Hallmark movies have lied to us. No one’s holidays are that perfect. My son ensures this by decorating the Christmas tree with “strategic clusters” of ornaments (translation: they’re all on one branch). I’ve learned to embrace the chaos - and by embrace, I mean I fix it after he goes to bed.

Gift-wrapping? He’s in charge of taping. Grocery shopping? He gets a list and the task of finding the candy aisle. Sure, his “help” sometimes creates more work (like the time he wrapped a gift using three rolls of tape), but it keeps him entertained, which is a win in my book.

Burnt cookies? My son calls them “extra toasted” and eats them anyway. Forgot the batteries for his new toy? He turns the box into a rocket ship. Kids have a way of turning holiday hiccups into hilarious moments - if you let them.

We’re not aiming for top-level anything here. If the gingerbread house collapses, we call it “modern architecture.” If he wears his Spider-Man pajamas for Christmas photos, it’s a festive superhero chic look. The key is enjoying the moment, no matter how messy it is.

After the gift chaos and sugar-fueled excitement, I grab a cup of tea (or wine) and hide in the bathroom for five glorious minutes. My son usually finds me anyway, but those brief moments of peace are enough to recharge.

In the end, the holidays with my 10-year-old are far from stress-free, but they’re full of laughter, surprises, and memories I wouldn’t trade for anything. And that, I think, is the real magic. 😊