Are We Allowed to Have Fun Without the Kids?

Yesterday my wife and I ran the Disneyland Half Marathon. I survived (though I’ll admit, I had my doubts if I could make it) it was sweaty and exhausting. Disney people are a whole other species. I know I really have to get better about focusing on the moment and not getting lost in my thoughts. 13 miles gives you a LONG time to think. I kept circling back to one thought: sometimes the hardest part of parenting isn’t what we do, it’s what we feel when we’re not with our kids.

What stuck with me was a question I got a few times leading up to the race. “Are you taking the kids?” A simple question, asked with no hidden agenda. Yet, somewhere inside, I felt a tiny bit of guilt, like I needed to justify why the kids weren’t coming, why this weekend was just for us. It made me think how much of parenting is performance, not in a fake way, but in a constant balancing act between what feels right for our families and what we think will be accepted by others.

Pressure

Nobody made me feel bad. But I noticed something in myself, and in conversations I’ve had with other parents. There’s this belief that says: If you’re having fun, your kids should be there too. If they’re not, are they really your priority? That thought doesn’t come from any one person, but from hearing it in the social media, movies, and even our own upbringing. It’s the nagging thought that good parents are always with their kids, even when we know balance requires breaks.

I’ve even had friends admit they took trips without their kids and didn’t hide it from their children, no, they hid it from other parents. Because what would people think if they proudly said, “We went to Hawaii, just the two of us.” It’s not their kids they worry about, it’s the judgment of their own friends and family. That’s the world we live in, where it feels safer to pretend, we never want a break, than to own the fact that we sometimes need one.

There’s an unspoken rule that good parents are supposed to want their kids included in everything. That if we need space, or joy, or rest that doesn’t revolve around our kids, it must mean something’s lacking in us, or worse, in our love for them. But that’s not true. In fact, the very opposite is often the case. It’s because we love them that we sometimes need to recharge, to be human, to reconnect with ourselves or our partners.

Time

Here’s what I realized while regretting signing up for half marathon pretty much the whole time, it’s okay to claim moments that are just ours. These moments aren’t about running away from responsibility; they’re about running toward sustainability. Parenting is not a sprint, it’s an endurance event, one much longer than a half marathon. And no endurance athlete makes it to the finish line without breaks and refueling. Even in video games like Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (The best game ever made) Link can go fishing, horseback riding, and just chat with people while he is dealing with Ganondorf’s world ending bullshit time and time again.

Running a half marathon with my wife gave us space to connect in a way we don’t always get to in the chaos of school lunches, combing my daughter’s hair, and bedtime routines. We weren’t mom and dad for a few hours. We pushed through the same miles, reminded each other to breathe, laughing at how terrible we were going to look in race photos, and shared an accomplishment that was ours. Sidenote: My wife reminded me several times not to trip, again. Last time I only made it to the literal one-mile mark and twisted my ankle. I get hurt a lot.

When our kids see us whole, happy, and sometimes tired but fulfilled, they see that adulthood is balance. They see and hopefully begin to understand that joy doesn’t always have to be centered on them, and that’s healthy and more importantly it’s reality.

Show

I think part of the problem is how we’ve gotten used to packaging parenting for social media. The vacations look perfect, the birthday parties are designed for Instagram, and we’re quick to share the wins. But the honest parts? Those don’t always make it to the feed. And in leaving them out, we create an illusion that every parent is always smiling and always thrilled to be doing every single task. I have to say vacation are hard as hell with kids, so much so, we have even come home early because the kids wouldn’t stop fighting.

Now as parents we quietly book a couples’ getaway but don’t post about it. We run a race without the kids and half-joke that we feel bad. We’re more comfortable confessing exhaustion than admitting joy that didn’t include the family. It shows that we’ve normalized burnout more than balance. Because saying “I’m wiped” gets sympathy, but saying “I needed time just for me” risks side-eye.

Sacrifice

Part of why this guilt feels so heavy is because many of us never saw our own parents prioritize themselves. For a lot of us, growing up meant watching moms and dads sacrifice every ounce of energy and never complain, as if that was the only model of good parenting. But what if we shifted things? What if being a good parent wasn’t about martyrdom but about modeling sustainability? When my kids grow up, I don’t want them to believe that love requires losing yourself. I want them to see that love can exist alongside joy, hobbies, goals, and health.

Loud

Just think of Lord of the Rings, even Frodo needed breaks while taking the ring back to Mount Doom. Him and Sam would chill, talk shit about Sauron, and relax together with a nice meal.

So maybe the best thing we can do is say it out loud. To admit that we sometimes need time without our kids, and that it makes us better parents in the long run. When one parent shares it, it creates a little space for another to say, “me too.” That’s how cultures shift, not through silence, but through honesty. If more of us admitted the truth, the less guilt there would be in the asking, “Are you taking the kids?” And maybe the answer could become as simple as, “Hell No”. Yes, I know this is easier said then done but considering it is a start.

Nah

So, here’s my little challenge to myself, and maybe to you, too. Next time you do something without the kids, don’t feel the need to justify it. Don’t hide it. Just say you needed a trip for yourself. And the more we normalize that, the easier things will be.

Because the more we normalize that, the less guilt there will be when another parent asks the inevitable, “Did you take the kids?” The answer can just be a simple: “Nah.” Something as small as that can set an example for others to not second guess their own choices so much.

Thank You

Thanks for reading through this reflection with me. If this resonated with you, I’d love if you shared it with another parent who might need the reminder that their time matters, too. And if you want to keep following along as I write about fatherhood, fitness, and gaming life, don’t forget to subscribe and share out SavePointDad with your friends.