Best Ever Mother's Day Gift?!

The most important guilt-free thing you must give yourself this year.

Hi old and new friends! I was debating on what to write about today in honor of Mother’s Day.

I thought of writing about how I tried to give unmedicated natural birth, off the bed, in a New York hospital (it’s common in Scandinavia), and how my zen state seemed to catch the OB off guard, and as we were alone in the room, Jonas was caught by my husband on top of a birthing ball. (It’s kind of a cool story; want to hear it? Say yes! below).

I also thought about writing about playground etiquette, US vs. Finland, and how I just caught one of my mom friends off guard at a playground, where I sat down to chat with her, while—gasp—my toddler played, climbed and slid down independently. “I don’t know how you can not hover over him,” she said, slightly terrified. “Because, inspired by Finnish parents and daycare, I now know he can figure it out! And I’m right here.”

But then I realized there was a much more important story to share. The story of mom guilt and what motherhood could be without it. This is very personal, and I wrote it soon after we got back to the US from Finland. I haven’t dared to share it before, but I think it’s time.

“You Don’t Love Me”

Rainy, gloomy, gray morning. I’m driving the three boys to school.

One of my boys is scheduled to celebrate his birthday belatedly at his school the next day, and is allowed to bring a treat for everyone in his class.

“Let’s make it easy & fun!,” I suggest, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “You can make popcorn for your friends tonight and pack them in little popcorn 🍿 bags.” 

“Are you going to be there?” he says, pensively.

“Well, it’s at 11am, so it’s a tough time for mama & dad. We just had a party at home and a party for your friends; do you want to do this one with just your school friends?” 

“No, you should be there.”

Mom Is Always There

I’m not sure how to explain to my son that in the US, our schedules and the culture are all very different from our days in Finland last fall. Upon returning back to Westport, CT, I realized that, for me to feel fulfilled, I needed to start protecting the few hours I had each weekday to pursue my career & purpose outside the kids—because if I didn’t, the opportunities, requests & demands from all things kid-related quickly filled up that time. Before, I often would let it, and prioritized it—because the mom guilt I would feel otherwise was far worse.

I again look at my son in the rearview mirror, and decide to keep it simple: 

“Ok, well, we can’t really do 11am, because both of us have work, but how about we ask if we could do the celebration any other day at 9am, right when I drop you off?”

He looks at me. And he is not happy.

“So work is more important than me?” He stares. “It’s never a problem for anyone else.”

“Never a problem for anyone else’s mom?”

“Yes, never a problem for anyone else’s mom.”

I take a deep breath. 

“I guess you don’t care about me.”

Another deep breath. 

I pull the car over.

“Look, my love, nothing, including my work, is ever, never more important than you. You are always, always the most important thing to me,” I say and wait for the nod, to see if he really hears me. He does. 

“9am is just a bit easier than 11am. Could we at least try and see if it’s possible?”

“Ok, but can you ask.”

“Yes, yes I can.” 

Later that week, snuggling at bedtime, we talked about what loving someone means. And being there for someone. And what loving yourself means. In his eyes, and in mine, and as mom and son.

Hi! Don’t forget to tap the heart-shaped like button at the end - it’s like saying hi back, I was here!

Bad Mom Syndrome

The problem with mom guilt is that it’s an untamable beast: it’s a fluid concept that changes with the times, cultures, and your own personal parenting blueprint.

I doubted myself there: should I feel guilty over not wanting to immediately be available in the middle of a school day? Should I feel guilty over wanting to spend that time to work, rather than, say, work after kids went to bed, or wanting work at all? How guilty would I feel if I had no flexibility? Should I feel guilty because I wasn’t sure I needed to be present for three birthday celebrations? Should I feel guilty being a mom “who has a problem” being available?

After Lucas was born, I felt so guilty for going back to work when he was two months old, and I also felt guilty for hopping off my corporate media career that I had spent over a decade building—just so I could see my son in the evenings, working more flexible hours first for a tiny company, and then for my own start-up.

I had really spent almost 9 years feeling guilty, and you can’t be happy and guilty at the same time.

Luckily, I could now see all this through two different lenses. The Scandinavian mom lens, and the American mom lens:

Having the opportunity to experience mom life in another country, in another culture, gave me a birds’ eye view to mom guilt.

It’s your own construct like the impostor syndrome. A bad-mom syndrome will take you down, anytime, if you let it, and over anything—it could take you down over not cutting heart-shaped fruits and placed a love letter in your child’s school lunchbox. You didn’t do it, so you are a bad mom, especially if another mom did it. But only you can decide for you, and for your family, what a good mom is.

After living in Finland and seeing that they didn’t feel guilty over so many of the things I did, I chose to create my own personal standard of being a good mom, and live up to that standard and no-one else’s—and starting this Mother’s Day, you should too.

Many, in Finland, would say to me—when I was stressing out about my parenting—that good moms, and dads, keep kids fed, clothed, safe and loved.

Everything else is extra, and nothing you, nor me, should feel guilty about. So, for this Mother’s Day, let’s give ourselves a gift that keeps giving: less mom guilt. Mom life is so much better without the the guilt.

Have you too struggled with mom guilt—and dads, is there a thing as dad guilt?! Do you think the Supermom ideal drives the guilt? Can you curb it?

Anyone you want to gift with this Less Mom Guilt Concept? Tap below to share on social and with friends!