'My mum friends whispered their summer plans like secrets. Then I realised what we were doing.'

When the first of my mum friends confessed her plans, she whispered it like it was a guilty secret.

"I've asked my boss for the whole of February off," she said, as we watched our older kids play soccer. "I know I'll have more time once Jordy starts school, but I just want to be available if he needs me."

Over the next few weeks, I noticed a pattern.

Another friend, a nurse, told me she was taking annual leave for all of January and refusing overtime in February.

A third friend, who works at a supermarket, is cutting her hours in half for the first quarter of next year.

Watch: The parenting time-saving hacks you can try. Post continues after video.

And then there's me. Last week, I emailed my subscribers explaining that I'll be "drastically reducing" my hours from late November to February. My husband, who works in the government, is taking long service leave so we can travel as a family for two months.

What do we all have in common?

We all have children starting school in February 2026 — the last of the 'COVID babies', the ones born in lockdown, now stepping into full-time education. And parents like me, who endured isolated pregnancies and chaotic toddlerhoods, are gifting ourselves a belated babymoon — or a 'Kindymoon', as I'm dubbing it.

Frances Bilbao, a clinical psychologist based in Melbourne and founder of Mums Matter Psychology, has noticed the same trend. She calls it a "cultural correction."

"After years of burnout and the pandemic, parents — especially millennial mums — are realising that being present matters more than performing," says Bilbao. "The Kindymoon reflects a shift from doing it all to just being there — for your child and for yourself."

Research backs this up. A 2024 review of 61 studies, published in the Early Child Education Journal, found that parents' emotions during the school-start transition — from pride to grief — are universal and often overlooked.

"A Kindymoon gives families a chance to process that change together, instead of being swept up in the rush of logistics and work," Bilbao adds.

But taking a break doesn't come easy for high-achieving mums. This is my third child, my youngest, and the unspoken message when your kid starts school is: Now you have all this time to work.

The expectation? You kick your cherub out of the car on day one and sprint onto a Zoom call, exhilarated at the free time you have for the hustle. 

The reality? Yes, it's nice to have some space from being their snack b*tch, but you're still very much a parent — and bouncing back into 'boss mode' might not feel feasible.   

Even my partner — a very hands-on dad — falls into this trap.

"When all the kids are in school, you'll have so much time," he says, underestimating the squeeze of trying to fit a full-time job into school-bell hours — not to mention the emotional first aid, the lunchboxes, and the endless after-school activities.

Four years ago, when my oldest daughter started school, I put her on the school bus after three weeks, because it gave me an extra 15 minutes to hit my deadlines. It worked for her personality and my career ambitions at the time.

Two kids later, I'm taking the opposite approach — and taking my foot off the accelerator.

The Kindymoon is a rebellion against the expectation that we must 'bounce back' into full-time employment once our kids enter the education system. It's also a way to honour our COVID kids — and the special bond we formed with them behind closed borders.

I love all my kids, but my COVID baby is … different. Not because of who she is, but because of who I became during that pregnancy.

Unlike many COVID mums, I didn't spend lockdown baking banana bread. When the virus hit, I joined the government's COVID taskforce — a role I loved, but one that ended in complete burnout. (Who knew working 24/7 while nursing a newborn wasn't sustainable?)

That's very on-brand for me: I barely took maternity leave with any of my babies. But something about that period changed me. The pandemic made me immune to my own workaholism.

These days, I still love my job, but I fiercely protect my mum-time. My COVID baby is a constant reminder of what we went through — what we all went through — and that's worth honouring.

This isn't about wrapping our COVID kids in cotton wool. In fact, my third is the toughest, most spirited of the bunch. The Kindymoon is really for us, the grown-ups — a chance to breathe, to feel, and to answer the calls from school if someone just needs to hear our voice.

Bilbao agrees that it's often the parents of school starters who struggle more than the kids.

"Interestingly, it's often the parents who experience separation distress," she says. 

"It typically takes around a year to fully 'tune in' to how their child feels about school. That lag makes sense when your own emotions like pride, nostalgia, and anxiety are stirred up by such a big milestone."

My Kindymoon started gradually — cutting my daughter's childcare days from four to two for the rest of the year. Our plans are simple: babycino dates, collecting seaglass on the beach, and just being together before the next chapter.

The 'kindymoon' is a new parenting trend for COVID babies. Image: Supplied.

I know I'm privileged to have the flexibility to take a 'school starter sabbatical'. But even if you can't cut your hours, you can still create space and ritualise the milestone.

"Rituals give structure to emotion," says Bilbao. "Instead of focusing on what's being lost — 'my baby's growing up' — celebrate growth. Make a scrapbook, write a first-day letter, take a family photo, or walk to school together."

"These small, meaningful acts tell your child: this is an adventure we're sharing, not a separation to fear."

And if you meet a mum whose COVID baby is starting school, please don't ask if she's going back to work. A better question? "How are you feeling about it?"

Amy Molloy is the author of Wise Child. Follow her on Instagram @amy_molloy.

Read more about parenting from Amy:

• 'When I saw my 6-year-old's journal entry, it changed how I parent forever.'

• 'After motherhood, my sexual identity changed. Nothing prepared me for it.'

• "We will never get this time back": The grief of raising a baby in 'Fortress Australia'.

Feature image: Supplied.