the studio, watching all the cameras turn on and interactions with my guests. They help my wife pick out decorations for her nonprofit’s next event. They see the planning, the problem-solving, the hustle, and most importantly, they see it up close.

For them, work isn’t some abstract idea of “what parents do all day.” It’s a living example of vocation and stewardship. We want them to understand that work isn’t something you escape from — it’s something you pour into with purpose.

Whether it's watching one of my podcast episodes materialize or popping up in the background of a Zoom meeting, they’re learning that faith, family, and calling aren’t siloed. They're integrated. And summer gives us the margin to demonstrate that firsthand.

These are the moments that shape character, not standardized tests.

A growing movement

Too often, summer is seen as downtime before “real life.” But for us, it’s as real as life gets.

I know many parents don’t enjoy such freedom. That’s why I'm also encouraged by the rise of what policymakers now call "parent‑directed education" (instead of “homeschooling”).

Across the U.S., more than 3.7 million students are now being educated at home, reflecting a profound shift in how families view schooling. Our home state of Florida — where my wife serves on the State Board of Education — leads the nation with the largest homeschooling population. Around 155,000 students are educated at home as of the 2022‑23 school year, adding nearly 70,000 learners since 2017.

RELATED: Want to homeschool? Read this first

  Photo by Jessica Lewis via Unsplash

Florida isn’t just the top state in numbers. It’s the conservative test bed for parent‑directed education. Thanks to voucher expansions under Gov. Ron DeSantis (R-Fla.), homeschoolers now receive state-funded education savings accounts alongside private and charter students. That public support recognizes a crucial truth: Parents — not bureaucrats — deserve the right to direct their children’s formation.

Forging family and future

Yes, summer ends. And yes, school matters, and we’ll rejoice when they go back — especially to a Catholic classroom that lives up to its calling. But I refuse to rush the last golden days with my kids. Summer’s lessons — for our family, for the future — are just different.

So no, I’m not racing back to the academic calendar. I’m squeezing every barefoot, sunlit, bored (in the best way) moment with the people God called me to raise.

Let them learn from campfires and daydreams, from sibling squabbles and midnight conversations. Because true learning — the kind grounded in freedom, faith, and family — doesn’t fit in a syllabus.

And at the heart of it all, what makes summer truly irreplaceable is us. Me. My wife. Our family. Present. Laughing. Slowing down long enough to notice who we’re becoming together.

That’s the education I’ll fight hardest to protect.