What Four Nights Apart Taught Me

Last weekend, my husband took our 2.5-year-old to LA for a long weekend. Just the two of them, an adventure of planes, palm trees, and sunshine. He was missing the West Coast, while I refused to put my ever-moving 15 month old on a six hour flight. It was the first time I’d been away from Pippa for more than a night or two. Four nights. That’s all. And yet, it felt huge. The funniest part of this whole thing was that the trip was my idea. I wanted to be the chill, fun mom…. “sure, go to California, bring Pippa.” I said it six weeks ago, and before I knew it I was packing her backs like she was headed off to college.

At first, the quiet was startling. Without her little voice narrating every moment of the day, the house felt bigger, emptier. But there was also space, literal and mental, that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

I spent those four days with Crew, our 15-month-old, just the two of us. We slipped into an easy rhythm I didn’t even know we were missing. I noticed the way he babbles when it’s just us, how he is way sillier than I realized, how he toddles after me with a grin so wide it tips him over. Having that one-on-one time felt like a gift, rare in this season where my attention is so often divided.

I also learned it’s okay to enjoy the break. Missing my daughter and appreciating the slower pace can exist side by side. I didn’t feel guilty about the quieter mornings, or the fact that I could think clearly without constant interruptions. Resting doesn’t diminish my love for her, in some ways, it makes me appreciate it more.

And here’s what struck me most: even at 2.5, she’s building her own sense of independence. She had her dad, new surroundings, and a routine that didn’t involve me, and as sad as that made me- she was okay. More than okay. She was thriving. I realized that a little space, even at this age, can be healthy for both of us.

I won’t lie, I took to ChatGPT once or twice asking, “Will my toddler forget me?” Surprise, Chat said, “no way, girl.”

When they came home, she felt taller, chattier, somehow older. Our reunion was sweet in the way only a few days apart can make it. There was this sense of joy of being together again.

Motherhood, I’m learning, is made up of these small but significant moments of holding on and letting go. And sometimes, letting go, even for just four nights, makes the holding on that much sweeter.