How to Simplify Your Holiday Season to Make Room for What Really Matters
As we were climbing into bed last night (at 8:30 pm, because we’re officially old and also exhausted), Tim said to me, “We really grabbed Christmas by the balls this weekend.”
Jingle bells, honey. We grabbed it by the jingle bells. Where’s your damn holiday spirit?
Offcolor imagery aside, we did just that.
In the span of three days, we took Christmas card photos. We walked the local festival of holiday lights. We picked out a tree and got it home in one piece despite a close call on the drive. We trimmed it to the nines — or maybe the elevens — with so many lights and ornaments, I don’t know how it’s standing upright. Easton read every single Christmas book to himself (all 29 of them). Sawyer didn’t nap once because “it’s Cwiss-miss, Mommy!!!” We braved the drizzle to adorn the front of our house with every outdoor strand of lights we own, and I used the Black Friday sale excuse to snag a couple of new outdoor decorations coming later this week.
As I was unpacking the many Rubbermaids of holiday bric-a-brac amid these many festive tasks, I happened to unwrap the framed photos of holidays past: our first Christmas in our house. Our first with Easton. Sitting on Santa’s lap. Building a snowman. We don’t always put these frames out, because it seems odd to display photos of life when Sawyer wasn’t yet. But the warm fuzzy trip down memory lane reminded me exactly why I love the holidays. There’s nothing I look forward to more than making these sacred family memories each year.
And it hit me:
If the holidays aren’t bringing you joy, you’re doing something wrong.
I know the holidays have become a time of more, of stress, of excess. There are bucket lists and pop-up bars, classic family traditions and new ones waiting to be discovered. There’s always something to do — or more accurately, there’s always something else to be done.
If on December 2nd you’re already feeling massively overwhelmed and maybe even Grinch-like, it’s time to take a look beyond the tinsel and see what lies in your heart.
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How to Simplify Your Holiday Season
Use the KonMari approach when decorating: If you touch it and you don’t feel that spark of joy, it’s done. Put it back in storage, or on Facebook Marketplace, or in the Goodwill pile, or in the trash — but don’t waste another minute trying to find a place for something that doesn’t hold magic for you.
Apply the same ruthless mindset when planning your celebrations and events. If there’s dread in the pit of your stomach when you add it to your Google calendar, don’t add it. Turn down invitations that will send you over the edge. Avoid unnecessary over-scheduling that turns you into a mombie and your kids into hellions. No one needs the Nutcracker AND the Polar Express AND Santa’s workshop in the same weekend, let alone the same day.
It’s hard to say no. It’s hard to disappoint loved ones. It’s hard to be selfish and make the choice that’s right for you or for your family. But mama, it’s necessary. This time of year, it’s straight-up survival.
Here’s my short list of what’s bringing me joy in December:
1. Visiting the Cosley Zoo Festival of Lights and picking out our Christmas tree as a family, then unwrapping all our favorite ornaments and decorating the tree to all my favorite Christmas songs on repeat (check this one off the list ✅)
2. Wandering the incredible FREE lights at Lilacia Park in Lombard
3. Making the trek to the Chicago Botanic Gardens for the new Lightscape holiday event
4. Bringing back good old Ralph, our elf on the shelf, because Christmas is for the kids and the real magic of the holidays is right here at home
5. Having the lightbulb moment of a simplified Christmas Day pajama brunch at my house — yes to mimosas, no to four kinds of breakfast casserole for eight people
Of course, there will be other holiday parties in the mix there too … some I enjoy once I’m there, and some I’d much rather make an excuse to get out of. In the situations where you can’t say no outright, find a compromise instead. (See “pajama brunch” above.)
Come for appetizers instead of appetizers-dinner-dessert-after dinner drinks. Decline to participate in the white elephant gift exchange. And for goodness sake, bring a store-bought contribution if cooking or baking doesn’t bring you genuine joy. At my children’s daycare holiday party, Chicken McNuggets are the most popular appetizer, not my kinda healthy/kinda not, kinda fancy/kinda not, homemade cucumber sandwiches.
Every year since #DoneWithFun Daddy and I started dating, I have dragged my boys (one, two or all three of them) to three different Christmas celebrations in 24 hours. By the time we make it to Christmas Day dinner with my husband’s family, we’ve attended a minimum of seven Christmas parties throughout December. No wonder the boys alternate between “hot mess express” and “catatonic” by then. It’s not fair to anyone.
Simplifying is the key. It makes space for joy — genuine joy — rather than forced joy squeezed into the cracks and crevices of an overfull life.
So, with much careful thought and hard choices, here’s the abbreviated version of what has to go this year to make space for joy (I won’t bore you with the exhaustive list, just give you enough examples that you get the idea):
1. Fit in a trip to the Museum of Science and Industry to see the Christmas Trees Around the World. Yes, the holidays are my favorite time to visit MSI but I’m not forcing the issue at the expense of my sanity this year.
2. Keep the kids out late for Morton Arboretum Illuminations. We’ve done it before and we loved it — but we don’t have to do it every year. Alternating activities can make them more magical.
3. A marathon cookie baking day with the boys. Before kids, this day of baking brought me joy. Now, it’s a whirlwind of joy, frustration, and sprinkles everywhere. Maybe we’ll decorate store-bought gingerbread kits, maybe not. Maybe I’ll get around to baking at all, maybe not. But the list of eight different cookies I used to bake yearly? Torn up into confetti and sprinkled like snow.
4. Force an evening of driving around to see lights and drink hot cocoa. Last year, the boys were bored after about four minutes and Sawyer fell asleep at the last minute, to catastrophic fallout. I for one won’t miss manically pointing out the window and trying to summon enthusiasm that just doesn’t exist from my kids.
5. Wrapping every gift like I’m a personal shopper getting paid the big bucks. I love pretty paper, bows, ribbons, and gift tags … but I also love the time and money saved by plopping that gift into a regifted gift bag and fluffing some red or green tissue around it.
As I mentally edit my holiday plans with sweeping slashes of a red pen, my 2019 mantra is flashing like a neon sign in my head: More basic, less extra.
That’s how I’m doing the holidays this year. That’s how I’m finding joy. And I’m holding onto that joy by letting go of guilt, shame, the weight of other people’s judgment, and the spirit-crushing push for perfectionism.
With only 26 days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there’s simply no time on my calendar — or in my life — for those things anymore.
Wishing you the wonder of the season, now through the New Year. And all of the joy, in whatever form it takes for you. 💜
What’s the one holiday tradition you’ll never give up? Share in the comments below or with #NeverDoneWithFun on social media. Keep following on Instagram, Facebook, and Pinterest for more ideas and inspiration for navigating the chaos of parenting with grace and gratitude.
