Ode to Holiday Moms + 10 Must-Make Seasonal Recipes

This is my cinematic Ode to Holiday Moms + 10 Must-Make Seasonal Recipes..

December is a Performance

Moms during the holidays, know this: December is a performance and it runs like a fever dream. Empty stage. Dark room. The smell of burnt cinnamon toast. Then suddenly the faint sound of choir music hits, a winter breeze hits your neck. And some marshmallows roll out of a bag, right at your feet. Click! A booming spotlight flickers on and there you are on an empty stage, your kid or kids sitting in the seats in the front row, awaiting magic like in the movies. Offstage, a faceless voice whispers,

“Psssst. Okay, go! You’re on! Go!” Huh? Me? You look around on stage. You look down at yourself, just a mom in day-old sweats, slippers on, a mug of cold coffee in hand.

The voice shouts now: “Go! Make it feel like Christmas!”

“Make it Feel Like Christmas!”

There’s no script. No actors. No twinkly glowy lighting. Where’s the tree? The presents? The snow? The fluffy velvet party dresses and steamy hot cocoa? Where are the platters of gingerbread men and warm cinnamon rolls? Wait, where is Santa? Don’t we need a list? Some cards? Food? Oh shit. Holidays moms, this is your cue.

“Me?” You whisper back to the offstage voice. Yup all you. And action!

Christmas Show, By Mom

There’s a lot of talk on social media about “ooh mom makes the holiday magic!” It’s not Santa, it’s the holiday moms! But this needs to be leaned into, truly and fully for a sec..

Holiday Moms Are it

Holiday moms (ok, fine, dads too, but mostly moms IMO) are directing in real time. Adjusting the lighting, adding another string of lights. Making the holiday playlist and watch list. Turning the music up when it helps and down when it suddenly feels like too much. Mood making. We choose props on the fly. Some days the scene is big and dramatic, everyone piled into the car in parkas and snow boots, driving five hours so the kids can make snow angels and throw snowballs for ten minutes before they’re cold and hungry and done. Other days it’s a five-minute drive up the street to a tiny outdoor ice rink with cheesy music and overpriced hot cocoa that somehow tastes like cardboard and sugar at the same time. Same director. Different scene. Same amount of effort either way.

Some nights you remember to move the elf. Other nights you absolutely do not, so you move it at the last possible second, half-awake, hoping no one notices the sudden lack of creativity. Some nights you carefully place ornaments. Other nights you throw them on the tree and call it a design choice: kid-chic because messy is the vibe. The tree looks chaotic. Uneven. Like real life. There is only commitment. You find random things on the tree. Keychains. Ribbon. Paper cutouts. Toys. All part of the charm.

Martha Stewart would absolutely disapprove. And you love that.

Spice and Sweet and Fragrant Things

If you are lucky to linger in the kitchen, you flick on the stove or oven, the kitchen smells like cocoa and vanilla bean, cinnamon and cloves – sage and nutmeg.

You ask Alexa to blast your favorite holiday song because you deserve it. Then you try some classics so your kid hears them for the first time. You play Carol of the Bells and wave your hands in the air. You are the conductor and this is your orchestra.

Someone is asking for “spicy” water every thirty seconds. Aka the sparkling stuff in green glass bottles, that you just want to chug this time of year. You’re googling Christmas cookies at 9pm with one eye open, flour on the counter, sprinkles everywhere, your phone slipping out of your hand because your fingers are sticky or greasy or dusted with flour.

The sugar cookies are kinda average, because that’s how sugar cookie are, but everyone is excited anyway, because you made them. Because you tried. Because effort counts in this season more than execution.

Your gingerbread men? Maybe too crunchy? Slightly burnt? Oddly shaped. They are perfection.

And who ended up decorating that last tray of cookies? You. All you. Every holiday mom reading this. Every last snowflake sprinkle was all you. The kids got tired. But you did not settle for naked cookies.

Santa’s Elves Could Never

You’re wrapping a billion presents that will be opened in approximately two seconds. The sound of tape ripping. The scissors that were just here are gone again. Wrapping paper sticks to your socks. The cats start chewing is apart like it’s coated in cat nip.

You don’t doddle on the perfection because you know that these presents will be opened without any concern for how well the corners matched up on that fold.

On Christmas morning, who does cleanup? You. All you. Again. You will stuff everything, every hand-picked sheet of wrapping paper, into a giant trash bag like you just survived a small natural disaster.

And maybe tonight you’re putting up extra Christmas lights because your kid asked, even though you already swore you were done. You’re hiding presents in places you immediately forget about. Stuffing them into corners of closets as if a curious kid wouldn’t actually easily stumble in there. But you’re too tired to be stealth. You are running on fumes, luck and too much caffeine.

Your phone says you’ve walked ten thousand steps today, and none of them were for yourself. You’re tired but still going, because this is the part where the show continues even when you would like to lie down on the floor for just one minute.

Sparkle, Shine, Red Fluff & Green Velvet

You pull out anything sparkly, red, forest green, gold, or velvet and put it somewhere you can see it, because honestly you deserve to look at something nice. And you wear red lipstick for no reason other than it makes you feel slightly more alive. Then you make a cheese board for dinner and call it festive. Sparkling cider. Maybe fancy champagne. You blast *NSYNC holiday songs you somehow know all the words to, and your kid looks at you like you are both impressive and deeply embarrassing at the same time.

No, you will not play KPOP Demon Hunters again because they stupidly did not put out a Christmas album, and this is your movie to orchestrate. And Golden is not a holiday tune. Sorry.

NYE Onward

You buy a glittery New Year’s Eve dress just in case you feel like putting it on and dancing in your living room at 8pm. You probably won’t make it to midnight. Unless it’s in the form of in your bed, doom-scrolling. That’s fine. You’re still the director. You still decide how the scene ends, even if it ends early with crumbs on the floor and half-deflated balloons you’ll deal with later. Keepy-Uppy is the afterparty theme, just maybe.

Holiday Events Burnout, No I Won’t

You go to the cheesy holiday kid things, the lights, the rides, the games that cost too much and last too long. Your senses are overloaded. Your patience is thin. The smell of kettle corn, cotton candy and cold air sticks to your sweater. And still, there’s a moment when your kid’s face lights up and you think, okay, this is the shot. This is why we’re doing this. This is the frame we’re trying to capture, even if everything around it is a mess.

But you also decide there are plenty of slow scenes in between big ones. Quiet moments. Yule Logs on the Netflix screen, a game of checkers or Uno. Fuzzy socks and all the lights off, just the Christmas Tree glow to fill the space, sugar and snow sifted with peace and calm. Somehow. Between the tinsel and tangled ribbons.

Good Job, Moms: I See You

And I just want to pause the show for a second and say this: I see you. I see the logistics. The mental load. The emotional labor. The constant decision-making. The way you’re making magic out of chaos with snacks, glitter, late nights, and pure willpower. I see the effort that never makes it onto Instagram. I see how much of this lives entirely in your head and your hands.

There is no perfect production. No flawless execution. There is just heart, and showing up, and doing the next small thing even when you’re tired and slightly overstimulated. And there is just improv, night after night, with a cast that keeps changing the script and an audience that believes in you completely, even when you’re not sure what you’re doing.

And honestly? You’re pulling off a cinematic masterpiece with no budget, no rehearsal, and no idea how you’re doing it.

And that deserves credit. Like ‘let me FedEx you an Oscar’ level of credit.

Good Job, parents. Until next year….

PS. Just please don’t forget the food. Bake one thing. You can do it.

And to help you out on the food part…

10+ Vegan Holiday Recipes to Make Every Year

1. Christmas Morning Cinnamon Rolls
2. Appetizers: Sage Citrus Butternut Squash Dip and Garlic Herb Cheese Ball on a Vegan Cheese Platter
3. Cloud Cocoa
4. Cookies for Decorating -Gingerbread Men Cookies or Linzer Cookies
5. Snowball Cookies, aka Pfeffernusse
6. Holiday Pie: Pecan or Pumpkin or Chocolate
7. Stuffing and Mashed Potatoes and Cranberry Sauce
8. Christmas Tree Salad
9. Entree: Mushroom Potato Pot Pie
10. Holiday Nog French Toast Casserole