Three nights away
On partnership, resetting, and cultural expectations
I woke up to the sound of crashing waves, like a quiet line you’d read in a book. The crisp, fresh covers let me sink in without urgency. The choice was mine: enjoy coffee in the quiet of the room, take in the ocean view, or stretch into a quick yoga routine. Such a contrast from mornings at home - prepping, nudging, and negotiating every step to the doorway (if you have a toddler - you know…). I felt a small tug of missing my kids, but I also knew I needed this break. We needed it.
24 hours earlier
My one-year-old is screaming in the car; he's tired of the ride and cannot be comforted. My 3-year-old is getting agitated in response. The drive back from Long Island into the city feels endless, and by the time we arrive home, we’re all wrung out. It was a lovely, packed family trip - but as the saying goes, with little ones, it’s travel, not vacation.
The very next morning, mom guilt surfaces with every pre-airport coffee sip. But I stay committed. I’m leaving for a three-night trip with my husband - our first time away together since the baby was born a year ago. His excitement is through the roof, and while I’m happy too, I carry the worry alongside it.
Finishing a book in three days (not three weeks)
I leaned into the things I can’t do at home: staying in bed until I felt like starting the day, watching a movie in the middle of the day, slipping into the pool at 6 p.m. - the very hour that usually means peak chaos and dinner demands. The freedom itself felt restorative. My husband likes to turn to tech - all the wearable gadgets that tell him his energy levels have been “restored and optimized.” I turn inward. I know I’ve truly rested when I can stop constantly checking on the kids, and at home I can bring more patience and creative playfulness to the inevitable tantrums.
Our days are dense with the small, relentless needs of young children. The pace is constant, the interruptions inevitable. Conversations shrink into short bursts and sometimes trail off altogether. We try to pick them up again later in the evening, when the kids are finally in bed, but it never feels the same as sharing them in full, with energy and ease.
I appreciate routine because it signals that everyone is okay, just moving through their lives and business. I love that stability, but it can also slip into something repetitive, something that starts to feel flat. Add the noise, the daily worries, and it can easily become draining. We tend to our hobbies and carve out bits of space where we can, but when the rare opportunity presented itself, we went for it: three nights together, away from the kids.
Resetting as partners
In retrospect, the undercurrents of monotony and strain were there; we needed the space to reconnect as a couple. It’s easy to slip into being teammates when life revolves around small children. Date nights and quick escapes help, but there’s nothing quite like leaving the routine entirely - changing your surroundings, your pace, and your mindset together.
Even three days can be enough to shift you back into seeing each other as partners first, not just co‑parents, and to remember why you chose each other in the first place. Having fun together, and returning to that space of being yourselves - individually and as a couple, before parenthood took over front and center - feels vital.
The unexpected gift of family support
The reason this trip even happened was opportunity. Family flew in and offered to stay with the kids while we went on our getaway. When your relatives live oceans away, those chances seldom come. That stroke of luck gave us the freedom to step out together, a gift we don’t take for granted.
Family support is more important than I thought. My mother, who comes from a strict background and, in many ways, raised me with those values, was the first to encourage me to take this trip. She saw me off with a smile, while urging me to disconnect and enjoy myself. Her daily texts of reassurance (“Everything is great over here, enjoy your time away!”) helped me relax and recharge. That experience also highlighted how much cultural context shapes our choices, and how rarely permission to step away is modeled. Every parent struggles to balance intimacy with responsibility, but it often goes unspoken, which is why having support matters so much.
Culture and expectations
When you’re fully immersed in your own culture, you stop questioning its unspoken rules. Where I come from, leaving your children with anyone other than a parent is judged. Maybe not openly, but through quiet disapproval in the form of questions like “but aren’t you worried he’s going to regress..?”.
Stepping away from that environment made it clear to me how much couples struggle under the unrealistic expectation that parents should spend nearly all their time with their kids, especially in the early years (often while raising more than one child). The parents’ relationship is rarely factored into the equation, and before long, they’re exhausted and growing worlds apart.
This time away reminded me: partnership matters. It’s the foundation that supports everything else - family, parenting, everyone’s joy. It recharges us and gives us what we need to show up as better parents. It creates space for connection, for individuality, and for the mental quiet your adult brain craves. And thankfully, the kids were more than fine - happy, even - with their grandma, the ice cream, and the extra softness only someone free of daily discipline can give.
What we model for our kids
In the end, I keep coming back to the idea of modeling. Our children learn not only from the routines we set, but from the love we show each other. Choosing time together is part of choosing family. If you ever get the chance to step away, even for a short while - take it. It’s not indulgence, it’s a reminder of what holds everything else together.
Such an interesting point you bring up about cultural expectations. Living in the US, I don’t see that many parents being able to do this as often, or it being culturally as common. In southern Europe where I am originally from, I believe this to be more accepted. We are fortunate that both sets of grandparents have stepped in and allowed us to go on short trips at least once a year, and I agree with you on how important rebuilding that foundation with your partner is. Glad you got to get away and reset! I always find myself over the moon excited to get back home to the boys.