The Calm Side of Christmas

When I was younger, I couldn’t wait for Christmas. I’d count down the days like it was a second birthday — and when Christmas Eve finally came, I never wanted it to end. That feeling… that cozy excitement that lived in the air… it’s something I still chase every December.

Then came adulthood — and motherhood — and for a while, that spark was still there. The excitement through my kids’ eyes made it all feel brand new again. But if I’m being honest, the magic has shifted. The lists have gotten longer (and more expensive), and sometimes it feels like the heart of the season is buried under expectations, sales, and scrolling.

Maybe it’s the world we’re living in. Maybe it’s the constant awareness that not everyone has a joyful holiday — that some are struggling just to get by. Maybe it’s because I’ve been back in my Bible lately and am starting to see things through a different lens. Let’s be real… it’s probably all of it.

These days, I find myself more stressed than joyful when the holidays roll around. And that’s the part that hurts most — because I remember what it used to feel like. The joy that came from simple things: the smell of food cooking all day, Christmas movies playing in the background, laughter over board games and bad karaoke. That used to be enough — and deep down, I know it still is.

So this year, I’m slowing down. I’m choosing the calm side of Christmas. Here’s how I’m doing it:

1. Only online shopping.
   I’m not fighting through crowds or parking lots this year. I’ll be in my robe with a chai tea in hand, clicking “add to cart” in peace.

2. Tacky décor only.
   I’ve spent years going for that Pinterest-perfect “aesthetic,” but this year I want the old-school 80s Christmas. The colorful lights, the mismatched ornaments, the plastic Santa that plugs into the wall — all of it.

3. Movie marathons and hot chocolate.
   There’s something about curling up with a blanket, watching my favorite nostalgic holiday movies, and sipping hot chocolate that takes me right back to being a kid.

4. Bake something.
   I don’t even care if it’s from a box — I just want the smell of cookies in the oven and music playing in the background.

5. Wrap early.
   This one’s big. No more wrapping gifts at 1 a.m. on Christmas Eve while watching Home Alone. I want to be done at least a week before so I can actually enjoy those final quiet days.

I’m really hoping for a beautiful Christmas this year — not the kind that looks perfect, but the kind that feels peaceful. The kind where the moments matter more than the money, and where the calm replaces the chaos.

Because maybe that’s what Christmas was always supposed to be — joy, simplicity, and the kind of stillness that lets you actually feel the love around you.