It’s 2018. The air is getting cooler and I’m finally wearing my favorite sweatshirt that’s been tucked in the back of the closet since March. It’s officially pumpkin spice everything season and I am in heaven. I’m perusing Pinterest like it’s my job, looking for new holiday recipes, décor inspiration for my Christmas tree, and searching for new and elaborate family traditions to add to my already exhaustive list.
Back then, I was freshly postpartum with my second daughter and chasing around a toddler, while also juggling a full-time job and managing a chronic illness (hello, rheumatoid arthritis). I was already stretching myself far too thin. Once the excitement of my Pinterest binge faded, reality started to creep in, leaving me feeling defeated just thinking about all the things I wouldn’t have the energy to do that holiday season.
Fast forward to today—my girls are now eight and six, and we’ve added a little boy to the mix. I’m still working full-time, and though I’m finally in remission, my rheumatoid arthritis is something I still think about daily. I can’t help but look back on all the holidays over the years and feel guilty about all of the pressure and stress I put myself under. If I could go back in time and give myself advice on navigating the holiday season, here is what I would say:
Your energy is contagious.
As a mom with a chronic illness, I often wonder if I’m doing enough for my kids. Will they be the only ones who didn’t have mummy hot dogs, worm salad, and eyeball soup on Halloween? Will they feel left out when they hear friends talking about the 4th of July fireworks at the lake? I don’t always have the energy for elaborate holiday crafts and events, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel guilty about it.
One night, when my husband was out of town, I was exhausted and defeated. I mustered up as much enthusiasm as I could and asked my daughters, “Who wants cereal for dinner tonight?!” They shrieked with excitement, looking at each other as if they’d just won the lottery. “WE DO!” That moment taught me something important: my energy is contagious. If I can at least pretend to be excited, my kids will follow suit. During the holiday season, my version of “Who wants cereal for dinner?!” is “Who wants to have a Christmas Movie Night?!” Does mom love this movie or is she too tired to get off the couch? I guess we’ll never know!
Create a margin
Establishing a margin in your life can sound like a foreign concept, especially if you’re like me. To illustrate what creating a margin entails and its importance, I’ve included a brief excerpt from Richard Swenson, M.D.’s book, Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives.
Margin is the space between our load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. It is something held in reserve for contingencies or unanticipated situations. Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.
Margin is the opposite of overload. If we are overloaded, we have no margin. Most people are not quite sure when they pass from margin to overload. Threshold points are not easily measurable and are also different for different people in different circumstances. We don’t want to be under-achievers (heaven forbid!), so we fill our schedules uncritically. Options are as attractive as they are numerous, and we overbook.
If we were equipped with a flashing light to indicate “100 percent full,” we could better gauge our capacities. But we don’t have such an indicator light, and we don’t know when we have overextended until we feel the pain. As a result, many people commit to a 120 percent life and wonder why the burden feels so heavy. It is rare to see a life prescheduled to only 80 percent, leaving a margin for responding to the unexpected…*
As a mother with a chronic illness, establishing margins in my life is non-negotiable. I have learned to give myself extra time to complete tasks and give myself permission to say no to things that are not in the best interest of my health. This can be incredibly hard and inconvenient during the holidays in particular. Of course, everyone’s margin is going to look a bit different. Here are some ideas on how to create your margin this holiday season.
- Make a list of the activities you want to do this holiday season, and then put them in order of highest priority. This could even be a fun family activity. You might even discover that there are certain holiday activities that aren’t important to anyone in your family.
- Identify mandatory activities with concrete dates, and plan around those.
- Consider if other people in your support system can/ would want to take the lead on certain activities (maybe aunts and uncles would like to take the kids to the pumpkin patch this year, or grandma might want to take the lead on Christmas cookie baking.)
- Create a contingency plan before it becomes necessary. You can plan to spend all day making a homemade gingerbread house with your family, but life happens. Your kids get sick, you get sick, your chronic illness flares, and the list goes on. Have a backup plan (and a gingerbread house kit on hand) and give yourself permission to use it.
Eliminate Arbitrary Rules
I grew up in a home where the holidays meant fine china and formal place settings. Every dish was carefully baked, then transferred to beautiful serving bowls and platters. While the table always looked stunning, I also remember how much time and effort it took to set it and, later, to clean up. For years, I believed I had to do the same.
After hosting just a few family holidays—each one driving me to a near breakdown—I knew something had to change. I asked myself, “What can I do to make hosting enjoyable as a mom with a chronic illness?” For me, the answer was switching to disposable dinnerware and serving buffet-style—straight from the pan it was baked in (gasp!). And honestly, I am in favor of any swap that saves me time and preserves my (very limited) energy. I promise, no one will judge you for making a trusted family favorite in lieu of a tradition Thanksgiving dinner. Your kids will still love Christmas, even if their gifts are in bags. And trust me, New Year’s will come and go, even without an elaborate party.
Ask Yourself, “Why am I doing this?”
I don’t know how many times I have been stressing about getting something done, or complaining to my husband about my never-ending holiday to- do list, and then all the sudden it hits me, “Why am I even doing this?” My kids don’t really care if I get out every single box of holiday décor. They won’t notice if the pie at Thanksgiving comes from the grocery store. At the end of the day, all that really matters is that we are together and enjoying ourselves (even mom!) (Editor’s note: You can also use this idea as a parenting technique – check out our article on low-demand parenting!)
Stop Comparing Yourself to Others
This sounds easy enough, right? In the age of social media, this is easier said than done, and as a mother with a chronic illness, it can be especially hard. Everywhere I turn there is a fall bucket list with “100 must-do” activities for your family. Then there are the adorable ideas for classroom treats that will only cost you $762 and 12 hours of your time. Next, it’s the perfectly curated, esthetically pleasing holiday décor and tablescapes. Suddenly, our annual trip to the pumpkin patch and my “paper goods for the classroom party” slot doesn’t feel good enough, and our hand-me-down Christmas tree adorned with macaroni noodle art and Crayola inspired homemade ornaments has me feeling less than festive. In these moments I have to stop and remind myself that I am only seeing a small glimpse of someone else’s life, and it’s only the moments they want me to see. Every family’s holiday season looks different, whether it’s because of chronic illness, financial burdens, or strained familial relationships. I’m sure if you look deep enough, your family’s highlight reel would be just as beautiful.
Be Honest
My oldest is now eight, and she occasionally compares our family to her friends,’ especially around the holidays. I’ve always been honest with her about my energy and pain levels. Sometimes I simply have to tell her that I wasn’t feeling well enough to attend a certain event or activity. While I feel a certain degree of sadness in these moments, I try not to let shame creep in (or at least not let her see it). I am always amazed at the compassionate responses I get from my children when being honest with them about the limitations of my disease. As a mom with a chronic illness, it’s vital that I practice self-care and, in turn, teach my children the importance of taking care of themselves.
As I reflect on these past few years, it’s clear that the holiday season doesn’t have to be a source of stress and guilt, especially for those of us managing chronic illnesses. Instead, it can be a time of joy, creativity, and connection, tailored to our unique family dynamics. Embracing simplicity, honesty, and the importance of self-care has transformed my approach to the holidays.
This holiday season, I encourage you to prioritize what truly matters. Let go of perfection, focus on creating meaningful moments, and remember that your energy sets the tone for your family’s joy. Whether it’s a cozy movie night or a simple meal, cherish the time spent together. After all, the essence of the holidays lies not in extravagant traditions but in the love and laughter shared with those we hold dear. Here’s to a holiday season filled with grace, gratitude, and plenty of room to breathe.
* Swenson, Richard MD. Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives. The Navigators, 2014. Pg 86-87.
