I just got off the plane from two nights away SOLO.

I went to Melbourne to visit a wonderful friend, and I did it with no kids and no responsibilities.

This was my first night away from my littlest man in his 17 months earthside and the absolute longest I have been away from my big girl. What’s more, it was the first time Jai was left alone for two nights with work, kindy drop off/pick up, bath, bed and the absence of the boobs to deal with. I knew they would all be A-ok, but I still left feeling pretty bloody anxious.

As it turned out we all coped just fine. I managed to hand over household control and Jai totally kept the kids alive. The household seemed to run like absolute clockwork.

I was actually a tiny bit irritated by just how tidy everything was when I returned, and it got me wondering (momentarily) if there was some kind of magical domestic super powers that he has been holding out on me.

For me, my weekend away wasn’t the raging girls-gone-wild vacay that I regularly joke about with my pals, as we lust for cocktails and eating our meals with two hands and wearing lipstick again. Rather, it was the kind of weekend I actually dream about – lots of tea and chats, lounge room floor picnics, mulled wine and sleep.

The break was just what I needed . Although my three babes were missed, I made a conscious effort to stay in the moment and enjoy a much lighter mental load. I got to see my friend, meet her delicious baby, get to know her baby daddy/fiancé, watch her navigate motherhood AND step-motherhood like a bloody pro. And, I got to spend some time with another little family of four.

Really, there is nothing more special than catching up with the people you love and getting to know the people that they love.

This little midweek rendezvous has me feeling all kinds of refreshed, grateful, inspired and ready to tackle the weetbix cement that tomorrow morning’s breakfast will no doubt bring.