Notes By Kae

This year, I wanted a balanced Christmas.
And if I’m being honest, it doesn’t quite feel that way.

Life feels heavier than it used to, and navigating the holidays while raising a small child has made me rethink everything I thought Christmas was supposed to look like. The lights, the gifts, the pressure to make it magical in all the ways social media tells us it should be—it can be overwhelming when you’re already trying to maneuver real life.

This season has reminded me that Christmas doesn’t have to look one specific way to be meaningful.

I’m learning that we’re allowed to reinvent how we celebrate, especially when our capacity changes. Especially when life feels tender. Especially when we’re doing the best we can with what we have.

There’s a quiet guilt that can creep in when we can’t give our children everything we think we’re supposed to—more gifts, more decorations, more extravagance. But I’m starting to believe that what they need most isn’t more things. It’s presence. It’s warmth. It’s consistency. It’s love that feels safe.

We don’t have to measure Christmas by how much we spend or how perfect it looks.
We can measure it by how it feels.

This year, I’m choosing a Christmas built on moments instead of materials. On slowing down instead of doing more. On creating traditions that fit our life as it is right now—not as it once was, or as we wish it could be.

Maybe that looks like simple mornings, shared meals, familiar songs, or quiet routines that bring comfort instead of chaos. Maybe it looks different every year—and that’s okay.

We’re allowed to create our own version of Christmas.
One that reflects our reality.
One that honors our limits.
One that feels gentle instead of forced.

And we don’t have to feel guilty about that.

If you’re navigating the holidays with less energy, fewer resources, or a heart that’s carrying a lot—this is your reminder that you’re not doing it wrong. You’re just doing it your way.

And sometimes, that’s the most meaningful tradition of all.

---