The Reality Of Balancing the Holidays as a Busy Mom

It’s late, the house is finally quiet, and this is the first moment all day where I’ve actually been able to breathe. The Christmas tree is lit, the lights are soft, and everything looks peaceful; but this time of year has always carried a heaviness for me that sits quietly beneath the surface.

Boxing Day is one day that will always mean more to me than sales and leftovers. It’s the day my step-mom passed away, and no matter how many years go by, December itself still holds that grief. Back then, I didn’t have the space to process it. I was surviving. I was holding everything together. I didn’t get time to grieve properly, and like so many other losses in my life, I learned how to tuck it away and keep going. That kind of grief doesn’t disappear, it waits. And it tends to resurface during the quiet moments, especially during the holidays.

At the same time, life doesn’t slow down just because your heart feels heavy. As moms, we’re still expected to show up, keep the magic alive, and somehow make everything feel joyful for everyone else. Sometimes I wonder how moms everywhere manage to do it all this time of year, and I don’t mean the Pinterest version of Christmas. I mean the real version. The one where you’re working, answering emails between school drop-offs, mentally tracking who you’ve bought gifts for and who you haven’t, and hoping you remember which store you still need to stop at before everything sells out.

It’s baking, wrapping gifts, school concerts to attend, spirit days you forgot about until the night before, and a home that still needs to function, all while trying to stay emotionally present so the holidays still feel magical for your kids. Oh, and don’t forget, Elf on the Shelf shows up too… And somewhere in the middle of all that, you’re also supposed to find time for yourself. Sometimes that looks like ten quiet minutes with a glass of wine, sitting alone in a dark living room with nothing but the glow of the Christmas tree lights and your thoughts.

The truth is, being a mom at Christmas isn’t just cozy moments and cute traditions. It’s a mental checklist that never shuts off. It’s remembering everything for everyone. It’s carrying the emotional weight of the entire season while also carrying your own memories, losses, and feelings that don’t pause just because it’s December.

It’s not that we don’t love it. We do. We love their excitement. We love the magic. We love being the ones who create these memories. But making that magic takes an incredible amount of emotional, physical, and mental energy. And when you’re already running on a low mental load, when you’re quietly grieving, healing, or just exhausted… it can feel like too much.

That’s why I’m choosing to slow down.

This year, I’m giving myself permission to do only what I can. Permission to say no to things that don’t bring peace. Permission to buy premade cookies instead of baking everything from scratch. Permission to let go of traditions that feel forced and hold onto the ones that feel meaningful. Permission to ask for help and choose calm over chaos, even if no one else understands.

Because my kids don’t need a perfect Christmas. They don’t need every tradition done exactly right. They need a present mom. A mom who isn’t running on fumes. A mom who can sit on the couch, watch a Christmas movie, cuddle under a blanket with hot chocolate, and not be mentally checked out thinking about the ten things waiting behind her.

So this Christmas, I’m choosing balance. I’m honouring my grief instead of pushing it down. I’m doing what I can, letting go of what I can’t, and creating magic where it truly matters; not everywhere at once.

And if you’re reading this late at night, sitting in your own quiet house with a busy mind and a full heart, please know this: you’re not alone. You’re carrying more than anyone sees. You’re making magic in ways that don’t get noticed. And you are already doing more than enough.

You’re allowed to enjoy this holiday season too, mama… not just survive it.