Holiday Chaos.

I started writing this specific blog in my notes app right after Easter this year. Of course, I was coming off the heels of a loooong holiday weekend jam-packed with festivities—so the emotions were high, and overstimulation was in the rear-view mirror. However, after a few weeks had gone by, I still stood by all the feelings I had in that moment, and I realized something important: this isn’t just about Easter. These emotions creep in around every holiday, even the smaller ones.

I probably don’t need to dive into the pressure that moms feel when it comes to holidays and special days. We already know. We ARE the holiday. We are Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Cupid, the birthday party coordinator, the family photographer, the memory keeper, and the emotional thermostat for the household. Even with a supportive partner (shout out to the dads and co-parents who show up), there’s still an unspoken responsibility that we feel to make things as magical as possible.

But here’s what I want to talk about—the part that gets under our skin and steals our joy without us even realizing it: the chaos that we can’t control. The time that dinner starts. The last-minute plan changes. The guilt-laced comments from others about skipping a tradition. The toys you asked grandparents not to buy that still end up under your tree. The passive-aggressive remarks about how they used to do things. The unhelpful comments when your toddler melts down after a sugar-fueled afternoon.

All of these moments, that are often tiny and indirect, pile up and suck out the magic you worked so hard to create.

If you're like me, the hardest stress to manage isn't in the things you want to do, like decorate your child’s door, or hide Easter eggs. It’s the things you can’t control. The unexpected attitudes, the pressure to keep everyone else happy, the feeling of being pulled in a dozen directions when you really just want to be with your kids and soak in the joy of the moment. Everyone always says, enjoy every moment, because you blink and they’re gone- yet many of those same people contribute to your inability to enjoy every moment. Personally, Holiday’s hold a lot of value for me. Mainly because I don’t have a lot of positive childhood memories when it comes to holidays or special occasions. Days that were supposed to be special were often ruined by the adults in my life, so I’m certainly not willing to bend and allow them to be ruined now. I think any parent who has a had a similar experience can relate to that.

I’m not an unrealistic person; I prepare for the chaos. I don’t expect healthy meals to be had and naps to be taken- it’s a Holiday. I can be flexible (although that wasn’t always the case). I often recall my oldest daughter’s very first Christmas, and how many tears there were, from me, not her. I had this picture-perfect vision in my head of how her first Christmas was going to go, and of course that’s NOT how it went. There were a lot of hiccups, and in the moment, I blamed everyone else’s behavior for ruining my night. But really, it was me that was allowing my daughter’s first Christmas Eve to be ruined with my ridiculously perfect expectations. After that I learned to let go and be more flexible.

What makes me upset in these moments more recently, is that it feels like the people around me don't see that I’m in a season of doing it all. Even those who have been through it themselves in the past. I’m raising tiny humans. I’m trying to create memories and build a foundation of love and connection. I’m balancing the mental load of parenting with traditions, expectations, and often, a deep desire to do things differently than how they were done before. Yet, I’m still expected to prioritize the feelings and expectations of grown adults.

We all know that most times, older relatives want holidays to look like their version of tradition. They want things done how they remember them. And while that's valid, it can feel suffocating when it doesn’t leave room for you to build your own traditions—ones that work for your family, your kids, your energy, and your peace. I am sure that I will 100% understand that desire when I am older and my kids are adults. Of course we want to carry on traditions that we created, there’s so much joy in that. I get it. However, as moms, we shouldn’t have to choose between keeping the peace and protecting our peace. Every Holiday season I have to remind myself that it’s okay to say “no.” It’s okay to leave early. It’s okay to not go at all. It’s okay to do holidays my way. It’s my turn.

I know that I am raising children who will one day have their own holiday memories, their own families, and their own boundaries. And the more we honor what we need in this season of life, the more we model something powerful for them: that their joy doesn’t have to come at the cost of their mental health.

To the family members and friends who ask other parents what they want their child to receive as a gift, who ask the couple with the child who still naps what time would be best for them to have dinner, who understand when you don’t want to spend your entire holiday in a car bouncing from house to house, who keeps their lips zipped when a parent plans something for their family that disrupts the plan they’ve created in their mind- THANK YOU! We see you, and we appreciate you.

If you're reading this and often feel overwhelmed, overstimulated, underappreciated, or just plain done after a family gathering or holiday—you're not alone and you're not a bad mom for feeling that way. You're a mom who’s doing a lot, and it’s okay to protect your peace. The magic doesn’t have to come from sacrifice. Read that again.

Give yourself the grace to make holidays meaningful—but also manageable. Make room for quiet joy, boundaries, and peace. That, too, is a tradition worth passing on.