I’m writing this after a failed attempt at a holiday family vacation with my three children, 10 years after my divorce, while sipping tequila on the rocks, bingeing the fifth season of Emily in Paris, and nursing away my disappointment.
After two months of planning a trip to London, which included activities to satisfy all three of my children (a feat in itself), our trip was thwarted by the snowstorm that pummeled the Northeast on Boxing Day. We made not one but two round-trip Uber rides to Newark airport and attempted three different flights, including a last-ditch standby flight.
Alas, we had to cancel our trip. I’ve had my fair share of disappointment in life, but this hit different, prompting me to become introspective about why I was feeling so disappointed.
I have some practice in being away from my children
At 21, 19, and 17, the ages of my children, squarely places me in a phase of “day-to-day parenting disentanglement.” I’ve had practice in this department, having 50% shared custody with their father for the last ten years, and for the most part have done my best to grow accustomed to less control and knowledge of all the little things parents know about their kids: what they ate for dinner, what time they had a snack, who they had a playdate with, what friend they got in an argument with, if they passed their latest biology test with flying colors, the latest binge-worthy show.
During the college years, these everyday details continue to diminish, leaving me grasping at whatever I can get. I was shocked to hear my son’s latest burger order included a fried egg and loads of ketchup. Believe it or not, none of my children liked ketchup growing up. I made a bet with my son when he was seven that he would eventually like it.
At 15, when he still didn’t like ketchup, I paid up, but now at 19, it was my payday, except I hated that I didn’t know exactly when the beloved condiment flipped him. It could have been months ago, but instead it was just a detail kept from me until a random lunch order last week.
I wanted to have some “forced family fun”
I wanted this trip so much because, quite honestly, I wanted to trap them and hold them hostage for a few days in a foreign country. Forced family fun, if you will. The same room, shared meals, and activities where the conversation just flows, effortlessly moving from one topic to another, revealing something new about their emerging and maturing thoughts and interests. Travel lends well to mutual discovery of new places, sights, smells, and experiences.
It was going to be an opportunity for all of us to see how we each react in certain situations. Which one of us gets frustrated with lines or airport delays? What sight filled us with awe? Who tried a new food?
I wanted to relinquish my mom role for a short time
I was looking forward to relinquishing the taskmaster role I often have at home while fulfilling all the admin duties. Our trip would give us a chance to soften and shed the traditional parent/child roles. My children could figure out the right Tube stop to take to get to the football match, and I could watch how they tackle the world outside our living room. A chance to create lasting, bonding memories where we could be enthralled or awed by an exhibit, a game-winning goal, or the most mouth-watering fish and chips and pint at a historic English pub.
Home may be where the heart is, but more specifically, when my children are home, their hearts and bodies are in their rooms. I’ve read a ton of articles about teenagers’ need for privacy and independence, which leads them to spend countless hours there.
I’m often baffled by their desire to watch a feature film on their phone or computer instead of on a big screen in the living room with other people for a shared experience (gasp)! Often they sneak down into the kitchen for food like a ninja in the night, seen by no one, but leaving crumbs on the counter, or an open cabinet from getting a glass; a trail of clues for me to piece together their eating habits and actions.
It’s a struggle to get all of us to do something
Meal times are not consistent because everyone wakes up at different times, and of course, you add in the pull of friends. One is out with friends, the other wants to go to the gym, and the other is waiting for texts back to figure out plans. Maybe it’s my parenting style, but I find it a constant struggle to get all of us to do something, at the same time that we can all agree on. We are more like four ships passing through the night than a family of four.
As a single parent, this has given me much anxiety over the years, wondering if this is common behavior when my children are at their father’s for one, or if it’s something just divorced families relate to. My unsophisticated polling of friends has shown me it’s not just a divorced-family phenomenon, which is slightly comforting, but also makes me want to push harder to find other ways to reimagine our family dynamic.
Time isn’t on my side, my kids are growing up quickly
Time is also not on my side. My daughter is going to be a senior in college this fall, my son a junior, and my youngest daughter a freshman. The two oldest have already landed internships this summer, which they will want to bust their asses for in hopes of potential ongoing employment, making it hard to plan another trip.
All three have already made plans with friends for their spring breaks, and the summer weekends are sliced in half, sharing time with their Dad. Then you mix in the high school friends they want to see…the college friends…not to mention potential significant others who take priority. I mean, who doesn’t want to watch young summer love? I can just see the sand particles flowing right on through the hourglass.
I had FOMO when my kids got away with their dad
My children were able to get away for a few days with their father during this break, which, of course, I was overwhelmingly happy to hear, but it comes with a plethora of complicated feelings. We have a group family chat, and I got some photos and updates from their trip. My oldest asked me if I ever get FOMO in these situations. Of course I do, I told her. I always will.
She told me she would have “mad FOMO,” and I could tell from her response that, for the first time, she really considered what it might feel like to walk in different shoes. In all the muck of tangled emotions this phase of parenting brings, I’ve decided this is a beautiful, bright spot.
Your kids will continue to gain empathy and compassion, and this phase will move into the next phase of early adulthood, which I’m guessing might require even more guidance, support, hand-holding, and pep talks as they navigate first jobs and apartments, and potential life partners that may join the family. I can only hope they might actually need me more once again.
I will finish licking my wounds and accept that, for whatever reason, this trip to London wasn’t meant to be. I’ll focus on the positives, remember that parenting is just a continuum of phases, and start scheming up a new adventure for 2026 and beyond.
More Great Reading:
How To Cope When You’re Missing Your Big Kid So Much It Hurts
