Caught a small seasonal blessing, y’feel me.

I’m thankful Christmas is done. I’m probably packing the tree and all the dusty tchotchkes earlier than usual this year. This season just hit different — heavier, quieter, less magic — and that weight stayed on my chest the whole run. But I still managed to catch a couple small seasonal blessings, and I don’t take that lightly. Real talk, I hope you caught a few too, even if they were blink-and-you-miss-them moments.

My daughter had a rough go waiting for the gifts. From the second they showed up under the tree, patience was not on the menu. But Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? She patterned up. Polite. Helpful. Smiling. Boxing Day hit and she snapped right back to factory settings — impatient, spicy, allergic to chores — but those two days? Those two days mattered. They put some charge back in my battery, and I held onto that energy like it was contraband.

One of the bright spots came courtesy of a friend who invited us to his mom’s place for brunch on Christmas Eve. Full house, good vibes, proper warmth. We ran a White Elephant gift exchange and it was jokes — chaotic, funny, no pressure. Bare kids, bare laughter, bare life. Lily soaked it up. Everyone there moved with kindness and intention, and I clocked it. Those are the kinds of people I want her around. That kind of energy teaches without preaching.

That brunch made the rest of Christmas manageable. Leading up to the day, I was stressing hard about cooking the traditional spread — forest mushroom soup, potato salad, filet of sole. Simple meal, but it’s legacy food. Passed down, never written, just known. The potato salad slapped. The fish behaved. The soup? Absolute violation. Burnt it clean through. Didn’t taste like tradition — tasted like wet dog. We moved on.

Tea got poured, gifts got opened. I stretched the budget and tried to hit as much of her wishlist as possible. I threw in a few presents from my brother and his family, and some friends came through too. Then the ex-wife’s Korea box landed — luxury ting, customs fee, $37 just to breathe near it. UGG sneakers. Ralph Lauren Kids. I can’t compete with that kind of bag, not even pretending. Credit where it’s due: the gifts were nice. Lily loved them. I swallowed whatever I needed to swallow and kept it moving.

I got some thoughtful gifts too, and I’m grateful. But I’m not gonna front — I missed seeing more gifts under the tree for me. Not for the stuff. For the ritual. Picking up a box. Reading the “from.” Being surprised. Most of the gifts there? I wrapped them. I bought them. I already knew. I tried to spice it up with fake “froms,” but it’s not the same. There were no surprises. No ambush joy. And I missed the hugs. Missed the shared smiles. Missed the feeling of abundance that isn’t about money.

So yeah. I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad New Year’s and Easter were never major family productions, because doing all this solo? It’s heavy. Once a year is more than enough. I caught a couple blessings, held them close, and now I’m ready to shut the lights off, sweep the pine needles, and move forward.

Respect to anyone else who made it through the season on fumes.