🌿 Navigating the Holidays: Boundaries, Grace, and the Beauty of Family Time

As our family grows, the holidays feel sweeter… and harder to navigate. This season, I’m learning how to honor our people while still protecting the peace in our home. Maybe you’re learning that too.

This has been heavy on my heart ever since we had our first born, Hughes. This week, I was talking to a friend who told me she has eight Christmas gatherings to attend (and she doesn’t even have little kids yet). If Austin and I were able to make it to every one of ours, we’d have ten.

I’m not sharing this in a negative light — honestly, I love it. I love family time. I love getting together with the people who mean the most to us.

But the truth is… it just isn’t realistic.

Different sides of the family, drive time, jobs, scheduling conflicts — and I know the people who love us understand that we can’t attend everything.

It’s me who struggles.

It’s my heart that hurts when we have to miss something.

It’s simply me saying:

I’m sad we can’t do it all. And I’m sorry.

The older I get — and the more kids we add to the mix — the more I realize the holidays aren’t just about traditions. They’re about balance. They’re about choosing what brings peace to your home, while still honoring the people who shaped you.

No one prepares you for the moment you start building your own family and suddenly the holidays… shift. The traditions that once filled your cup now stretch you thin. Schedules tighten, expectations grow, and somewhere in the middle, you’re trying to protect the joy the holiday's bring.

This year, I’m learning that it’s okay for the holidays to look different than they used to.

It’s okay to choose slow over busy.

It’s okay to choose intentional over expected.

And it’s okay to choose your little family first — without guilt.

This season of life is simply hard to navigate. We’re adding more people and more families into the mix, and it’s difficult to remember there are others on the receiving end of our choices.

Becoming a parent forces you to see the holidays in a new light. Suddenly it's not just about where you want to be — it’s about naps, over-stimulation, routines, long drives, and little hearts that get overwhelmed easily.

And here’s the truth (even though I don’t like it at all):

Not every event fits your season.

Not every tradition aligns with your peace.

Not every expectation needs to be met.

Saying “we can’t make it this year” doesn’t mean we love anyone less.

I’m learning that boundaries shouldn't push people away — they simply make space for healthier, happier moments when you are together.

Even with boundaries, there’s a deeper awareness of how precious family time really is. The holidays remind us that time is a gift — one we don’t get back.

The older I get, the more I treasure the moments:

• Sitting around a table with the people who helped raise me.

• Watching my boys play with cousins.

• Seeing Austin laugh like he’s a kid again.

• Slow mornings, shared meals, and the comfort of familiar voices.

There’s a tenderness to these memories — a gratitude for the people who have loved us through every season. Protecting our peace doesn’t mean shutting anyone out. It means showing up in ways that feel genuine, present, and intentional.

My great-grandma is 90 years old. Since I can remember, Christmas Day with her has been a priority. It’s pure chaos — loud, messy, hilarious — and those memories are the ones that wrap around me when I think back to childhood holidays.

I can still feel the love in that room.

The giddiness of opening presents and playing games.

The laughter we share when someone makes a  witty comment.

The comfort of being surrounded by the ones who mean the most to you.

And the deep appreciation Grandma has seeing her legacy gathered right in front of her.

These Christmases have dwindled in size over the years, especially as new families form and new traditions begin. Since Austin and I got married, the most logical plan has been alternating every other Christmas with his family and mine.

In my head, I know it’s reasonable.

But in my heart… I long for a world where I didn’t have to miss a single holiday with either family.

That’s when I remind myself:

New traditions don’t replace the old ones — they blend with them, creating a story that feels both familiar and entirely yours.

Some of my favorite holiday memories aren’t extravagant. They’re simple — the kind of simple that lets your heart rest.

Matching pajamas.

Hot chocolate after bath time.

A Christmas movie we repeat way too many times.

Letting the boys “help” decorate the tree (a true sight).

If you’re entering the holidays feeling stretched thin, overwhelmed, or unsure of how to balance it all — you’re not alone.

Give yourself grace as you navigate family dynamics.

Give your kids grace as they get overstimulated.

Give others grace when your choices don’t make sense to them and vise versa.

Give this season grace to look different than it used to.

The holidays are not about perfection.

They’re about presence.

And sometimes the most loving thing you can do is slow down, breathe, and protect your peace.

You are allowed to choose what your family needs.

You are allowed to say “yes” when it feels right, and “no” when it doesn’t.

You are allowed to grow, shift, and change.

And through it all — family time still matters.

Maybe more now than ever.

This season, I’m choosing balance…

Boundaries with love.

Traditions with meaning.

And family time that feels warm, present, and real.

If this is the season you’re in too — I’m right there with you. 💛