I’ve found myself reflecting about the things we do as parents to make holidays special as I sit here on my deck watching my husband carve pumpkins. The kids have abandoned him for more exciting activities, and he and I are left here to finish the “tradition”. (Well, he is left here. I checked out of the job before it even started. Moral support is my jam.)

I realized how easy it is for us parents to lose the luster of the season amidst the details and nitty gritty adult things that needs to happen – like making sure the Halloween costumes come on time or forcing family photos when the kids are pooped on a Friday night because you need to get holiday cards out on time this year (Who does that? …Maybe me. Definitely me, tomorrow at 5:00). Or get stuck on things we feel like we “should” do with them – like carve pumpkins….

Last week we were discussing holiday plans, and I was sitting on the couch starting to reach full-on grump mode over figuring out whose house to be at which days on our Thanksgiving trip when my kids bounded into the room.

“I can’t wait to play with my cousins and sleep in the bed at grandma’s house!” they said, apparently overhearing me and my husband talking about the trip.

Having them interrupt my grumbly thoughts made me remember why we were doing this. Their energy was contagious, and I closed my eyes, picturing our whole family lounging in the cozy living room, watching the kids giggle and play. My crabbiness faded so fast, replaced by a genuine excitement to take a holiday road trip because I was able to release the pressure for a minute and focus on a few seconds of pure bliss that would be greeting us in a few weeks. 

Right, I thought, the details don’t matter to them. Time is of no concept when you’re young. One day is the same as a whole week to them. 

I have spent so much time trying to make everything fair and even and easy for us and everyone else. Trying to cater to maximizing time together and not wanting to “short” anyone that I forgot to live by the kid motto of “one is better than none”. Applies to cookies, juice boxes, time playing video games, and Christmas presents.

The sum doesn’t matter because anything is always better than nothing. One minute of aunt snuggles is better than none. One night a year of sleeping over with cousins is better than none. One quick hi-bye hug is better than missing that connection all together.

We live in a world of always wanting more, but learning to savor the little bitty seconds of connection is worth more than accumulating hours of disconnected time.

Five minutes of pure magic with family is worth more than ‘an extra day’ because we felt obligated.

A beautiful, nutritious meal around the family dinner table where no one is on their phones and we are all snorting with laughter as we recall hilarious inside jokes is worth more than an expensive dinner at a restaurant where we feel like we’re being too loud, constantly shushing the kids or reminding them to stay seated. 

A night of less sleep because the kids wanted to watch ‘just one more’ movie with grandma and grandpa and their cousins is worth more than being strict about my eight hours and regimented nighttime routine. 

We could all take a cue from the kids. They don’t care about the objective things – time, money, quantities, they imprint the feelings and sensations of the time together.

They only remember how it was so silly that daddy and grandpa made the pumpkins scream when they pulled the seeds out, not what intricate carving was on the pumpkins. 

How they always get to eat donuts at grandma’s house and pick out whichever one they want (and usually she lets them sneak a second one with a side of chocolate milk when we aren’t looking). 

How the house always smells like cinnamon rolls and coffee on Christmas morning while we have a PJ day and listen to Mariah Carey on repeat. 

The huge smile on their cousin’s face when they open the present they picked out especially for them. 

I can physically feel the stress, the pressure, the urgency melt away when I see the holidays through my kids. 

Be fully present in the moment, take in the sounds, smells, feel good emotions. I can still remember what it feels like to hug my grandma and the perfume she would wear, but I have no idea what she got me for Christmas when I was 10.

Remove the urgency of ‘there’s not enough time’. Fill the time you do get with presence and meaningful conversations.

Give kids the freedom to float through the holidays wherever their joy takes them, and traditions will be built organically.

So heeding my own advice, we will hop in the car in a few weeks, free from the pressure of a perfect holiday because being present will give us all we need. 

We will savor the minutes we are with family making each one special with magical simplicity. 

And as I finish my post today, I watch my three year old admiring her Elsa pumpkin. My husband just spent 30 minutes carving it for her expecting rave reviews, but instead he is greeted with her irritation that it doesn’t have feet. 

The moment entering the memory banks, imprinted by my laughter and her innocence. 

Sending you hugs, presence, and simple times this holiday season.

Traci xx