Every May, our feeds flood with brand messages that paint motherhood as perfection: breakfast in bed, handwritten cards, heartwarming tributes to mom. But after the social posts fade and the brunches wrap, reality resets. Moms often shoulder the mental load of an entire household like it’s CrossFit for the soul: scheduling appointments, coordinating pickups, even (ahem) planning their own Mother’s Day celebrations.
But this year, a different kind of Mother’s Day campaign broke through the noise: DoorDash’s “DoorDad.” The insight at the heart of the campaign rang true to hundreds of thousands of mothers (and fathers!) who hear “Mooooooom!” a million-ish times a day: Even in equitable, “50-50” parenting households, moms are often the default parent.
Backed by a 2023 Syracuse University study that found schools contact moms first even when dads are listed equally on forms, “DoorDad” flipped the script by acknowledging what Mom really needs is a break from the constant asks. So DoorDash put their money where its mouth is, moving beyond the clichés to actually help out—with flowers and a decision-free day.
The success of “DoorDad” points to a deeper cultural truth and an opportunity for brands. Why do we romanticize motherhood for one day a year, only to ignore the real, relentless labor moms carry the other 364? Why do we keep reinforcing rituals that literally do the least, while failing to challenge the systems that make motherhood feel unrelenting? (Of course it’s also joyous and beautiful and grounding, but the reluctance to acknowledge the other side is a cycle that many moms, like me, want to stop!)
Mother’s Day is now a $35 billion industry, making it one of the most commercially important holidays of the year. And yet, the lived reality for many moms is still shaped by what sociologists call “the second shift”—the unpaid, unacknowledged, and uninterrupted work of caregiving that often falls mostly on their shoulders. This isn’t just emotional, it’s economic; according to McKinsey, if unpaid care work were accounted for, it would be worth $10 trillion globally.
Father’s Day, too, deserves a reckoning. For years, it’s been a celebration of dad-joke mugs, BBQ aprons, and slapstick stereotypes. But what would it look like if brands treated Father’s Day not as a punchline, but as a call to show up? What if it became a platform to recognize and expand modern fatherhood, to push past outdated tropes and into a more honest and equal future?
There’s early evidence that this evolution in parental appreciation day marketing is gaining momentum. Brands like Dove Men+Care have championed paternity leave and Indian detergent Ariel highlighted dads confronting patriarchy through hands-on parenting. Others, like DoorDash, have used humor to surface hard truths that ask dads to do more. These moments hint at a future where marketing isn’t just reflective, but reformative.
Brands make human truths visible. And they have the power to normalize a new kind of parental celebration—one where motherhood isn’t synonymous with martyrdom and where fatherhood isn’t defined by lawn care and grill tools.
So as we cycle through another season of tributes and tie displays, let’s ask better questions. Not, “What should we get Mom?” but, “Why is she still getting called first?” Not, “What makes a good dad?” but, “What does celebrating fatherhood look like beyond corny jokes?” Brands have the opportunity to ask these questions through marketing, starting with Father’s Day, to paint a more aspirational vision of equitable parenting.
