A couple of years ago on August 12th, I opened Instagram and immediately felt a wave of mom guilt. My feed was full of cute photos from the day before. Several of my friends and acquaintances had posted their smiling kids with heartfelt captions that ended with #nationalsonsday and #nationaldaughtersday.

My initial response was, "Wait, what? That’s a thing? How did I miss that? Will it look bad if I post today instead?"

Then, I stopped for a moment and realized how silly it was that I was experiencing such instant panic. As if somehow, by not posting about my kids on some random Tuesday, I had failed them. If you're a parent on social media, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about. 

The Pressure of the Highlight Reel
 National Son's and Daughter's Day does have some actual history (something about a guy in Missouri in the 1930s who thought kids needed their own day?), but like most obscure "national days," it faded into irrelevance for decades.

Then social media happened, and suddenly every forgotten holiday got a second life as content. Countless celebrations, from National Doughnut Day to National Selfie Day, now pop up in our feeds with zero context but maximum FOMO if we don't participate.

The weird thing about Son’s and Daughter's Day, in particular, is that the pressure isn't even coming from greeting card companies trying to sell us stuff (Hallmark doesn't even make cards for this one). 

Instead, we put the pressure on ourselves to post a curated highlight reel with a sweet caption. Often, seeing other parents posting picture-perfect moments makes the rest of us question whether we're doing enough, loving enough, or celebrating enough.

The Performative Parenting Trap
Look, I love my kids. My 10-year-old son, my 6-year-old daughter, and my 4-year-old identical twin boys are pretty great humans most of the time. But parenting can also be exhausting and relentless. Sometimes, I'm just trying to get everyone fed and to bed without anyone having a complete meltdown (including me).

I'm not always in a "let me craft a beautiful tribute to my children" headspace. Some days, I'm counting down the days until they’re finally all back in school. And you know what, I do prioritize Mother's Day over National Son and Daughter Day, gosh darn it. You know, the day that's actually about appreciating the person who has kept these tiny humans alive and relatively functional for the last decade? 

Over the years, I’ve realized that it's okay to take the time to celebrate myself sometimes, too. It’s normal and good. It doesn't make me a bad mom, and it doesn't make you one either.

What Our Kids Actually Need
The thing is, our children don't actually need us to declare our love for them on social media. They need us to show up consistently in the not-so-post-able moments. 

When they're scared at night and need a cuddle to get back to sleep. When they need help with homework and we’re pulling our hair out trying to learn a whole new way of doing math just to be able to help them. When they're excited about something that happened at school and want to tell us a very, very long story about it.

They need us present during car rides, patient during meltdowns, and available for the random (but oddly deep) conversations that happen while they're stalling at bedtime. It turns out, none of that requires a hashtag or a perfectly filtered photo grid.

The first time I realized I “missed my window” to post and felt that sting of mom guilt, I reminded myself that my kids won't remember whether or not I posted about them on August 11th when they were 4 years old. What they will remember are the moments I listened when they told me about their day, the lunches I packed for them, and the owies I cared for.

Permission to Opt Out
Here's what I've decided (you’re welcome to join me in this). 

I'm giving myself permission to celebrate my kids however and whenever feels authentic to me. If I remember National Son's and Daughter's Day and feel inspired to post something, great! If I completely forget about it because I'm busy parenting, that's great too.

Perhaps even more importantly, I'm giving myself permission to stop comparing myself to other parents based on their social media activity. Maybe they posted because it brought them joy. Maybe they posted because they felt obligated. Maybe they didn't post because they were too busy living their actual lives with their kids. All of those choices are valid.

Showing Up IRL
To be honest, every day is Son's and Daughter's Day in my house, but it’s not because I'm constantly celebrating them with confetti and handmade cards. It’s because I'm consistently showing up for them, even when it’s hard.