Earlier this week, I devoted my outdoor walk to some brain space to reflect upon the wrap-up of our 2025-2026 holiday break and celebrations. Kendra Adachi, the Lazy Genius, notes that it is important to have opening and closing ceremonies for life events, and in some small way, I wanted to close out this season by reflecting on the highs and lows. In doing so, this practice allows me to make some connections, manage expectations for future holidays, and find gratitude for what was. I thought I would share some highlights of that thinking session in case it is helpful for others.

The Holidays are Emotionally and Logistically Complex

I’ll caveat what I’ll say about this complexity with the admission that our circumstances of frequent relocations add a distinct layer to all of this for our family. Regardless of where you may find yourself living, this time of year can feel both emotionally and logistically complex.

I want to honor old traditions where possible. I want to maximize time with my kids. I want them to have the lowest lift of traveling, driving, and getting from one place to the next, while Ryan and I take on the bulk of the driving. I want everyone to enjoy themselves and find that time together is worth the effort.

I want it to be fun. I want us to perform all of the established rituals, participate in all of the old traditions, and also have a variety and novelty of new experiences together. I want there to be peace in the home. I want safety for everyone. Basically, I want control and a cosmic promise that we are all going to enjoy the time without any difficulty or too much hardship.

There’s no way I could be disappointed with those expectations, right? 😑

When the kids were still all under our roof, even then, it was a major event for us to travel back home to see family. Depending on our location, we’d fly or drive– often both of our vehicles due to various schedules and needs. We would spend days and often weeks bouncing between my parents’ house and Ryan’s parents’ house. We’d hustle to fit in visits to see grandparents who may not have the promise of another year– and in reality, have all but one gone on to their reward. We’d try to be available to see all of our siblings, nieces, nephews– usually accommodating their “other side” of their in-law families, and occasionally we’d squeeze in coffee or a lunch date with close friends. We do this because we love our families, and we have always felt the effort, expense, and energy of traveling was, and is, so worthwhile.

However, now that our kids are all adults, all going in their own individual directions, but still under our financial and parental covering, we are not only figuring out the logistics of getting ourselves “home” (to Tennessee), but also figuring out the logistics of getting the kids “home” to us (at the duty station du jour) and then all of us back “home” to Tennessee, back “home to our duty station,” and then the kids all back “home” to their respective campuses. We do this shuffle twice within a six to eight-week period over the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.

This is emotionally and logistically complex. This is also why I am exhausted after the celebratory letdown of the holidays. If it sounds like I am complaining, I am not. I know full well just how blessed we are to have huge, loving families to go home to, healthy, independent young adult children with busy lives they are leading, and financial resources to make it all happen. I don’t take that for granted, but I do mention this wrinkle of the holiday reflection because it nearly overshadows everything else for us moms and magic makers.

Our Parents Will Soon Be Needing Us Differently

I am not rushing our parents to the grave by any means, but the reality is that they are all in their seventies now. As I’ve gotten older and the more full-adult-size our kids have grown more adult-sized, I also consider the amount of work it takes for my mom and Ryan’s mom, Becky, to host all five of us with beds, space, and meals. I recognize that while their hearts scream hospitality, they are aging, and I know the workload is heavy.

It feels weird to be almost 50 years old and very much in the tension of being a kid at their houses, but also being the adult mother of my own adult children. It also makes me a little sad to think about what the next several years might look like as our parents face health issues, home changes, and more. I feel the weight of that responsibility lurking in the shadows.

Ryan and I and our siblings are all trying to be mindful of this and offer to pitch in with meals and planning to ease the physical burden of our mom’s hosting.

I keep thinking about my own upbringing, and the line is fuzzy on when we stopped going to my grandparents’ houses and started our own family traditions. I think about my own kids and our ages and realize that soon, we will be outgrowing all of us, going to pile in at Nana’s or Mimi’s as they all get jobs, have spouses, and start their own families.

The Catch-22

The thing is, as much as this season of the holiday feels emotionally and logistically complex, and as much as I see how our parents are needing us in different ways than before, it also pains me to think about having a major shift in how we do the holidays. You see, I cling tightly to traditions and rituals. It’s hard to let go, because these traditions and rituals are a form of security for me. When a lot of other parts of life tend to be unpredictable, I want the comfort of the holidays to be stable and sure.

I guess what I’m realizing is that two (or more) things can be true at the same time. What I don’t want is to be so wrapped up in how I want things to be that I miss the beauty and joy of what they actually are. No two holiday seasons will likely ever be the same. I want to be so flexible and relaxed about it that I don’t mind and perhaps don’t even notice or let it affect my mood or emotions. A girl can dream, right?

From talks about this with other friends in the same stage of life, I know a few get it. The joy and the ache. The longing for the old ways and the excitement about new seasons. The holding on and letting go. The false sense of controlling time, space, kids growing up, and aging parents– all of it sprinkled with the high expectations that the holidays bring. The reality of learning to roll with all of the changes. You know, the climbing of the mountain, turning around, and the landslide bringing me down of it all.

I wrote this post as a snapshot of a moment in time, and it’s one I’m planning to revisit ahead of the holiday season later this year. I think I may need the frequent reminder to stop trying to force things and just let them be, beautifully imperfect as they are.