Making the Holidays Magical



Tis the season of unreasonable high parenting expectations.

I put pressure on myself all year to create the “perfect” magical childhood for my two young daughters. But once the air turns crisp and cool and the sunsets literally arrive when I am still at work, my heart starts to beat a little faster as I think about my mount Everest of holiday prep. From elves to cookies, donations to Santa pictures, setting up lights and teaching the reason for the season, there just seems to be so much we must do as moms to make the holidays magical. Yes, I just went there… I pulled out the M card. I meant to type MOM and not parents.

Because I feel like it falls on us ladies to make the holidays so special and magical. To truly create the magical memories that make this season so special and yet so time consuming and exhausting. I mean when did reindeer food become a thing? My brothers and I always left some moldy carrots on our chipped Santa plate and called it a day. I am not even judging the reindeer food trend, there is a bag of oats and glitter in my house waiting to be sprinkled on my lawn… driveway?… Where do you leave out reindeer food? I guess the roof would be best? And even though the bag of food is placed on our dining room table along with wrapping paper, ribbon, tape, used tissues and more… my husband probably has no idea what I am even talking about.

When will the holiday madness stop? And I am right there in the thick of it. Did you know that our weekends are so scheduled this December that I could not even find time to take the girls to go see the Nutcracker? And then I got all sad about missing out on sugar plum fairies. Our girls are 5 and 3 people… I am not even sure they could sit through a performance or truly enjoy the magic of the Nutcracker and the lady with the big skirt with all the children that come scampering out (totally my fav part)… Another reference my husband probably has NO idea about.

We don’t even do elf on the shelf, blasphemy I know. My kids are totally confused about the whole Santa vs. Jesus thing. The other night when we read Away in The Manger as a bedtime story, my daughter thoughtful asked if baby Jesus had two dads Joseph and God. I said yes and went on to read Santa to Claus is coming to Town.

dsc_0339Now, you could all say STOP. STOP the holiday madness! No one needs to make homemade ginger bread houses and 3 years olds are not impressed by going to see the tree in Time square. The holidays are magical all on their own and we are simply creating more work for ourselves.

 The truth is… wait for it…. You can probably see where this is going… I LOVE IT. I love that it is my responsibility to weave these magical moments for my daughters. I daydream about them passing down our holiday traditions to their families. I love combining my husband’s favorite holiday traditions with mine to create OURS. Christmas pajamas are the JAM and I would proudly wear them in July.

Next week we are going into the city with the girls. It is my idea and my husband has graciously taken it on. I am keeping my expectations LOW, preparing for the worst, and hoping for the best, because tis the season for unreasonable parenting expectations but it is also the season of MAGIC!



How do you make the holidays magical?

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Nikki has called wonderful Fairfield County her home, her entire life. Growing up on a campus of a private school in Greenwich, CT Nikki swore to her educator parents that she would never be a teacher. Well life has a way of repeating itself and now Nikki and her amazingly supportive husband are happily working at a different independent school in Greenwich. A recovering “type a” perfectionist she is learning to let go of her color coding, alphabetizing ways and embrace the mess. Helping her enjoy life’s everyday messes are her two precocious girls Sofie (11/15/11) and Keira (9/7/13). Nikki loves all things mommy cliché including but not limited to walks on the beach, running, reality TV, organizing closets, wine, chocolate and having her kids help her out in the kitchen.


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