A Note for the Moms Behind the Magic
The invisible work. The mental math. The pressure to make it “magical.”
Hey there—
There’s a specific kind of December chaos that isn’t actually chaos.
It’s choreography.
It’s the quiet math moms do between work, school, dinner, and the middle of the night:
How many spirit days are left?
How many teacher gifts do I still need?
Did I commit to something and forget to put it on the calendar?
Do we have wrapping paper?
Why is everyone hungry again?
And underneath all of it is the same pressure-y whisper that shows up every year right on time:
Make it magical.
Magic is sweet. But it’s also a little unhinged.
Because when we typically think of magic, we think of something that just shows up.
The illusion. The wonder.
That moment of delight where you don’t know how it happened—only that it did.
That’s what makes it feel like magic.
And moms perform that kind of magic every year.
Not because it “just happens.”
Because someone makes it happen.
What magic looks like for moms
Magic isn’t just the moment. It’s the making of the moment.
It’s the invisible work that creates the illusion:
Remembering the tiny details no one else remembers (the “special” mug, the exact ornament, the right cocoa).
Creating warmth when you’re tired and would rather be horizontal than festive.
Making things feel safe even when your nervous system is one more email away from losing it.
Translating emotions all day long: “she’s overtired,” “he’s anxious,” “we’re all maxed out,” “it’s not personal.”
Holding the family storyline—traditions, photos, memories, the “we always do it this way,” the “it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without…”
And here’s the part nobody says out loud:
Sometimes the mom is the magic… and also the one who rarely gets to experience it.
Because when you’re manufacturing it, you’re not always inside it.
You’re behind it.
A kinder way to think about “magic”
If magic is supposed to feel like it just happens… then why do so many moms feel wrung out by January?
Because you’re not just enjoying the holidays.
You’re producing them.
So maybe the goal isn’t “more magic.”
Maybe the goal is less pressure.
A version of the holidays where the delight isn’t built on your exhaustion.
Where the season still has warmth—but you’re not the only one generating it.
Intern Move of the Week (2 minutes)
Name the part you’re done carrying.
Not forever. Just this week.
Finish this sentence:
“This year, I’m not doing ____ the hard way.”
Examples:
“I’m not doing teacher gifts the hard way.”
“I’m not doing the perfect meal the hard way.”
“I’m not doing the ‘say yes to everything’ thing the hard way.”
Then pick the easier version on purpose.
Not because you don’t care—because you do.
You’re allowed to stop performing joy. You’re allowed to just live it.
This year, let magic be something you feel—not something you feel responsible for over-manufacturing.
See you next Sunday,
Danielle