Saying ‘No’ to Social Media Pressure of Baby’s First Holiday
When you become a parent in the age of social media, every holiday can feel like a professional photoshoot. You’re expected to showcase your baby’s milestones in seasonal outfits, create elaborate backdrops, and document it all like you’re managing a marketing campaign instead of just raising a tiny human.
“Baby’s first” Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and even National Donut Day is now manufacture and packaged for followers. But most of it isn’t for you or the baby. It’s for the audience. Because of influencer-driven parenting, new moms and dads have more stress than the generation before.
We don’t need the weight of expectation for people who aren’t living your life.
In this article:
When Holidays Become Performances
The Cost of “Firsts” Nobody Asked For
Social Media’s Grip on Parents
Redefining What “Memorable” Really Means
Letting Joy Replace Pressure
When Holidays Become Performances
The new parent holiday checklist now looks something like this:
Find or make a themed outfit that’s both cute and “appropriate” (good luck).
Stage a photo backdrop that could rival a department store window.
Edit and post photos within 24 hours or risk missing your algorithmic moment.
Brace yourself for unsolicited parenting critiques in the comments.
Take my son’s first Halloween, for example. He was four months old; too little for candy and completely oblivious to the concept of spooky season. Yet there I was, wondering what does baby’s first Halloween looked like.
I wasn’t about to waste money on a costume he’d outgrow before the tag came off. My best friend suggested the classic photo of a baby sitting inside a carved pumpkin, so I gave in.
He was stoic, at best. His expression mimicked what I knew was true, “This is dumb, mom.” And when I shared the photo, the response was the opposite of what I expected.
“It’s too cold to have him outside.”
“Poor baby.”
“Put some clothes on him.”
Never mind that we live in Tennessee, and he was perfectly comfortable in the warm autumn sunlight. People were more concerned with the optics than the reality. And that’s when it hit me: these moments weren’t about our kids at all—they were about performing parenthood for an invisible crowd.
I was trying to survive the first year of marriage with a new baby. I didn’t need to make sure my socials had cute photos.
The Cost of “Firsts” Nobody Asked For
There’s something almost comical about how much money and energy parents are expected to pour into “firsts” their babies will never remember.
Marketers know exactly how to get us. They prey on that mix of guilt and love, using secret ad tricks designed to make moms spend more; “memory-making” slogans and emotional imagery that tugs just enough at your heartstrings to open your wallet.
Every store has a “Baby’s First” section whispering that if you really love your baby, you’ll buy the matching outfit, the milestone ornament, the special keepsake box. But these purchases come with a hidden cost: not just money, but time, energy, and mental load.
What that looks like in real life:
One study found that 42% of parents may spend up to two hours to get the "perfect shot."
Parents spend an average of about $168 on holiday gifts for babies 12 months and younger, which is slightly higher than the average for children aged 1-4.
Emotional exhaustion from comparing your real life to someone else’s highlight reel.
Holidays are supposed to be about connection, slowing down, and soaking up time with the people you love. But the commercialized version we’re sold is more about how we look than what we do.
And it’s not even new. The influencer culture just industrialized what older generations already hinted at… showing off your life for approval. The difference is now, the stage is global and the pressure relentless.
Social Media’s Grip on Parents
We’ve reached a point where not posting feels like failure. There’s an unspoken pressure to “prove” you’re enjoying your baby’s firsts, as if silence equals neglect. Family, friends, and even strangers will nudge you: “Where’s the Easter picture?” “Did you take him to see Santa?” “You have to post that!”
The idea that validation equals value. Here’s what social media has done to modern parenthood:
Turned memories into marketing material.
Made authenticity look like a costume.
Convinced parents that love needs to be documented to count.
Rewarded aesthetics over connection.
But let me be clear; I’m not telling you not to take pictures or videos. Take them. You’ll want those memories later. Share them with your family, print them, cherish them. Just don’t do it for the internet. Don’t pose your kids for likes. Let them exist in the moment. Let yourself be in the moment.
Because when you strip away the performative pressure, the photos start to mean something again. They become keepsakes instead of content. And that shift (doing it for yourself instead of your audience) is how you reclaim your peace as a parent.
Redefining What “Memorable” Really Means
There’s a childhood memory that stands out. My mother’s ultra-religious family got together one spring in the early 1990s for the classic multi-generation photo. Picture crying babies, fidgeting kids, and adults trying to not look like their screaming as the shutter clicks.
Each of my mom’s sisters dressed their families in matching outfits. The girls wore hand-made church-style dresses while the boys and dads had ties made from the same fabric. Like some kind of family camouflage.
We were the only ones who were mismatched. And yet, we looked the nicest. My mom wore a smart, modern-for-the-time black and white dress, dad in one of his best suits, and me in a fun and age-appropriate blue and white dress. We wore what we liked and looked like a normal family, not mannequins.
So, when I see matching family outfits thirty years later, I can’t help but laugh. This trend isn’t new. It’s just been recycled, rebranded, and filtered to look aspirational. Seeing it again, this time coming from influencer moms instead of my zealot relatives, makes me realize how unoriginal it’s always been.
Real memories are made when:
You skip the photoshoot and just enjoy the day.
You laugh when the baby spits up on the “special outfit.”
You eat the cookies before decorating them.
You stop worrying about everyone smiling at the same time.
The first holidays are special because you’re there. Because your baby is growing, thriving, and loved. Whether there’s a bow on their head or not doesn’t change that.
Letting Joy Replace Pressure
Maybe “Baby’s First” doesn’t need to mean “Baby’s Best.” Maybe it just means their first.
We could all use a little less spectacle. Imagine if the focus shifted from perfect photos to peaceful moments. What if instead of capturing joy, we actually felt it?
Ways to make holidays simpler and more joyful:
Choose one small tradition that feels authentic, not performative.
Take photos for your own keepsake, not for social media approval.
Resist comparison. Someone else’s version of “special” doesn’t have to be yours.
Give yourself permission to do less.
Your baby doesn’t need themed outfits, a custom hashtag, or matching family PJs to feel loved. They need your face lighting up when they smile, your arms around them, your voice singing off-key. That’s the memory that lasts.
So, the next time a holiday rolls around, take the pressure off. Skip the expectations, silence the noise, and remember: you’re raising a human, not curating a catalog.
