There are no spontaneous road trips, no loosely planned beach days, no “we’ll figure it out when we get there” adventures. Instead, summer in our family is something we design with intention. It is structured, but not rigid. It is flexible, but not chaotic. Most importantly, it is inclusive in a way that focuses on every member of the family, not just the individual with exceptionalities, not just the siblings, and not just the adults trying to hold it all together. We consider everyone. My niece’s younger sister, now 13, has grown up understanding that “fun” does not have one definition in our home. She knows something equally important. She is not an afterthought in this experience, her joy matters too. Over the years, we’ve learned that the most meaningful summers are not built on perfection. They are built on access, rest, and shared joy.
Redefining What “Summer Fun” Means
For many families, summer fun is tied to travel, novelty, and constant activity. For families like ours, those expectations can quickly become barriers. We had to ask ourselves a different question. “What if fun is not about doing more, but about doing what works for everyone?” For us, the answer often is beach vacations in accessible rental homes. Not because they are luxurious, but because they are functional in a way that protects joy. Elevators, accessible bathrooms, kitchens for familiar meals, and proximity to the beach allow us to participate in experiences without sacrificing dignity or energy. We are intentional about location because it determines everything else. When the environment works for my niece, it works for all of us. But accessibility is only one piece.
Building in Rest so Joy Can Actually Exist
One of the most overlooked elements in family travel, especially for families managing intensive care needs, is caregiver exhaustion. If the adults are depleted, no one experiences joy fully. We do something very deliberate. We schedule relief, not only “if we have time,” but built-in time where parents and siblings are not in caregiving roles. Sometimes that means a hired support worker. Sometimes it means staggered rest times, where one adult is fully off-duty while others engage with my niece. Sometimes it is as simple as quiet mornings where routines are predictable and calm, or it can be simple tasks like taking over feeding schedules and caring for others, while the caregivers sleep in or venture off for a quiet meal. Sometimes it is letting go of guilt because the goal is not maximizing every moment, but sustaining the whole family across days and weeks.
Making Inclusion Practical, Not Performative
Inclusion is often discussed in educational spaces, but families live it every day. In real life, inclusion is not abstract; it is logistical. It means:
- planning sensory-friendly activities
- choosing environments with predictable routines
- building in downtime without apology
- ensuring siblings have identity and autonomy outside of caregiving roles
- redefining “milestones” as shared experiences, not Instagram moments
My niece may not engage in typical vacation activities, but she is fully part of the experience. Her presence shapes the rhythm of our days, not in limitation, but in structure. Her sister and cousins have learned something powerful. The process of inclusion is not about equal activity, it is about equal belonging and pure selflessness.
When Resources Are Limited
Not every family has access to rental homes, respite care, or extended support systems. I do not take our access for granted. But. meaningful summer experiences do not require money. They require redefinition and creativity. Sometimes our most grounding moments are not vacations at all. They are intentional days at home where we treat the ordinary differently. A backyard becomes a sensory space. A local park becomes a scheduled outing instead of a rushed stop. A movie night becomes a family ritual with predictable comfort. What matters most is not the scale of the experience, but the predictability, emotional safety, and shared participation.
A Whole-Family Approach
What I’ve learned both personally and professionally is that families thrive when they stop designing experiences around a single child, but design for the ecosystem of the family. That means:
- honoring the needs of the child with exceptionalities
- protecting sibling identity and joy
- supporting caregiver sustainability
- and allowing “fun” to be flexible, not fixed
No one should have to disappear for another person to belong.
If I could leave parents with one thought, it would be that your summer does not have to look like anyone else’s to be meaningful. When our family stopped chasing an external definition of “fun” and started building experiences around our actual family needs, something shifted. We did not lose joy; we gained it in forms we could sustain. Perhaps the most important lesson of all is that fun is not a destination, it is something we design together with intention and care.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Dr. Allison N. Oliver is an assistant professor of special education at Austin Peay State University and the author of The Behavior Blueprint: Practical Strategies for Today’s Practitioners. Her work centers on inclusive practices, evidence-based instruction, and practical strategies that support educators and families in meeting the needs of learners with exceptionalities. She is committed to bridging research and practice in ways that are accessible, realistic, and grounded in the realities of today’s classrooms and homes. Dr. Oliver’s scholarship and teaching emphasize practical application, supporting both preservice and in-service educators as they develop confidence and skill in serving diverse learners. Her work reflects a deep commitment to equity, sustainability, and meaningful inclusion in education.
Read the article here.