The Advent Calendar I'm Not Making (And the One I Almost Did)

Funny story… For 16 years, I've been making advent calendars from scratch for my kids. The handmade envelopes. The tiny gifts. The carefully curated activities. The origami $5 bills (yes, really). It was a holiday tradition and creative outlet I looked forward to because it helped us wind down the year with some intention, some goodies, and lots of togetherness.

But somewhere around age 11 or 12, my kids' schedules exploded with homework, school projects, music performances, and extracurriculars. Suddenly, the advent calendar felt less like fun and more like... work. They'd outgrown the small gifts. And we were squeezing in activities nobody had time for.

So this year, with my youngest being 13, I did something I’d been wanting to do for awhile. I proposed letting go of the advent calendar.

And she said, "Okay, Mom."

Just like that.

For about 24 hours, I felt relief. No more late-night googling "holiday jokes for kids." No more hiding little treasures then completely forgetting where I put them. I imagined all this spaciousness opening up—time for my writing, actual conversations with my husband, sacred rest.

Then, naturally, I did what any recovering overachiever would do.

I started creating a replacement advent calendar. This time for moms. "Self-care advent calendar ideas!" and "Ways to gift yourself this season!"

I was halfway through creating the pdf when I caught myself doing it again—overgiving, overdoing, trying to perfect every detail.

The intention was genuine. But the pattern? Not aligned at all.

The Pattern We Can’t Unsee

Here's the thing: we do this not because we're flawed, but because we're patterned.

We learned that we have to give to be worthy. We were told our value is measured by how much we offer. Many of us grew up in scarcity and never learned how to feel enough just as we are. And let's be honest—entire systems profit off women never feeling like we're doing enough.

But that’s a story we don’t have to carry anymore. And I believe that you and I—we’re here here to choose differently.

So as we move toward the end of the year and those familiar thoughts show up (I should be doing more, I’m behind, I’m not where I hoped I’d be), here’s my invitation: Slow down. Do less.

Find the tiny openings in your day—the quiet places you usually rush past. And enjoy them.

You don’t have to do more to be enough.
You are allowed to simply be, without adding anything extra, without performing or perfecting.

And when you catch yourself in the pattern of overgiving—because you will, because I will—just notice that too. Without judgment. These patterns protected us once. But they don’t have to run the show anymore.

Your Self-Care Guide This Week

✦ Affirmation for the Week:

“I am whole exactly as I am. I am allowed to receive. My enoughness is not earned—it simply is."

Say it in the mirror. Whisper it in the car. Let it be the last thing you think before sleep.

✦ Full Moon in Gemini — December 4

Full moons are a time of reflection and release, a time to remember that wholeness is never outside of you.

Journal prompt: What would it feel like to be full without being busy? To be complete without constantly doing? Where in my body do I feel depleted and what am I being asked to let go of?

Let yourself write without editing. Let whatever comes up, come up.

✦ An Invitation (Not an Assignment)

If it feels good—and only if it feels good—I’d love to see your pockets of rest and stillness this season.

That coffee you abandoned for a few extra minutes of daydreaming. The sunset that caught your eye while you were stopped at a light. Your feet up on the couch, doing nothing but being.

Share a photo with me on Instagram with the hashtag #Restful so we can remind each other that this, too, is the work of mothering (yourself and your children).

But truly, no pressure. Your rest doesn’t need to be documented to count. Every small pause, every moment of ease, is enough.

And if you’re ready for deeper support, 2026 coaching spots are open. Learn more about working together here: Inward.

Here's to choosing differently,
To the advent calendars we're not making,
And to the spaciousness we're learning to trust.

xo. Jessica

P.S. If you made it this far and you're thinking "but I already committed to seventeen holiday things"—it's okay. You're still enough. Start where you are. One pocket of stillness at a time.

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