I never thought I’d be that parent—the one who tears up at the airport gate, heart heavy with guilt and excitement all at once. But there I was, passport in hand, waving goodbye to my little ones while trying not to look back too many times. This was it. Our first trip without the kids.
It wasn’t an easy decision. For years, every family vacation included car seats, diaper bags, and snacks packed in sandwich bags. We loved it, we really did. But after months of nonstop parenting, we realized we needed time—not just as mom and dad, but as a couple. And so, we booked a four-day getaway. Just the two of us.
Preparing to Leave
The days leading up to the trip were a whirlwind. Lists upon lists: emergency contacts, bedtime routines, allergy notes, favorite toys. The kids would be staying with their grandparents, who, thankfully, were thrilled to have some quality time with them. But still, I worried. Would they miss us? Would they eat well? Would bedtime turn into chaos?
Our suitcase was a funny sight—half filled with travel clothes and the other half with notes, gifts, and surprise drawings we made for the kids to open each day we were gone. It made us feel a little better, like we were still there in spirit.
The Airport Feels
As we walked through the airport, everything felt surreal. It was so…quiet. No one was tugging at my leg or asking for snacks. We had time to get coffee, browse bookstores, and even sit in silence without being interrupted. I felt a pang of guilt enjoying that peace.
But soon, excitement took over. We were heading to a cozy little coastal town for some well-earned rest, fresh air, and uninterrupted sleep. We promised ourselves: no guilt, no parent talk for at least the first night. (Spoiler: we failed at that almost immediately.)
Relearning How to Travel
Once we arrived, it was like learning how to travel all over again. For the first time in ages, we weren’t planning our day around nap times or picky eaters. We slept in—until 8:30! We took long walks on the beach. We lingered over breakfast, drank hot coffee, and actually finished sentences.
The little things felt so luxurious. Holding hands while walking without one hand pushing a stroller. Taking a spontaneous detour to a local market. Sharing a bottle of wine at dinner, just because we could.
The Guilt and the Joy
There were moments when the guilt crept in. A text from my mom saying the kids missed us. A photo of them in pajamas, waving goodnight. I’d feel a lump in my throat, wondering if we had made a mistake.
But then I’d look around. At the waves crashing. At my partner, laughing at something silly. At myself—remembering who I was outside of parenting. And I knew this trip mattered. It wasn’t selfish. It was a way to recharge so we could come back better, stronger, more present.
Unexpected Adventures
One of the highlights of the trip was a sunrise hike to a lookout point. We hadn’t done anything like that in years. With no kids in tow, we packed light, moved fast, and reached the top just as the sun kissed the horizon. It was breathtaking.
We also discovered a tiny art gallery run by a retired couple who shared their life stories over tea. We laughed, learned, and left inspired. It reminded us of how much beauty there is in the world waiting to be discovered—and how refreshing it was to experience it as a couple.
Connecting as Partners
The trip gave us something we didn’t even realize we needed: space to just be together. Without the constant responsibilities of parenting, we had conversations that went deeper than the usual logistics of family life.
We talked about our dreams, our fears, the future. We laughed at old memories. We even danced under the stars one night, music playing from a stranger’s phone nearby. It was spontaneous, cheesy, and perfect.
We remembered what it felt like to be just us. And in doing so, we strengthened the foundation that holds our family together.
Missing Them, Always
Of course, we missed them. We missed their little voices, their cuddles, their curious questions. By the last day, we were counting the hours until we could hug them again. But we also felt proud. Proud that we gave ourselves this time. Proud that we had trusted our support system. And proud that we could return to our kids feeling renewed.
We brought back small gifts, seashells we collected, and stories to tell. But the best souvenir was a sense of clarity and calm we hadn’t felt in a long time.
Coming Home
When we finally walked through the door, the kids ran into our arms like we’d been gone for months. There were tears (from all of us), lots of stories to exchange, and the sweetest reunion ever. They had been fine. More than fine. They had fun, made memories with their grandparents, and grew a little more independent in our absence.
We realized then: it’s okay to step away. It doesn’t mean we love them any less. It means we care enough to make sure we’re our best selves for them.
Final Thoughts
This vlog isn’t just about a trip. It’s about something bigger. It’s about the courage it takes to let go, even just for a little while. It’s about trusting that everything will be okay. And it’s about finding joy in being both a parent and a person.
So, to all the parents out there who are afraid to take that first step away: it’s okay to miss them. It’s okay to cry. But it’s also okay to laugh, to relax, and to enjoy yourselves.
Because when you come back, your heart will be even fuller than before.
Thanks for watching. See you in the next one.
