Why Mondays are so hard, and what the weekend has to do with it

Monday is always a tough day. You know, after the weekend it’s probably more of an easy schedule for them, so you show up Monday morning and you’re like, okay, shoes and socks, and they’re already upset. And it’s the same for us, right? Nobody wants to go back to work on Monday. You had a relaxing weekend, you got to do what you like, and now it’s, what? I gotta get up early? I gotta do this?

So I get it. But with the children I work with it’s more intense.

I worked with a little girl a while back where Monday was always the hardest day of the week. The rest of the week we had a routine. First we do the work, then you get the thing you want. By Thursday she was flying through it. And then Monday would come and it’s like we were starting over. Crying, throwing things off the table, she didn’t want to hear anything.

And her family’s first idea was, oh, next weekend we’ll keep her busier. We’ll take her out more. And parents always have an idea like that. “Oh, I need to put her to bed earlier.” “Oh, we had people over.” And I mean, sure, maybe. That might help a little. But the main issue is not keeping them busy. It’s keeping consistent. The demands she faces with me during the week, she needs to be facing them on the weekend too. Otherwise of course she’s going to be mad at me on Monday. From her side, I’m the one who shows up and changes the rules.

Because the weekends for a lot of children are, you know, do whatever you want. Probably watch a lot of iPad. And then Monday comes, and somebody’s asking them to follow through on things again.

And I want to say, I really understand why the weekends go that way. When it’s your time as a parent, you’re also trying to cook. You’re trying to talk, work something out for the week. You’re trying to help the other child. You’re trying to clean the house or just take a break. Of course you give them the iPad. You need to get something done. And then they take advantage of it, and that’s just how it goes.

So part of what I try to do is give parents tools they can actually use. I love to teach children how to play independently, so that on the weekend Mom can set the timer while she’s in the kitchen and say, “come play,” and they play by themselves for a little while. That’s something a parent can do.

Parents tell me all the time, “I know I’m the problem.” And I’m like, it’s not just you. It’s all parents. But it’s that consistency.

And sometimes they say, “I’m just not good at it.” And I tell them, but you have to be good at it. You have to be. You’re the mom. You’re the dad. I say it nicely, but I mean it. If the only people placing demands are us, the therapists, and the teachers at school, then of course we’re the nasty ones. You’re the one they trust the most. So you’re actually the best person to be doing the hard stuff.

But consistent doesn’t mean you have to run your weekend like a school. That’s not realistic for anybody. What I tell parents now is, pick three. Pick three things that matter to you. Maybe it’s bedtime. Maybe it’s how much screen time. Maybe it’s what happens when they ask for a snack right before dinner, or they have to finish the thing before they get the thing. Pick three, and hold those three on Saturday and Sunday the same way they get held during the week. Everything else can flex.

And if three is too many right now, pick one. Just one. Hold it all weekend and see what Monday looks like.

I’m not going to pretend that fixes everything. Some Mondays are just hard. Some children are going through something else, maybe sleep, maybe something at school, maybe something that needs a doctor or a speech therapist or an OT to look at. Consistency doesn’t replace that. But I’ve been working with children since I was 17, in classrooms and now in ABA, and I’ve seen Mondays get easier when the weekend has a few things that don’t move. Not every time. But a lot.

And if Monday is still hard after a couple of weeks, that’s information too. Then we look somewhere else.

So, yeah. Pick three. That’s where I’d start.

The stories I share are put together from many children over many years, with details changed. None of them is about one child.