Every time I prepare for a getaway from my kids, a wave of anxiety washes over me. It’s not the typical fears of flight delays or catching a cold in a new city. Instead, I dread what awaits me upon my return. (Hint: It’s a messy house that reeks of sweaty socks, greasy takeout, and who knows what else.)
I should be grateful for the chance to enjoy a little break, right? I get that. Believe me, when I’m away from home and the kids, I make the most of my time. I become the life of any girls’ night out; as soon as thoughts of returning home creep in, I simply order another drink.
In the days leading up to my departure, I’m a whirlwind of activity—cleaning, organizing, and creating lists: “Here’s the contact for the pediatrician if the rash flares up! Don’t forget the ointment for her elbow!” I stock the pantry and fridge with pre-made meals that require zero effort, knowing that whatever my family eats while I’m gone will undoubtedly become my problem when I return.
I rearrange the pantry so that healthy snacks are within reach of tiny hands, label cups with names, and buy apples—knowing full well they’ll probably go uneaten. Why do I expend so much energy on this, only to know that chaos will reign the moment I step out the door? It’s a futile effort, akin to convincing my family to enjoy kale.
I do all this in hopes of making my return smoother, but let’s be honest: as soon as I leave, my partner will likely zone out in front of an old movie while the kids have a free-for-all, turning the house into a scene from a disaster film. I can’t help but imagine them having an absolute blast—messing around, wrestling, and throwing things they shouldn’t.
As I sip cocktails with friends, I try not to dwell on the fact that the carpet I just vacuumed will soon be littered with snack crumbs. I remind myself that my laundry situation is not my concern until I return—at least for now.
And the socks? Oh, the socks will be a total mess. My socks will somehow end up in my partner’s drawer, while my daughter’s socks will be lost in the abyss of my own. The sock-washing struggle is real, and seemingly insurmountable for many.
While I relish the peace and quiet of being away, I do find myself missing my family. I’m not entirely heartless, after all.
When I return, my family greets me in pajamas—possibly the same ones they wore when I left. They look a bit wild, as if they’ve been through a whirlwind. Everything is sticky, and I discover strange things under the beds—like spatulas. There are Cheerios dusting the pillows, butter hidden in cabinets, and Barbie dolls in the dryer. I might even find a kid or two hanging around as if they think they belong here.
Re-entry is a real challenge. I’ve concluded that the key is to enjoy my time away as much as possible. That way, when I’m on my hands and knees searching for my daughter’s lost lovey, I can honestly say to my friend, “That was totally worth it.” Immediately followed by, “When can we plan our next trip?”
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Summary
Navigating the chaos of family life while trying to enjoy a brief escape can be challenging. Despite the pre-departure preparations, the messy reality upon returning can be overwhelming. Yet, embracing the fun while away makes the re-entry process a little easier.
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