Two years ago, for my very first Mother's Day, still deeply in the trenches of the 9 month sleep regression, I received a candle, enclosed in the same brown Amazon box it had arrived in. It said: "Mom, light me when I fart." Now, I’ll let you guess how well that went over. We've done better since, but there is always room for improvement, and that’s kind of the point.
This issue is not meant to speak for every mom or mother figure out there. But I'm going to bet a lot of us have our own version of the candle story, or more so, what it often represents: a checkbox. Flowers- check. There was acknowledgement; moving on. It’s not malicious, but I think many moms would agree that what we really want isn’t stuff (although we’ll take it lol.) And it’s not some big mystery.
It's to feel like our needs truly matter for one day. To feel like somebody actually sees us. To hear somebody say: I see what you carry every day, and today I'm going to set some of it down for you.
That's it. That's the whole thing. This week we're breaking it down — whether you're reading this for yourself, or forwarding it to someone who could use a nudge. (It's not too late. Mother's Day is Sunday.)
In this issue:
✅ How to actually plan the day — including the part where you just... plan it
✅ How to tell her what you see — even if feelings aren't exactly your thing
✅ How to make something from today that lasts longer than brunch
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🧘♀️ Plan the damn day. Both parts of it.
👉 Here's something true about most working moms (at least confirmed by my group chats and much of the internet): we want a little time to ourselves AND a little family time. Not one or the other. Both. What we do not want is to be the one figuring out how to make either of those things happen.
So the tip isn't what to plan. It's this: you plan it. You book it. She touches nothing.
Not a gift card she has to redeem. Not "I was thinking maybe we could..." Not "what do you want to do?" An actual, confirmed, already-handled plan.
Ideas for her time alone (day of or later):
A house cleaning booked for the week after — not a voucher, an actual appointment (HomeaGlow offers a first time intro rate as low as $19, Thumbtack lets you compare local rates, and Molly Maid is a national chain and can often accommodate last minute requests.)
A meal kit subscription starting next week, framed as: "one week where you don't decide dinner" (HomeChef has great family-friendly options, and Blue Apron no longer requires a subscription so you can just do a one-time purchase of their meal kits or pre-made meals). Honestly, you can cancel after that first (often deeply discounted) box and it would STILL be a win.
A morning where the kids are OUT → not "I'll handle them downstairs," actually out, so she can do nothing, or everything, in actual quiet
A massage or facial that is already on the calendar (a gift card she has to book herself is still a task)
For family time (free or close to it):
A picnic she had zero part in packing (bonus if there’s her coffee shop drink of choice and fresh pastries involved, imho).
A walk or park trip where someone else handles the logistics bag entirely
A family photo shoot where she is actually in the pictures (more on this in tip three)
Whatever she would actually choose, if someone just... asked her directly
The whole point is this: the cognitive load of planning a day IS the load. If she still has to tell you what to do, you haven't given her anything. Plan both parts. Handle it. Show up with a plan.
💬 Say the thing. Out loud. Or in writing. Either works.
👉 There's a reason "I see you" lands so differently than "you're such a great mom." One is specific and names the invisible. And according to research that will surprise exactly zero mothers: the reason working moms feel so depleted isn't just the physical labor — it's that most of what they carry is never acknowledged, even by the people who benefit from it most. (71% of household mental load falls on moms, and dads are far more likely to perceive the split as equal. Make of that what you will. 🤨)
So the tip is: name the specific things. Not "you do so much." The actual things you've noticed.
If words come easily:
Write a card - no, not a store-bought sentiment, a list. Real things you've actually observed. "I noticed you haven't ordered something you actually like at a restaurant in years because nobody else eats it." "I noticed you somehow remember every single thing that goes in the school bag even on the one day it's slightly different." "I noticed you never once complained when the baby woke up three times in a row." (Erm, that would not be true in my home 😬).
That level of specific. (And if you genuinely haven't noticed these things, that's a separate conversation we don't have space for today.)
If words don't come as easily:
Say something kind, out loud, using more than 1 sentence at dinner, in front of the kids → that version is more meaningful than you'd think AND sets a great example
Record a voice note and text it to her → she'll probably keep it forever
Sit down with the kids and make a list together: what does mom do that you love? Kids will give you material. Use it.
The goal isn't to be poetic. It's to be specific. Generic appreciation is fine. Being seen — by name, for the actual things you do — is something different entirely.
💗 Make something from today she'll still have in ten years.
👉 Moms take most of the family photos. They also appear in almost none of them (a survey of 5,000 moms found that the people preserving the memories are systematically absent from them.) Today is a good day to fix that, and to make something from this specific day that she'll actually want to keep.
Some ideas:
Film a kid interview. Sit them down, ask questions, hit record. Some good ones:
What does mom do every day?
What's mom's favorite food?
What makes mom really happy?
What do you love most about mom?
If mom were a superhero, what would her power be?
The answers will be adorable, chaotic, occasionally completely wrong, and 100% worth having. Record it, send it to her, and save it somewhere she can actually find it later. (Bonus: this takes fifteen minutes and costs nothing, which means there is genuinely no excuse. Bribe the kids with candy if you need to, but just do it.)
Do a photo shoot. Even a phone propped against a fence works. Get a family photo with everyone in it, her included, and then actually print one she loves. Chatbooks makes adorable, quick photobooks, and Mixtiles offers a damage-free photo and frame in one. (Or run to Walmart for photo printing and a frame by Sunday.) The point isn't production quality. The point is she's in it.
Do a Mad Libs. Little kids filling out "Mom is the best because ____" and "Mom's favorite thing to do is ____" and "Mom smells like ____" (always a wildcard) is both hilarious and the kind of thing she'll keep in a drawer for years.
Today is the material. Capture some of it.
K that’s all. You’re the best and we love you.
-CK “Will Also Accept PB M&Ms Though” Fuller (Editor) & the JB Crew 🫡
P.S. What’d you think? Did this one land for you? Hit reply and tell me. I read every single one. 💜
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