I Don’t Feel Guilty Leaving My Kids for a Weekend Away

I packed my bag, kissed the kids goodbye, and skipped out the door, not out of neglect, but necessity.

I was off for a weekend of no kids, no bedtime stories, and no reapplying sunscreen on wriggly bodies. We sat in lounge chairs, read books, drank bottomless cocktails, and didn’t check the time or see if anyone needed to eat to avoid a meltdown.

We were somewhere with a pool, a beach, and lots of other children enjoying themselves. At one point, watching a family play in the pool, I wondered if I should’ve felt guilty that I hadn’t brought my kids away with me to enjoy this experience, but I didn’t. I know what it would’ve been like if I brought them. I know those parents aren’t sleeping in tomorrow.

Parenting in a different location isn’t a holiday, and I needed a real break, not just a change of setting.

I love my kids, and I need time without them

I saw a meme recently that resonated deeply with me. It said: My two favourite things are being with my kids and being without my kids.

I totally agree. I love being with my kids. They’re fun and cute and bring out a very silly side of me. Parenting is a wild and wonderful experience. Kids are also an all-access pass to spending a day at a petting zoo or splash park, eating watermelon in your bathing suit.

But I also love spending time away from them, with my friends, my partner, or even by myself. I do it guilt-free.

You can’t spend all your time with your kids, or in my opinion, you shouldn’t. Adult-focused days that don’t revolve around keeping small people entertained and fed are key to maintaining your sense of self. A 30-minute jog or a sushi night out is great, but you deserve more than that. A full day, night, weekend, or longer if you can swing it, is what parents, moms in particular, need to connect with themselves. And more than that, we should be taking that time without feeling guilty, mom-guilt, or anything like it.

I intentionally don’t say I’ll miss them

I deserve time away. I’m thoughtful about it. I leave my kids with responsible caregivers who love them and keep them safe. I fill the fridge before I leave. I prep my kids before I go, telling them how excited I am for my weekend away, to spend time with my friends, play cards, and stay up late. I talk about all the fun things they’ll do while I’m away, and I explain that I can’t wait to swap stories when I’m back.

I don’t say I’m going to miss them; you shouldn’t lie to children.

I’m half joking.

I don’t say it because I want them to feel positive about the situation, and in no way do I want them to think I’m not 100% excited. I want to normalize parents prioritizing themselves and also make it something we all look forward to, as I have no doubt the movie choice and bedtimes are different when I’m not around.

I don’t want my kids to grow up thinking that I only have fun when we’re together or that I need to be there for them to enjoy themselves. Sooner or later, they’re going to be independent people, and I’d like to start prepping them not to need me, just as I’m preparing myself not to need them.

I’m a better parent when I come back

When I get home to them, I’m a better parent after getting a break. I do miss them, if only a little, and I have lots of highly edited stories to share from my time away. I bring them home a little trinket that they love for at least 48 hours.

Inevitably, as quickly as the trip came up, it’s a distant memory, and I’m thrown back into laundry, dishwasher emptying, and arguing about how many minutes we should be brushing teeth for. After 10 minutes of extra-long, sweet hugs, my kids are fighting with one another, and it’s like I never left.

I don’t feel guilty for spending time away from my kids. That time and space give me the freedom to remember my pre-parent self, the one my partner fell in love with, and the one my friends still tell stories about.

It is so important to stay connected to yourself, even as you age, your alcohol tolerance shrinks, and your bedtime creeps earlier. Having a day or two where you eat when you’re hungry, not when someone whines, and where the only hat you have to remember is your own, is the best thing for your creativity, your nervous system, and your soul. Also, holidays without kids are substantially less expensive than family holidays, do the math.

The best version of me isn’t the one who doesn’t get away, it’s the one who knows when to go.

If my kids ever wonder why I take time for myself, I know they’ll also see how much better I show up when I get back.