A Much-Needed Weekend Away: A 40th Birthday Recap

Last weekend, my mom and sister flew into town to whisk me away for a quick weekend getaway to celebrate my 40th birthday. 🎉 It was short, sweet, and exactly what I didn’t even realize I needed.

They arrived on Saturday, and we kicked things off with dinner at home—I cooked, they played with the kids for a bit, and then we were off on our adventure. Bags dropped, hotel checked in, and just like that, the weekend officially began.

A Meal That Felt Almost Unreal

We had dinner at a restaurant that evening. Now, I know that doesn’t sound like anything revolutionary, but if you’re a mom, you get it. Sitting down to a meal where someone else is cooking, serving, and cleaning up—without having to cut anyone’s food, refill a water cup, or answer “Mom, can I have more ketchup?” for the fifth time—it felt unreal.

Maybe I should preface this entire post by saying: I love my kids more than anything, and I wouldn’t change a single thing. But if I could add a sprinkle of moments like this—where I felt, for a brief time, human again—I absolutely would.

That was the phrase that kept running through my mind all weekend: I feel human again.

Motherhood is beautiful, fulfilling, and more rewarding than I could have imagined—but it also asks for every single piece of you. And sometimes, in the daily whirlwind of caretaking, feeding, scheduling, cleaning, and loving so fiercely, you forget about the version of yourself who exists beyond "Mom."

That version of me—the woman who savors uninterrupted meals, sleeps through the night, and browses a bookstore just because—she still exists. And this weekend? I found her again.

After dinner, we grabbed some desserts from Wegmans (because what’s a celebration without dessert?), then headed back to the hotel for a relaxing night.

A Slow Morning, Great Coffee, and a Bit of Shopping

Sunday started bright and early—despite my sister’s reluctance. 😆 We kicked off the day with breakfast at a cozy spot, Buford’s Biscuits in Leesburg. Delicious food, great service, and a café full of artwork I adored. We got there just in time to grab the last available table, which felt like a little birthday luck on my side.

Next stop: caffeine. ☕ Because even when you’re away from your kids, mom life means coffee is still a necessity. A perfectly made latte in hand, we wandered into a bookstore on a rainy morning—honestly, what more could I ask for?

Then, a little shopping at Lululemon (a.k.a. my happy place). My mom treated me to a new pair of my favorite pants—probably because she was tired of seeing me wear the one pair with a hole in the leg. 😂 And not just that, but a cozy sweatshirt that isn’t black. Slowly but surely, I’m moving into a phase of buying clothes that have actual color in them. It’s a slow process, but hey, years of wearing black takes time to undo.

As incredible as it was to be spoiled rotten by my mom and sister, this trip was extra special for another reason:

Anyone who knows me, knows that all my funds go directly to my kids. So this weekend? This was an extra big treat.

Case in point: The Lululemon pants I was wearing were almost ten years old and had both noticeable and not-so-noticeable holes. I don’t tend to spend on myself, and while I’ve always been okay with that, this trip reminded me of something important:

I want to be a role model for my kids—especially my daughters.

I want them to see that they, too, deserve self-care. That investing in yourself—whether it’s time, rest, or even something as simple as a good pair of pants—isn’t selfish, it’s necessary.

And while the gifts were wonderful, the quality time with my mom and sister, the jokes we shared, the memories we made—that was the true gift.

I left the weekend grateful, filled up, and with a new goal in mind:

📝 To make more time for experiences like this. Not just for myself, but for the relationships that remind me who I am beyond the title of “Mom.”

I look forward to many more trips with them in the future. ✨

The Spa & The Funny Paradox of Motherhood

After a bit more wandering, we headed back to the hotel for our spa appointments. I had my first facial in TEN YEARS. Yes, it’s been a while. 😆 It felt so indulgent, so relaxing, and long overdue.

As the day went on, filled with good food, self-care, and uninterrupted connection, I kept thinking: I wish this weekend would never end.

Until, of course, I thought about my four precious babies—then suddenly, I missed them so much I could burst.

And this right here? This is the paradox of motherhood.

We crave space. We dream of silence, rest, and the ability to just be. We long for a few moments where we aren’t being needed, touched, or called for. And then the moment we get it?

We miss them so much it physically hurts.

It’s like the instant the chaos is removed, the quiet feels almost too quiet. The freedom, though glorious, feels a little empty. And suddenly, all you want is to hear their voices, feel their arms around you, and be back in the life that—just hours ago—felt like it was swallowing you whole.

Motherhood is this constant dance between wanting to step away and wanting to pull them closer. Between needing a break and never wanting to be apart. Between exhaustion and unshakable love.

This weekend reminded me that both things can exist at the same time.

I can love them with my whole being and still need space to breathe.

I can crave alone time and still count down the hours until I’m back with them.

I can feel lost in motherhood some days and rediscover myself in weekends like these.

And maybe the secret isn’t choosing one or the other—it’s making space for both.

So as I walked back into my home at the end of the weekend, arms full of shopping bags and heart full of love, I felt more like myself than I had in a long time. A mom who is also a woman. A woman who is also a mom. And somehow, it all felt just right.

Moms, Let’s Talk

💬 When was the last time you took a break that made you feel like YOU again?

Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear how you navigate the paradox of motherhood. 💕

Your fellow Chaos Coordinator,

Kelly