This past Saturday, I flew to Miami to celebrate my friend Lucy’s birthday. That’s her in the hat up top. We were six women staying at a friend’s friend’s apartment at the One Hotel with a 14th floor balcony overlooking the ocean. I’m not going to downplay it— it was a sweet set-up.

Even better? All our husbands and our kids were left in New York to deal with Daylight Savings Time on their own.

But I’ll come back to them, because when we arrived, our main focus was changing into flip-flops and bathing suits and finding a cocktail on the beach.

We opted for a bottle of champagne and popped that bubbly oceanside. After a few hours of drinking, we got ready to go out for dinner at Matador at the Addition Hotel, which was AMAZING. It’s also possible that Arroz con Pollo and Truffle Fontina Pizza just taste better in the absence of children.

It was around our third glass of wine that we all started receiving pics and videos of our kids from our husbands, who all appeared to be together, running around like chickens with their heads cut off while the adults sat back and watched.

“What is this? Like a kid-version of Fight Club?”

“You think they are taking bets as to which kid gets through the weekend alive?”

“Whose huge dog is that?”

“Wait. Is that someone’s feet up in the air??? Where is that child’s head?!”

“Is that Harlow being dragged on her knees across the floor??”

“Is this currently happening? It’s past 10pm!!”

We decided to just forget whatever it was we just saw and get back to the task at hand— we ordered another round. Then, promptly forgot our families trying to survive at home.

The next morning, thanks to mechanical black out shades, I woke up at about 10am. Since it was supposed to rain, we arranged for a poolside cabana for the day. We headed down there to get breakfast. I think it was about 11am when someone suggested we order our first cocktail. WHY THE HELL NOT??

I talked to the kids over facetime and gave them a little tour of the beach and the hotel over facetime.

“It looks like summer there, Mommy! It’s going to snow here.”

“I know. I hope I don’t get stuck here.”

Next, I went for a walk on the beach to find seashells for the girls. I found two conch shells and a sea fan which I thought would look cool if I let it dry, spray painted it white and mounted it on marble or something. These are the kind of overly ambitious thoughts a child-free person has after three drinks before 1pm.

Farther along the beach, I walked up to a sandbar and did a little 360 for Snapchat.

Meanwhile, Mike sent me a photo of the kids making slime. What stuck out to me was the bottle of moonshine in the foreground.

Later on, he sent me a photo of the girls watching a movie. They look thrilled.

After doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, we showered and went out to eat at Upland which was also AMAZING. I particularly recommend the wahoo appetizer and the lobster pasta. We finished the meal with pecan pie cheesecake which looked disgusting but tasted out of this world. With a candle in it for Lucy, of course.

Then we all passed out back at the hotel HARD.

Monday morning, I woke up at 9am in a king sized bed all by myself, opened the shades, stared out at the ocean, lazed about for a bit and then dreamily checked Instagram. The first photo that popped up in my feed was this one from Mike. 

His caption read: “We made the on time bus the day after Day Light Savings #fatheroftheyear #nomomneeded.” His friend commented underneath: “Daddyshorts is definitely more sad and depressing.” I laughed for a good ten minutes and then joined my friends at the pool for pancakes and mimosas.

At breakfast, I got a message that my flight that evening was canceled due to the blizzard in NY. A call to American Airlines (after waiting on the phone for over an hour) told me that my only options were to go to the airport and see if anything opened up on standby or to leave on Wednesday. I opted to go to the airport and ended up getting lucky with a 2:12pm flight back to JFK.

As soon as the airline confirmed my flight, I wondered if I made a mistake. Why was I rushing to go home when I could wait out the blizzard in Miami?? Wouldn’t this be the PERFECT place to get stuck for a couple of days? Mike had even said he was fine if I chose to stay.

I concluded it was a case of “Mom Guilt” and boarded my flight.

That night, I got home at 6pm and was greeted with the most massive set of hugs I’ve ever received. “Make it even tighter, Mommy!” Harlow instructed me. “Let me get in there!” Mazzy screamed.

Then Mike and I sat on the couch and watched the kids dance their hearts out to Moana as we waited for the blizzard to hit. Laughing our asses off every time Harlow effectively hit a high note. I knew the actual snow day would have it’s ups and downs (the kids both have no school) but that moment on the couch felt just as perfect as a Miami beach. I was glad to be home.

Then I woke up to this:

Maybe we just need a couple of mimosas to weather the storm.