The Adventure of Enough: Finding Joy in a Season That Wants More

The Hustle vs. The Heart

I love the holidays. I’m a sucker for a Hallmark movie and candy canes. If you invite me to carol, I’m in. A couple of years ago, my family was asked to be the Holy Family for a nativity re-enactment… sign us up! There’s so much magic in focusing on kindness, giving, and making the world a little better.

Being a mom during the holidays is a surprisingly powerful position. You set the tone, the pace, and often the activities (hopefully with your partner). And as Uncle Ben says, “With great power comes great responsibility.” As fluffy, bright, and beautiful as the holidays are, that responsibility can sometimes feel heavy. And it turns out, it’s not just me.

In her book, "The Mental Load," Emma captures the way mothers often carry the responsibility of setting the emotional tone in a family—among many other gendered discrepancies in households.

The Institute for Women’s Policy Research reports that “discrepancies in the time women spend on housekeeping only increase around the holidays … Holiday ‘magic’ is care work.” Not only does the “normal” housekeeping increase because family is coming, but there are visits to plan, parties to prep for, and the never-ending task of making things magical.

It makes me think of the white board calendar resting on top of our stove where I have tried to coordinate all our holiday activities, regular appointments, work assignments, and side hustles. Or perhaps the box of new to us toys and books hiding in the closet that I have been setting aside all year for now so we don't have to spend an excess amount on gifts.

A 2022 New York Times article echoed this, noting that the cozy “holiday feeling” often comes from women’s emotional labor. From me storing sweet crafts that my boys have made over the years and displaying them again so my boys can compare their hands to their baby handprints. It seems simple, but it is a lot of work.

Think about it: someone has to find the decorations, bake the cookies, choose the songs, plan the traditions. As wonderful as the season is, there’s a lot of invisible labor behind the scenes. No matter how intentionally responsibilities are divided, the weight of the holidays generally falls more heavily on women. And while I have a wonderfully supportive partner who contributes to childcare and housekeeping, the magic-making can still feel uneven.

This year, I’m trying to be more intentional about how I approach that magic—specifically, by simplifying and choosing to be grateful.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with my sister about slowing down. I really do get to set the tone for my boys—for our family. So maybe this season, the magic looks less like doing more and more like doing less, on purpose.

The Hidden Work of the Holidays

The truth is, no one else even saw the holiday vision I was silently perfecting in my head. That’s the thing about the mental load — it’s invisible until it spills over. That unseen work is exactly what makes the mental load feel so heavy. This made reflect, this year has to be different.

Aren't those the famous last words -- this time it will be different. 

The truth for me is, this time it has to be different. I'm currently working two jobs and Al has a mountain of side hustles as well. We are scrambling, working together, and doing our best to make things work. 

Like it or not, it has to be different this year. 

But that doesn’t mean I can ignore the feminist pressures society has piled onto women for generations. And I don’t mean that in a “women deserve it” kind of way. I mean it in a “women have been doing it all like the powerhouses they are—and they shouldn’t have to” kind of way.

In her book The Price of Motherhood, Ann Crittenden captures this tension powerfully: 

Any woman who has devoted herself to raising children has experienced the hollow praise that only thinly conceals smug dismissal... One of the most intriguing questions in economic history is how this came to be; how mothers came to be excluded from the ranks of productive citizens... When did caring for children become a 'labor of love;' smothered under a blanket of sentimentality that hides its economic importance? (Crittenden, 2001)

Kinda heavy, right? But think about it. Think about your home. Are their labors that are being "smothered under a blanket of sentimentality?"

How often are women asked how they “balance” home and work life—or get the backhanded compliment: How do you do it all?

How often have you been called “superwoman” for doing all the things you do?

My sister is so kind. She’ll often say, “I don’t know how you’re doing it all.” And in our last conversation, she started with, “You’re a superwoman—” but then paused and corrected herself:

You actually don’t have superpowers. You’re just doing a superhuman’s worth of work.

And that superhuman’s workload only increases during the holidays, often turning the season—and sometimes me—into a ball of stress instead of magic.  

A little history...

In 2019, the National Museum of American History at the Smithsonian opened an exhibit on “women’s invisible labor” (Duff, 2019). It was called All Work, No Pay: A History of Women’s Invisible Labor and highlighted the long-standing societal expectation—something I mentioned in my From Guilt to Growth series—that women handle childcare and housework.

One of the most striking parts of the exhibit was the clothing on display. It reminded me of the evolution of my own wardrobe: business casual, to T-shirts with spit-up during my SAHM years, and now back again as I rebuild my career. 

As Duff explained, “Many of the costumes on view represent the type of women’s clothing that is rarely seen outside of the home and thus are representative of the invisibility of women’s labor over time” (2019).

Sociologist Arlene Kaplan Daniels wrote “Invisible Work” in 1987, and it still feels painfully accurate. She argues that our societal definition of work is too narrow—focused only on paid labor. As a result, we undervalue the countless tasks that keep life running.

She also notes that much of the pressure around being a “homemaker” comes from the lack of external validation—validation that usually comes with a paycheck. I get that. During the SAHM parts of my life, I felt stuck at times. I was busy all day and night but unsure what I had actually accomplished.

I was deeply grateful for my support network—my mom, my six sisters, my island friends—all of whom made sure I was seen.

And of course, there was Al, who has always been an incredible father and partner. But he isn’t responsible for fixing centuries of gendered expectations. He does (and continues to do) his best to notice, support, counteract—but it’s a hard cycle to break.

Invisible work is often truly invisible. It’s not seen, not acknowledged, and yet it’s constant.

And during the holidays—it only grows.

Creating Holiday Magic

The Institute for Women's Policy Research explains this in their article Holiday "Magic" Is Also Unpaid Care Work. 

According to the American Time Use Survey (ATUS), in 2019, women spent 2.16 hours per day on household activities such as cooking and cleaning while men spent 1.39 hours. Further, women report spending 16 percent more time purchasing goods and services. Experimental ATUS data from 2019 and 2020 showed that women spent an average of 1.7 hours per day and men spent an average of 46 minutes per day caring for and helping household children. (Storz, 2021)

 Things are not balanced. And that imbalance expands during the holidays.

I had an incredibly magical childhood. There was reindeer food, treats, songs, etc. Think back to your childhood:

• Who made Thanksgiving dinner?
• Who wrapped the gifts?
• Who mailed the cards?
• Who created the centerpieces?
• Who pulled the whole thing together?

Chances are, most of that “magic” was made by Mom.

And creating that magic can actually take a toll. 

A 2021 Ellevest study found that 38% of women felt stressed about the financial cost of the holidays—on top of existing financial worry. Other studies show that holiday emotional labor—the work of managing everyone’s feelings and expectations—has real mental health impacts for women (Storz, 2021).

I feel it. My sister feels it. We talked to each other; we talked to our spouses.

Our solution: prioritize & simplify.

(If you’ve read my post about finding your family’s priorities, this will sound familiar.)

Focus on the pieces of the season that matter most to you.

For us, unwrapping gifts is fun—but we don’t want gifts to define the holiday. We keep it minimal. What we love: lights. So we go on drives to see them. We bake treats for ourselves and our vecinos. We pull out the paranda instruments. We join community festivals and celebrations around Puerto Rico.

And sometimes—we just call it and go home. Prioritizing well-being is more important that "magic."

Sadly, I cannot control everything (hello, inner critic…).

Gratitude as an Act of Resistance

I struggle often with my expectations. Sometimes I create a beautiful image in my head, try to build it for my family, and then my kids fight or plans fall through — and it rocks me. I’m still learning to loosen my grip, to be flexible, and to work through the things I simply can’t control.

And honestly? No one else even saw the holiday vision I was juggling — because like most moms, I was carrying the invisible mental load alone. 

While I’m trying not to shame myself for how I feel, I’m also working on being more present and grateful for this wild, incredible adventure I get to live — even with its ups and downs.

I’m learning to be grateful for both. The bumps and the smooth parts, the chaos and the peace, the adventure and the routine — all of it is worthy of gratitude. Sometimes it’s the uncomfortable spots where we grow the most.

Just listen to this...

Out of Control

The other night, I was putting the boys to bed by myself. We’d had a rough afternoon involving the dog eating a rotten egg on the carpet. That meant that we had to clean up the carpet: scrub it, smell it, scrub again, and ended up layering it with baking soda. Then my kids literally eating the baking soda we used to get the smell out. There was too much yelling and not enough listening.

As a result, I decided we were all going to bed early. But when I walked in with what I thought was booming authority, something unexpected happened — the boys started working together. They giggled as they hurried to pick up bath toys and wash soap down the drain. They snuggled, picked out books, and bonded over my brief authoritarian meltdown.

I regret being, as my boys would say, a butthead. But I don’t regret their response. I want to be grateful for all parts of the adventures we experience. Adventures aren’t just found in quiet sunsets — they’re also in the courage to slow down and respond intentionally when the world speeds up.

Sometimes it feels like that during the holidays: everything speeds up and I feel guilty for not being able to keep up, to be the perfect mother. Dr. Alexandra Sacks talks about the myth of the perfect mother. I know she’s right, but sometimes my perfectionist inner critic drowns out her logic. She explains that mothers often feel most of the pressure to create these “ideal moments.”

And I’ve noticed that when my expectations or inner critic start stealing the magic, if I take a step back and find one small thing to be grateful for, it all comes back.

The Adventure of Enough

I've talked about this before in my Guilt to Growth series, but it bears repeating. This quote has become a motto for my life: 

And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good (Steinbeck, 1952).

In my previous blog post, I explained: 

These societal pressures not only impact our emotional well-being but can also affect our ability to make intentional decisions for our own families. When we are constantly seeking approval from external sources, whether through social media, cultural norms, or even family expectations, we lose sight of our unique path as mothers. (Guilt to Growth Part 2, April 2025)

Sometimes, when I’m rushing through the invisible labor that never seems to end, I have to remind myself that I am enough. Even in the rough moments, even when things don’t work out. Our family, our experiences, our adventure — they are enough.

Striving for perfection might look admirable, but it’s actually harmful. As Donald Winnicott explained in The Good-Enough Mother (1960), our children don’t need us to be perfect; they need us to be human.

It’s worth letting your goals and expectations breathe during this busy season. This isn’t “losing yourself” or a sign that you’re not ambitious. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s choosing to believe you’re worthy enough to prioritize, to simplify, and to find gratitude in the life you’ve built.

I love Katherine Goldstein’s NPR podcast The Double Shift. Her mission is to reinvent motherhood norms by building a “village” and setting realistic expectations. While I’m still learning to rely on my own village, one thing I can do right now is create realistic expectations for myself.

That happens through establishing priorities, simplifying where I can, and carving out space to be grateful.

Conclusion — Gratitude as the Map Home

So that’s my goal for this season.

Yes, I want to send holiday cards and bake cookies.

I want to eat lechon and sing with my boys.

I want to apply to jobs that fit my life and ambitions and keep building my career poco a poco.

But more than anything, I want to remember — again and again — that I am enough. I want to feel deeply grateful for this incredible adventure, even the uncomfortable parts.

The real adventure this season isn’t creating more.

It’s remembering that we already have enough.

That we are enough.

If today’s post gave you a breath of relief, send it to another mom who might need that same reminder: she is already enough.

Sources

Crittenden, A. (2001). The price of motherhood: Why the most important job in the world is still the least valued. Metropolitan Books.

Daniels, A. K. (1987). Invisible work. Social Problems, 34(5), 403–415. https://doi.org/10.2307/800538

Duff, S. (2019, March 7). All work, no pay: A history of women’s invisible labor. Smithsonian Magazine. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/all-work-no-pay-history-womens-invisible-labor-180972096/

Ellevest. (2021). Women and money: 2021 report. Ellevest. https://www.ellevest.com

Emma. (2017). The mental load: A feminist comic. Seven Stories Press.

Goldstein, K. (Host). (2019–present). The Double Shift [Podcast]. NPR. https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510338/the-double-shift

Harris, S. (2025, April). Guilt to Growth: Part 2. Adventures with Sarah & Al. URL

Institute for Women’s Policy Research. (2021). Holiday “magic” is also unpaid care work. IWPR. https://iwpr.org

Sacks, A. (2017). The birth of a mother. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/13/opinion/sunday/the-birth-of-a-mother.html

Steinbeck, J. (1952). East of Eden. Viking Press.

Storz, M. (2021). Holiday “magic” is also unpaid care work. Institute for Women’s Policy Research. https://iwpr.org

The New York Times. (2022). Why holidays feel cozy — and who creates that feeling. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com

U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. (2020). American Time Use Survey results, 2019–2020. https://www.bls.gov/tus

Winnicott, D. W. (1960). The theory of the parent–infant relationship. International Universities Press.

(If you're quoting specifically The Good-Enough Mother, you can list:)

Winnicott, D. W. (1960). The theory of the parent-infant relationship. In The maturational processes and the facilitating environment (pp. 37–55). International Universities Press.