The day after Christmas always feels like waking up from a sugar-and-chaos-induced haze. The house is a wreck, the trash bags are overflowing with torn wrapping paper, and the kids are either fighting over toys or already bored with them. It’s the perfect time to ask: What are we doing?
Momma, I see you. You spent weeks stressing over gifts, decor, meals, and making the holidays “perfect.” And now you’re sitting in the aftermath, already wondering how you’ll top it next year. But let’s be real: was any of it worth it? Did we actually celebrate joy, or did we just buy into the consumerism trap yet again?
We fell into it ourselves this year, I won’t lie. The Mister worked through some holiday trauma and enjoyed Christmas for the first time since he was a kid, so he went all out spoiling the babies. Having all six of our kids together on the farm for the first time in years? That felt monumental, so we celebrated big. And we also tried to make up for the rougher halves of some of the kids’ family situations.
What we didn’t anticipate was the fallout. Financial strain while I’m out of work with the new baby. Contention between the middle kids because one was a last-minute addition, and we couldn’t get matching gifts here in time. It’s humbling to realize how easily our good intentions turned into stress and conflict.
What’s ironic is that I wanted a simple Christmas this year. Decor? We let the kids handle the tree. It’s mostly bare except for a two-foot section crammed with ornaments. Is it Pinterest-perfect? Not even close. But they had fun, and that matters way more than aesthetics.
Meals? Let’s just say they weren’t straight from the farm. Frozen store-bought turnovers for breakfast and lunch, frozen pizza for dinner. Not exactly the kind of wholesome, nutrient-rich meals we usually aim for here, but you know what? Sometimes survival mode wins. With six kids, a revolving door of adults, and a newborn who’s basically glued to me for feedings, convenience was the best option.
I’m not saying this is the ideal. We built our farm and our business on the belief that food matters—what we eat fuels not just our bodies but our lives. But sometimes, balance is about knowing when to let go of perfection. Choosing convenience for one day meant I could be fully present for my kids’ Christmas, and that matters more than the menu. It’s a reminder that even when we prioritize health and sustainability, there’s room for grace.
But let’s talk about the gifts. Most of the cheap plastic toys we buy won’t last until February. And when they break or get tossed aside, where do they end up? In a landfill. Is that the legacy we want to leave? A life of excess, waste, and temporary highs? Or do we want to raise kids who value creativity, gratitude, and resourcefulness?
For 2025, let’s make a promise to ourselves and our kids. Instead of buying into the chaos, let’s create traditions that celebrate connection and meaning. Start with this: take some time this week to go through the house with your kids and pick out a few things to donate. Talk about why we don’t need to hold onto stuff to feel joy.
Then, skip the after-Christmas sales. Stay home. Play a board game, make hot cocoa, or just sit and watch a movie together. Let’s end this holiday season with less chaos, less stuff, and a whole lot more meaning.
Because when we stop and really think about it, joy doesn’t come from what’s under the tree. It comes from the people around it.
Until next time,
Traci
