Fifty Shades of Mommy Originally Published August 7, 2026 by Fifty Shades of Mommy
As parents, we are always saying we need a break. Especially with crazy lives like ours. When I’m not working my full-time job, my husband is running the bowling alley, and we’re running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to get each kid to their sports, appointments, etc.
We dream about sleeping in, eating a meal without interruptions, watching whatever we want on television, and going an entire day without hearing someone call our name from another room.
We imagine all the things we could accomplish if the house were quiet for more than five minutes.
Then the kids went to Grammie’s house for an entire week.
I absolutely LOVE my mother-in-law. I know I am very lucky to say that. She is the only person to ever watch my kids overnight and for an extended period of time.
The past couple of summers, she has taken all three kids up to her house. The first year it was a weekend, then an extended weekend, then five days, and this year she offered to take them for an entire week.
Over a weekend!
At first, I was excited. A whole week without schedules, arguments, meals to plan, messes to clean up, or constant noise sounded amazing.
I had plans.
I was going to be productive. I was going to clean, organize, catch up on projects, make homemade sauce and pressure can, and maybe even relax a little.
My husband came home just in time to say goodbye to them. They were so excited that they almost forgot to say goodbye to me. They were out the door saying, “Bye, Mom!” before I could even tell them how much I loved them.
So they pulled out of the driveway with huge smiles on their faces, Kevin left to go back to work, and I walked upstairs and sat down on my bed.
The house was completely silent.
There was no one talking. No loud videos playing from another room. No footsteps pounding through the house. No one asking for a snack five minutes after eating. No bickering, yelling, laughing, or random chaos.
There was just…nothing.
I took a deep breath.
And then I cried.
I know…what the heck was wrong with me, right?
They were obviously having the time of their lives while Mom was at home having an existential crisis.
I couldn’t wrap my head around being away from my babies for that long, even though I was dying for a break and some quiet. I sat there for an hour or so before Kevin came back home from work and then we went out to a nice dinner and a couple of hours of gambling at one of our favorite casinos.
Attempting to remember what people without children do for fun. And ya, I’m awkward and goofy as hell.
I was WIPED by the time we got home and passed out.
The next morning, I woke up in a panic. I thought I had overslept, but in reality, I woke up before my alarm even went off.
I listened for who was awake and heard…nothing.
I still had to get up and look in their beds to realize they were gone.
My whole world was gone.
I went through my workday as usual, and by lunchtime, I realized this was going to be super depressing.
For the past few weeks my husband had been spending all of his time at the bowling alley in the middle of a planned ongoing remodel. So it was just me most of the time. (Not complaining, just stating the facts and like I said this was planned.)
I even had to remind myself to eat.
That night, I went up to the bowling alley to meet a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. And yes, I did have fun, but when everyone asked me how it was without the kids, my response was:
“I honestly don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t remember what life was like before kids.”
And I meant it.
What did we do with all that time? Did we just sit there? Did we have hobbies? Did we go out all of the time? Did we cook actual meals for only two people?
Were we interesting? I know I used to be fun!
Evidence suggests that we were, in fact, fun at some point. And Kevin did, in fact, have hair under that hat.
Because without the kids there, I honestly did not know what to do with myself.
The quiet was not peaceful at first.
It was depressing.
For the first four days, I barely did anything. It was not because I did not have things to do. There were plenty of projects around the house waiting for me.
I just could not make myself do them.
And the canning went to the wayside when my pressure canner didn’t show up on time, so I didn’t have a plan for the weekend anymore.
So I read.
I did not cook. Cooking for two suddenly felt like far too much effort, so we went out to eat or ordered takeout.
Without the kids’ schedules and needs shaping the day, I had no routine.
Apparently, when the children left, they took my motivation and purpose with them.
It was strange to realize how much of my everyday life revolves around them. The noise, the activities, the meals, the arguments, the reminders, and the endless questions can be exhausting, but they also create the rhythm of our home.
Without them, I felt lost.
The very things I sometimes want a break from are also the things that make the house feel alive.
By the last full day, something finally shifted.
I started getting things done around the house. I found some motivation, enjoyed being able to finish a task without being interrupted, and finally began appreciating the freedom I had spent the first few days feeling sad about.
And then, just as I figured out how to function without the kids, it was almost time for them to come home.
Suddenly, I wasn’t ready.
Of course, I missed them. I wanted to see them, hear about their week, and have everyone home again. The OBVIOUSLY were living their best lives (as you can see).
But I had also finally adjusted. I had found my rhythm. I had remembered how to enjoy the quiet.
Naturally, that was exactly when the break ended.
Parenthood is funny that way.
We spend so much time wishing for a little peace and quiet. Then, when we finally get it, we miss the chaos. And once we finally learn to appreciate the silence, everyone comes home.
The week reminded me that it is possible to love your children deeply and still need time away from them. It is possible to miss them terribly and also enjoy not having to take care of anyone for a few days.
Both things can be true.
I still do not completely remember who I was before kids.
But apparently, she read books, played a lot of volleyball, ordered takeout, avoided housework for a few days, and thoroughly enjoyed having the house to herself.
The second they came home and jumped into my arms with excitement and huge squeezes, everything was back to normal.
And just like that, the chaos was home where it belonged.
And my mother-in-law told me there is a reason they all leave the house at different times: so we can gradually get used to them being gone.
Sound advice, but also very depressing, because the days are flying by and that reality is only a few years away.
Excuse me while I go cry now
