At first, the thought of holidaying without kids sounded like a terrible betrayal to me. How could I have fun, when my little ones “struggled” without me? It didn’t occur to me even once, that they actually might “flourish” instead! Okay, that’s an overstatement. But they did do well. I’m sure it had something to do with the care we left them in, but I like to believe it also had something to do with the way we did it.
Everybody likes to take a holiday… and our kids do too. It’s an event that begins when we start discussing where to go. The kids pack bags from that moment on, and repack daily, until it’s time to actually leave. So when we tell them that Dad and Mum are going on holiday without them, reactions range from disappointment to cheering-until-realisation-dawns that -it’s “without” them.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. I’m happy to wash hair that has a lollipop stuck into it, can organise a mud party at my home and will babysit twenty friends if it makes my child happy. And I’m not just throwing a compliment into the air; I did that just last week.
But there is something very deliciously decadent about a holiday without kids. And I plead in favour of it.
In my mind, Priority One is support. Is there someone totally reliable that I can trust to keep my kids safe and happy (I’ve learnt not to care for ‘clean’ and ‘proper’)? I can always cut green-black nails when I return, and shampoo dread-locked hair. If ‘yes’, grab your passport and run.
I’m joking. If ‘yes’… tell the kids. And don’t leave it till the day of departure. I believe in slow prep. Detailing the trip seems to help my kids understand why we want to do this minus them. I tell them how much I will enjoy packing for one person, going for a massage, not watching Jake And The Neverland Pirates, and not worrying about the timing of every meal; how I want to hear the sound of silence, and lie in bed without taking breakfast orders. Often they’ll laugh and realise that mum’s desires are pretty un-epic.
Also, packing after they’re asleep and planning getaways on weekends (when they’ll be happy to just lounge around) helps.
I’ll have to add, there’s comfort in numbers. I would probably never have gone on holiday if I had a single child. That, to me, is desertion. That said, it’s learning for all. Usually, the older one enjoys the responsibility of being the “adult” when mum and dad are out, and the younger ones enjoy the pampering. You can’t deny that having a parent out-of-home gives everyone a certain breath of fresh air. No schedules, few rules and lots of sweets… if you have grandparents in the mix.
For parents, once the guilt washes over your soul, you’ll realise it’s actually very free-ing. There’s a certain perspective that comes with being out of the rum-a-dum-dum of daily life, work and kids. I always return home with much more patience, more meaningful rules and a lot more love for the kids and my cooler half. I’m told, nothing makes kids happier than seeing mum and dad happy.
So parents, a couple of days a year, if that’s all you can take. Single parents, no exception; you need itmore than anyone else. So, grab some buds… I mean friends, and take that trip. And if my kids like yourkids, I’ll babysit.
Twenty at a time please. Don’t all shout out at once.
