Apply sunscreen
Sunscreen has to go on before the outing, but it usually gets squeezed into the worst minute of the morning – the bag still being packed, someone already in their shoes by the door. The visual support below makes room for it.
♂Squeezing sunscreen on face
A boy squeezes sunscreen onto his cheek with a finger from a tube.
♂Rubbing sunscreen on face
A boy rubs sunscreen onto his cheek with his hand.
♂Boy with sunscreen on
A boy with white sunscreen visible on his face and arms, holding a tube of sunscreen.
♀Applying sunscreen to face
A girl with a ponytail applies sunscreen to her cheek with her hand and holds a tube of sunscreen.
♀Applying sunscreen to face
A girl with long hair applies sunscreen to her cheek with her hand and holds a tube of sunscreen.
♀Applying sunscreen to face from hand
A girl applies sunscreen to her cheek with her hand, holding a blob of sunscreen in her other hand.
About this visual support
Sunscreen has a double problem. The stickiness itself is unpleasant on the skin, the scent is strong and lingers, and the whole step happens under time pressure – everyone else is ready, the beach toys need to go in the car, someone is calling that we have to leave now. It's the combination that turns sunscreen into the meltdown by the shore rather than the start of a good day.
When the visual schedule shows where the cream goes – forehead, cheeks, ears, shoulders, front, back – it stops being unstructured rubbing and becomes a list that ends. Seeing the end is often what lets the child begin, because there's a promise: when all the pictures are checked off, this part is over and the swim can start.
One concrete tip: start the cream fifteen minutes before you actually need to leave, at the breakfast table or on the bathroom mat, rather than at the front door. The time pressure falls away and the cream has time to sink in before clothes go back on. If you'd like the whole summer morning laid out as a visible order on your phone, you can try Routined free for fourteen days.