Last week my sister, L., and I had a quick, three-day vacation together sans kids. She had a conference, and I tagged along for the cheap (free) lodging and the chance to lounge about the hotel room in my underwear, watching “The Daily Show” and noodling about on my computer. I skipped sight-seeing and museum-visiting, venturing out only for food and a brief shopping trip to buy something for the kids. There was a lot more I didn’t do on this trip than I did.

I didn’t have to worry that the baby crying on the outbound plane journey would cause dirty looks to be cast my way, or send me digging through my overstuffed diaper bag for snacks, sippy cups, toys, or a portable DVD player. It wasn’t my baby! And therefore not my problem. I send empathetic vibes out to that traveling mom up front. Then I put on my iPod and cranked up the volume.

I didn’t have to plan my day around nap times, meal times, or bed times—except my own, which were entirely, pleasurably arbitrary. I could stay up late and read, or go to sleep early; order room service, or go out.

And when we did go out, we didn’t have to pick a “family-friendly” restaurant. The menus were devoid of chicken strips and hot dogs. I didn’t cut my food up into bite-sized pieces, and my sister refrained from giving me a “consequence” for not finishing all of my mint julep. (We had mint juleps!)

I didn’t come home from our journey feeling tapped out, worn thin, as I have after some of our family “vacations” – because a relaxing, get-away-from-it-all family vacation is an oxymoron. All the parenting duties – the meal times, the bed times, the let’s-find-something-to-keep-you-amused times, the why-are-you-crying times – are in full force during vacation. Parenting is not a part-time job: it’s a road show, and you take it with you wherever you go.

Unless you go it alone.

Or with your partner in crime, your sister, who – when I asked her what she liked best about some time away from the family – said, “I don’t yell.”

We didn’t yell.

But we did miss our children and our husbands – whom we were able to appreciate, in all their chaos and beauty, from a distance.