I woke up Mother’s day morning to my usually alarm clock: a grumpy baby wanting to escape a crib. I picked her up, squeezed her tight, and went along with our usually morning routine. First, I lay her down for a quick diaper change and she, almost simultaneously, demands to be picked up again. We make our way to the kitchen and I, one handedly, prepare a quick breakfast and a sippy cup. I sit her on the floor, and I prepare our outfits and bags for the day. But on mother’s day, our outfits and bags included swimsuits, many more snacks, and one extra, of everything.  My family (mostly my dad, he’s the spontaneous not-so- planner) planned a day of fun in the keys. We packed up two cars and made the couple hour drive south. Before making it to our resort, we made a pit stop at Robert Is Here for milkshakes and smoothies. Marlowe’s second visit (as off as it seems to link back to this event, you can see the first one HERE). At the resort, we rented jet skies and catamarans (is that what they’re called? Those sailboat type things?). I spent much of my time following Marlowe in an out of the water. She splashed and played, my family rode around on jet-skies, and I stood there, in a saddened daze. I wanted so badly to be happy to enjoy my (more than beautiful) surroundings, my family, the sunshine, and everything, but I found it difficult. My mood had been off. My week had been tiring and difficult. And the day before, had been one of my most trying days as a mother. I just wanted a break and I wanted to relief, but even in the most perfect of days, it wasn’t completely happening. I felt guilty that I wasn’t loving every second. I felt guilty because part of me still wanted to cry at how awful the day before had been. I felt guilty because I wanted to feel more appreciated. Marlowe wouldn’t know it’s mothers day, but her father would, and I was angry and hurt that he couldn’t take one second to tell me he appreciated the work I do for our child, for his child. Is that a wrong feeling? Or a stupid feeling? I’m not sure, but I felt it. I didn’t need a gift or a card. I didn’t need him to tell me I was doing a great job and I didn’t need to be reassured of what a wonderful mother I am, because I already know. I just wanted a “thank you” for the work and sacrifices I make, to raise our daughter alone, each day. Feeling upset, because I’m upset over something that I shouldn’t be upset about: dumb. It’s the feeling I have with most ‘hallmark holidays’. Just as most single people are ‘supposed’ to hate and dread Valentines day, I don’t look forward to Mother’s day. It’s a reminder of something I’d rather not waste my time thinking about. I don’t want to expect a thank you because it’s a holiday. But I did and I do, and I become angry with myself, because I do. What a foolish idea. 
I don’t ever expect Marlowe to thank me. She doesn’t have to. I do what I do for her, because I love her, just the same as all mother’s do for their children. I’d give up everything and more if it means: I can spend my time with her, watching her grow, love, and smile. Sure, I love my time off, my nights out, I even love work, and the few moments of me-time I get when she sleeps, but my priority is her. Always her. 
In conversation with a guy I met last night, I mentioned I was a mother. (Admittedly, I usually mention this to men who approach me, in an attempt to scare away any future conversations). He told me “Happy belated mother’s day. It’s definitely something special, to be a mother”. And I smiled. I smiled at the simple idea of wishing a stranger a ‘happy belated mothers day’ and I smiled at the thought. It truly is something special to be a mother. I am a lucky individual to be able to not only call myself a woman, but also “a mother”. And while I doubt I will ever love mother’s day, I will always love the idea of being a mother… and not just a mother, but a mother to my daughter. It really is something special. 
A mother first. A spontaneous dancer, second.
Happy belated mother’s day, mamas. 
(Thank you)
Marlowe’s suit c/o snapping turtle kids.
Mama’s suit: j crew.

last years post.

ps. Last chance to enter our pretty amazing giveaway 🙂 


  1. thank you for voicing these feelings. i am a single mom and delivered my daughter the day before mother's day last year, so this felt like my first REAL mother's day. and, it was a pretty big blahhhh. by his own choice, my daughter's father just became involved in her life a few months ago, and like you i felt pissed off that he wouldn't take 30 seconds out of his day to send a text to thank me for the endless work i've done raising our daughter by myself. i felt sad that there wasn't anybody to make me pancakes or help my daughter make a card for me.

    i'm not proud of these feelings, but being a single mom is damn hard and the hallmark holidays are a glaring reminder of what "traditional" things we're missing out on. as you said, my daughter owes me nothing! i was the one who chose this life path for us, and i will bear any subsequent burden.

    all this to say: your feelings are valid, you are not alone, and we're all allowed a little wallowing every now and then. 🙂

  2. You are doing an incredible job. And you're allowed to feel however you wish about it. Your feelings towards Alex not voicing his "Thank you" are not dumb. He owes you at the very least that.

  3. mama, you are a mother and you are a mother e-ve-ry day. start celebrating mother's day every day cause you are one every day. i can totally understand where you are coming from as far as your emotions towards mother's day are concerned but, celebrate yourself and Marlowe. daily. that's what life is for. not just one day. but every day. sure, not the days that suck but yeah, still on the days that suck.
    as far as Alex is concerned…. he was wrong. but then again, he is wrong.
    happy mother's day!!!!!

  4. I love you and you're amazing. Happy b-lated Mother's Day. I'm sending happy thoughts for your future your way! 🙂

    Sorry your mood that day was blah. My day was yuck, but only because I was sick. Same with v-day. Ugh.


  5. Happy belated Mother's Day 🙂 Marlowe will thank you one day I'm sure of it. You are an amazing mom, and when she grows up, if you end up sharing your blog with her, she will probably be ridiculously proud to have you as her mother. {I'm pregnant and crying at your post, thank you hormones!}. ~ Tessa {ourbeachbaby.com}

  6. i had a similar mother's day. It was pretty awful. I felt sad that I've had so many failed fertility treatments, sad that I don't have a mother who cares, just sad all around. Love you, sweets <3

  7. happy mothers day! you are right. you don't need a gift or a card, but sometimes that simple "thank you" could mean the world. and you deserve that. you are such a wonderful mother!! marlow is blessed.


  8. Beautiful pictures. Beautiful blog. Like you, I am a single mom. I felt every word you wrote. Those feelings are so real and so hard to write or say. Thank you for doing so!

  9. Drea, don't ever feel guilty for your feelings. Being a mother is hard work, especially at Marlowe's age. You will feel more appreciated by her around age 3, when they become good at expressing their undying affection and they stop constantly doing dangerous things:) You are an amazing woman and I have a feeling you will soon meet a man who will make you feel appreciated and supported in every way. Being a mother, for sure, is something special and you are doing a great job at it!

  10. I totally get what you're saying. This year was my first mother's day, and I was miserable. And I felt guilty about that. I'm totally with you here – I love being a mom more than anything in the world, but I hate all the unnecessary requirements that the holiday (and every other holiday) bring with it. An occasional "thank you" goes so much farther than any gift.

    I pat you on the back for being the mom you are to Marlowe. You're doing a wonderful job!

  11. Mother's Day full of complicated emotions. My horrible, selfish GRRR of a brother moved out the day before mother's day. After months of lying about his affair and who it was with. He then went sailing all day on Mother's Day.
    But the day is a hollow day for many of us who aren't mothers and so desperately want to be. The advertising is hard to hide from. Then people put up comments or photos on facebook that sting- Living without kids would mean you weren't living.
    The day is set by whom? And is it too forced? It just seems so unnatural….maybe I won't be so bitter about it next year.