Sunday has always been a day of contradictions. It starts with the slow, golden morning, where the world feels gentle and forgiving. But by the afternoon, the weight of Monday starts creeping in. For years, I wrestled with the Sunday Scaries—that creeping anxiety that signals the end of the weekend and the beginning of responsibilities waiting on the other side of midnight. But now, as a mom, my Sundays have taken on a new shape. There’s still a bit of that old feeling, but I’ve found ways to soften it, to make space for both preparation and joy, and to create a rhythm that doesn’t feel like the abrupt crash of reality that Sundays once did.

Before I became a mom, my Sundays were split between two extremes. Either I spent the whole day in a last-ditch effort to have as much fun as possible before Monday, or I let the anxiety win and spent the day sulking, feeling like I was already drowning in the week ahead before it had even started. It was hard to find a middle ground. Sundays always carried this weight of lost time, of unfinished to-do lists, of looming responsibilities that I had successfully ignored on Saturday. The clock felt like an enemy, ticking down to an inevitable end.

Now, my Sundays look different, not just because I have a little one to care for, but because I’ve learned to reframe the day. It’s no longer the frantic last hurrah of the weekend or the prelude to stress; it’s a day to set the tone for the week ahead while still soaking up the beauty of a weekend well spent. The biggest shift? I try to embrace Sunday rather than escape it.

Mornings are sacred in our home. I used to sleep in as late as possible, trying to prolong the weekend by sheer willpower. Now, I wake up early, not out of obligation, but because the world is quiet, and I get a few stolen moments before the day begins in earnest. My son’s giggles replace the blaring alarm, and even though I may still crave those extra minutes of sleep, I wouldn’t trade this slow, soft start to the day for anything.

Instead of dreading the week ahead, I’ve started using Sundays to ease into it. I used to believe that weekends should be a complete break from thinking about work, but now I see that a little gentle preparation on Sunday makes Monday feel far less jarring. I’ll do simple things—tidy up the spaces that got chaotic over the weekend, glance at my schedule so I’m not blindsided when I open my laptop, maybe even make a rough meal plan so I’m not caught off guard come Tuesday night. But I keep it light, intentional. It’s not about cramming productivity into the last hours of the weekend; it’s about setting myself up for a smoother week so that Monday doesn’t feel like a freefall into chaos.

I also make it a point to include something fun in every Sunday. When you’re balancing work, parenting, and all the little things in between, it’s easy to let weekends slip into pure responsibility mode. Errands, laundry, meal prep—it can quickly become just another workday in disguise. But I want my son to grow up loving Sundays, not dreading them the way I used to. So we go to the park, take a slow morning walk, or have pancakes for breakfast. Even if the day includes some practical preparation for the week, it also includes joy. It’s a day to reset, yes, but it’s also a day to live fully in the present.

One of the hardest things about Sundays, at least for me, has always been the way they make you reflect. It’s easy to spend the day looking back on the weekend, either feeling guilty for not being productive enough or wishing you had done more of the things you love. And then there’s the looking forward, the way Sunday makes you think about all that’s ahead—the deadlines, the meetings, the endless to-do lists. But the trick, I’ve learned, is to find a way to sit in the present. Not drowning in the weight of Monday, not lost in nostalgia for Saturday, but fully in the moment of Sunday itself.

That’s why I’ve started treating Sundays as a day of grounding. I give myself permission to slow down. I embrace little rituals—lighting a candle in the evening, making a cup of tea, reading a few pages of a book. I’ve found that when I create a Sunday that feels whole and intentional, rather than just an anxiety-ridden countdown to Monday, I start the week feeling steadier, rather than scrambling to catch up before the workweek even begins.

I still get the Sunday Scaries sometimes. I still feel that little twinge of anxiety when the sun starts to set and the weekend winds down. But I’ve stopped letting it steal my entire day. I remind myself that Monday is just another day, not some insurmountable obstacle. And I remind myself that Sunday is mine to shape however I want. Whether it’s an adventure with my son, a quiet moment with a book, or a little bit of preparation to make the week ahead feel smoother, Sundays no longer feel like something to escape. They feel like a gift—a bridge between rest and routine, a chance to slow down and savor what’s left of the weekend while setting myself up to walk into Monday with a little more peace.