First Weekend Away Without Kids
8 December 2024
We have just returned from a wedding in the UAE without the kids. They stayed with their grandparents for three nights, and it was our first time spending more than 24 hours away from them.
This was a big step for our young family (our youngest was aged 21 months, the eldest 4-and-a-half years) and in the months leading up to it I probably maxed out at around 7 out of 10 on the anxiety scale. It’s one thing being away from your children when you’re just down the road, it’s quite another leaving the country.
My mind was swirling with intrusive thoughts: what if something happens to them? What if something happens to us?
Gradually, as the trip drew nearer those feelings scaled down as the practical preparations got underway. The wedding we were flying out to attend would consist of several events and - given I had not got myself glammed up in a very long time - I had plenty of outfits and accessories to buy, providing me with plenty of distraction from the less superficial aspects!
By the time we got on the plane, I was fairly matter of fact about it all. Once it was 100% certain we were going, it was just about getting on and making the most of this chance for some long overdue adult-only time.
Nevertheless, I expected to be an emotional wreck for at least some of the weekend… but in the end, I wasn’t. I thought we would receive updates from the grandparents about how the kids were crying at bedtime, missing mummy and daddy. We didn’t! It was all very much a non-event.
I should have expected this, given how much preparation we had put in. The kids spent several sleepovers at their grandparents’ during the months before, so that everyone could get accustomed to the sleeping arrangements, routines etc. We talked to the children about the trip openly and allowed them plenty of opportunity to express any feelings of worry or doubt.
At one stage I had considered hiding from the kids the fact that we were going abroad; I was concerned that the idea of us being that far away would exacerbate their anxieties, not to mention making them jealous! After talking it over with my partner, we decided honesty was the best policy (as it almost always is).
As it happens, I don’t think it made much difference to them where we were going, all that mattered was that we were going somewhere they were not. We needn’t have worried; while we were away they were kept occupied with lots of fun activities. Our packed schedule helped to distract me, too!
As we flew back to London I was feeling relieved. It felt like a milestone had been reached and we had now proven that this once nigh-impossible feat could be achieved, given the right support. We are very fortunate to have willing and able parents who live 20 minutes away, and who dote on our children endlessly.
What I was less prepared for, however, was how much I would struggle in the days after we got back. Two 7 hour flights and three wedding events in the space of 72 hours was a lot. Never mind having to switch into mummy-mode the second we got home, with the kids already back home and eagerly awaiting our return. While I was overjoyed to be reunited with my little loves, my body was crying out for a day to recover and rebalance.
The reality of coming home from such an intense trip was like being hit by a bus. All the preparation, excitement and anxiety was over, giving way to an overwhelming need for rest - but alas, the world doesn’t stop turning. We put our suitcases down, welcomed all the cuddles and got right on with the evening routine before it was back to school (and work) the following morning.
The next day, and even the one after that, I was totally exhausted. It seems really spoiled and ungrateful to have felt so jaded, after all we were so lucky to have been granted the luxury of a child-free break in the sun! It’s just that the after-effects caused the overall experience to be something quite different from the restorative break I’d had in mind.
That said, even with the benefit of hindsight I would not have done anything differently. We were very purposeful in choosing the amount of nights we’d spend away, balancing the need to do it ‘properly’ and enjoy ourselves, versus not stretching the children too far out of their comfort zones. The total wipe-out we experienced afterwards was just the price we had to pay. It’s like returning from a hen or a stag weekend and having to roll right back into work the next day, you just have to crack on.
We’ll probably do it again in a year or so when the children will be older; we’ll make it a weekend for just the two of us where we can actually have some quality ‘us’ time instead of a jam-packed whirlwind trip. In the meantime, we’ll enjoy our next few holidays with them in tow, with all the mess and stress that entails, comforted in the knowledge that doing it without them just doesn’t feel the same any more.
