The Day I Forgot Mother’s Day
This month, as I stood in the kitchen updating our family’s May calendar, I carefully filled in every detail: sports practices, school field trips, multiple birthdays, doctor’s appointments, family events. I double-checked my work, color-coded each child’s events, and reminded my husband of when I need to be in D.C. for work.
Days later when my oldest daughter was inspecting the calendar she remarked, “Mommy, you forgot to put Mother’s Day on there!”
I paused and felt that heavy, familiar mix of recognition and regret. Of course I forgot. It was an off-hand comment, but it bothered me. It was yet another reminder that in all my efforts to hold everything together, I often forget myself. And I hate that this is the example I’m setting for my kids.
The Unseen Work of Mothering (and Leading)
For many women, especially those leading in their workplaces and households, this kind of forgetfulness isn’t about memory. It’s about the mental load—the constant vigilance of caregiving, planning, anticipating, remembering. It’s the job within the job. The quiet orchestration of everyone else’s life.
This is what makes Mother’s Day a little complicated. For many working moms and caregivers, it’s not just a day of flowers and pancakes. It’s a moment of reckoning…a reminder of how often we minimize our own needs, or even disappear entirely from our own schedules.
Mention “the mental load” to any mom, and you’ll get the same knowing look. We all know it. We feel it. We carry it.
And we don’t get to set it down when we go to work. If anything, we add more to it.
“Did I remember to schedule that meeting?”
“Have I responded to the emails I flagged yesterday?”
“What about the all-hands meeting? Am I the one on the hook for the agenda?”
“That client still doesn’t have what they need—I need to nudge the team again.”
“My students need to start their Mother’s Day craft. Wait…did I send in the school donations?”
“My calendar is back-to-back. When am I supposed to breathe today?”
What Real Self-Care Looks Like
In her book Real Self-Care, psychiatrist Dr. Pooja Lakshmin challenges the Instagram-worthy, bath-bomb version of self-care. Instead, she points us toward something deeper and more sustainable—boundaries, compassion, agency, and values-based decision making.
This applies to every facet of our lives. Real self-care isn’t just about what we do after work or once the kids are in bed (because let’s face it, we’re probably trying to eat leftovers, make lunches, check e-mail, do a load of laundry all in a few hours before we crash). It’s how we show up in all our roles—how we make decisions, how we protect our energy, and how we stay aligned with what actually matters to us.
As women who both care and lead, we’re often expected to be endlessly available, emotionally fluent, operationally excellent, and quietly selfless. But that’s not sustainable and it’s not leadership. Real leadership includes caring for yourself with the same conviction and compassion you extend to others.
Here are a few takeaways I’m reflecting on this month:
- Real self-care isn’t a to-do list item. It’s the internal work of asking yourself what you need, not just what others expect from you.
- Boundaries are not barriers—they’re leadership tools. They’re how we clarify our values, communicate our capacity, and protect what matters most.
- Modeling matters. Our kids and our colleagues are watching how we treat ourselves. Are we modeling sacrifice or sustainability?
- Joy is not frivolous. It’s a strategy for resilience, and a radical act of presence in lives that are often over-full.
This is the hidden weight so many women leaders and caregivers carry: the expectation that we will anticipate everything, tend to everyone, and do it all without missing a beat or asking for help.
To the Women Who Carry So Much
To the mothers, caregivers, and women leaders doing this balancing act daily: I see you. I am you. We are not just holding it all—we’re shaping the world, quietly and powerfully.
So this Mother’s Day, I’m doing something different.
I’m putting myself on the calendar.
And maybe that’s the example I want to set for my kids after all.
Clearing the Way: Questions for Reflection
- What are the “Mother’s Day moments” you forget to put on your calendar?
- Where might you be modeling depletion instead of intention?
- What’s one boundary you can set this month in service of your own well-being?
- What would it look like to care for yourself the way you care for others, without guilt?