How to Avoid Holiday Burnout: 7 Ways Busy Parents Can Do Less and Enjoy More Subtitle
A house fire forced me to discover the power of doing nothing—here's what I learned
Hey friends,
I had the most terrifying thought as I sat down to write this week’s newsletter. Thanksgiving is in 18 days and wait for it...Christmas is in 44 days. For my Jewish friends, Hanukkah is 34 days away!
How did we get here so fast? I swear last week we were kicking off summer.
So here we are in what is known as the busy time of year and supposed to be the most joyous as well. And it is joyous, but...
When my kids were younger, November and December were a non-stop blur. Basketball practices. Games. Tournaments. Choir concerts. Secret Santas. Teacher gifts. Holiday parties. Cookie exchanges. Bunko night parties. Neighborhood parties. Friend’s parties. Christmas in Davidson (IYKYK). Family to visit. Lights to see. And the list went on and on and on.
Then there were the gifts to buy, food to cook, presents to wrap, stockings to hang, tree to decorate, outdoor lights to put up. It was a never-ending list of THINGS to do.
When the kids went off to college, things slowed down in some ways but sped up in others. They were only home for a few weeks, so we tried to cram all of the holiday cheer into a condensed amount of time. It was a whirlwind.
I had a love-hate relationship with November and December until last year.
On October 8, 2024, our house caught fire.
I won’t sugarcoat it—it was terrifying. One moment everything is normal, the next moment firefighters are telling you that you can’t live in your home for months. We lost our sense of safety, our routines, our holiday plans. Everything we thought was solid ground just...disappeared.
But in the wreckage of what should have been our busiest season, I learned something I desperately needed to learn.
The power of doing nothing.
We couldn’t have a big family Thanksgiving, so Josh and I went to the beach instead. It was quiet. Peaceful in a way I hadn’t experienced in years.
We couldn’t decorate the house for Christmas or get sucked into the whirlwind of holiday obligations. So we went to the mountains. The calm and stillness felt like oxygen after years of holding my breath.
Here’s what I discovered: when you’re forced to stop, you’re also forced to decide what actually matters. What absolutely has to be done versus what’s just...extra. What brings you joy versus what brings you obligation dressed up as joy.
The house fire taught me the lesson I’d been resisting for years.
Doing nothing is always enough.
As we’re ending 2025, I want you to embrace the power of doing nothing. Not because your house caught fire (God, I hope not), but because you deserve to experience the holidays without drowning in them.
Here are tangible ways you can practice the Power of Doing Nothing this season:
Say no without explanation. You don’t owe anyone a detailed reason for declining an invitation. “That doesn’t work for us this year” is a complete sentence. Practice it in the mirror if you need to.
Pick one tradition and let the rest go. Not every tradition needs to survive every year. Choose the one that lights you up and give yourself permission to skip the ones that feel like obligations. The cookie exchange? The elaborate decorations? They’ll be there next year if you want them.
Schedule nothing days. Literally block out entire days on your calendar and write “NOTHING” across them. Protect these days like they’re the most important meetings of your life. Because they are.
Stop trying to create perfect holiday memories. Your kids (or your future self) will remember the calm, present version of you way more than they’ll remember whether you made homemade cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning or served cereal.
Let something be mediocre. The teacher gift can be a gift card. The Christmas card can be skipped entirely. The decorations can be minimal. Give yourself permission to do the bare minimum on something and watch how the world keeps spinning.
Ask yourself: “What would happen if I didn’t do this?” For every item on your holiday to-do list, ask this question. If the answer is “honestly, nothing terrible,” cross it off the list.
Create white space in your calendar. For every commitment you add, block off equal time with nothing scheduled. This isn’t lazy—this is strategic rest.
I know what you’re thinking. “But Heather, people are expecting me to...”
Stop.
People will adjust. Your family will survive. The holidays will happen whether you bake 47 types of cookies or zero.
What won’t survive is you running yourself ragged trying to meet expectations that you probably created in your own head.
The fire stripped away everything except what actually mattered: my family was safe, we were together, and we had space to breathe. I didn’t need the perfect decorations or the packed calendar to have a meaningful holiday season. In fact, I had the most meaningful one in years precisely because all of that was gone.
You don’t need a crisis to give yourself permission to do less.
You just need to decide that your peace matters more than other people’s expectations.
As you head into these next few weeks, I’m giving you permission—if you need it—to do nothing. To choose stillness over chaos. To let things be imperfect or incomplete or just...undone.
Doing nothing is not failing. Doing nothing is a radical act of self-preservation in a season designed to overwhelm you.
You are enough. Just as you are. Without the perfect holiday performance.
xx, Heather
P.S. If you need to read this newsletter again in two weeks when the panic sets in, please do. Screenshot it. Print it. Tape it to your fridge. You have permission to rest.