As a single mom, Mother’s Day has never looked quite as curated as the picture-perfect brunches and bouquets I see splashed across social media.
Instead of a leisurely breakfast in bed, I’m more likely to be woken at 6 a.m. by the calls for “Mama!” from my adorably persistent alarm clock. Without a partner to make plans, I’ve had to find a new path to celebrate Mother’s Day.
The first Mother’s Day was a blur
My first Mother’s Day was a blur of newborn snuggles and sleep deprivation. My daughter, Via, was one week old, and I was so madly in love with my tiny, wrinkled baby that every moment with her felt like a celebration.
I had no plans beyond washing bottles and feeling her fist grip around my finger. Last Mother’s Day, we were living in Bali and Mother’s Day wasn’t on the local calendar (they celebrate in December, instead), so it again passed without plans or special recognition.
This year, however, feels different. Via is 3 years old; she’s a whirlwind of curiosity, energy, and increasing independence. I’d love to do something meaningful on Mother’s Day. Yet, the thought of orchestrating a traditional celebration — the kind that often involves a partner’s thoughtful planning and execution — feels like adding another task onto my already overflowing plate.
As a working single mom, the mental and emotional labor of planning, deciding, preparing, arranging, and managing is never-ending. Adding the pressure of creating a Pinterest-worthy Mother’s Day feels less like a celebration and more like another “to-do.”
I’m dropping my toddler off with my mom for a day
I considered not making any plans and letting the day once again pass without notice, but I also feel that this incredible journey of motherhood deserves special recognition. I decided to split the weekend into two parts. On the Friday before Mother’s Day, I’m dropping Via off with my mom for a sleep-cation. Every time I catch up on rest, I feel like the best version of myself; the best gift I could give myself this Mother’s Day is to show up for the day recharged.
I booked a night at the nearby resort and a dinner reservation at an upscale Chinese restaurant I’ve wanted to try. I’m going to sleep in the next day and stay in bed for the better part of the morning before heading to brunch. Then, on the way home, I’m stopping for an ultra-relaxing massage. A nice dinner, a serene resort, sleeping in, and a visit to the spa — to me, this is the ultimate relaxing pre-Mother’s Day respite.
After recharging, I’ll reconnect with my daughter and celebrate my own mom
This year, my Mother’s Day won’t involve a fancy brunch I had to research, book, and then wrangle a toddler through. Even better will be the sweet reunion I always feel with my daughter after a night away; I breathe her in like oxygen, and she fills every cell of my body. These are my favorite, fleeting moments of motherhood — when I’m recharged enough to delight in her fully.
Every so often, I’m overcome with awe as I watch my daughter. Time slows down as I capture every word and expression like a video. My adoration leaks out of my eyes in happy tears that I wipe away before she notices. Those glorious, intoxicating moments don’t happen every day; they usually occur when I’m mentally and physically well-rested.
This year, I’ve invested in giving myself the space and resources to do that, so that on Mother’s Day, I can just spend the day enjoying the simple joys and ever-growing love I have for my daughter. And, of course, celebrate my mother. I’ve made her a photo book with some of our memories from the past year and, on Mother’s Day, I’ll help Via decorate a card to give her. I know these simple gestures don’t fully demonstrate her importance to us, but she knows what I now understand: being a mom is the best gift.
As a solo parent, I’m redefining celebration not as a grand event but as an acknowledgment of the extraordinary job and privilege that it is to be a mother. In that, I’ve found a Mother’s Day that truly resonates.
