Live from the trenches, this is your weekly Jail Mary Dispatch.
We are issuing an urgent holiday advisory.
Christmas has arrived, and with it:
• no school
• no structure
• no peace
• and no idea what day it is
Reports confirm all family members are home, all the time, asking questions, needing snacks, and touching things they absolutely should not be touching.
Morale is declining.
THE BRIEFING: THIS IS NOT THE HALLMARK VERSION
They don't show this part in the movies.
They don't show:
• kids waking up at 5:12 AM "because Santa might be awake"
• wrapping gifts at midnight like a raccoon with scissors
• stepping on Legos while carrying coffee you desperately need to survive
• the house slowly filling with plastic, paper, crumbs, and noise
Christmas chaos is festive… until it's not.
Because while the kids are joyful and overstimulated, moms are:
• overstimulated
• under-rested
• managing logistics like an event planner with no staff
• emotionally regulating everyone but themselves
And somehow still expected to feel ✨magical✨.
THE CONFESSIONAL: I LOVE CHRISTMAS AND I'M STILL OVER IT
Here's the part no one says out loud:
You can love Christmas and be completely done at the same time.
I love:
• the lights
• the traditions
• the wonder on their faces
• the way time feels soft and holy
But I also feel:
• touched out
• exhausted
• like my nervous system is being gently sandblasted
• like one more "Mom?" might push me into witness protection
And then the guilt sneaks in.
"I should be enjoying this more."
"Other moms seem happier."
"Why am I irritated when this is supposed to be joyful?"
Here's the truth:
Joy and overwhelm can exist at the same time.
That doesn't make you ungrateful.
It makes you human.
FIELD NOTES FROM THE CHRISTMAS FRONTLINES
This is not advice. This is survival intel.
1. Lower expectations immediately.
Not everything needs to be magical. Some things just need to be done.
2. Build in escape hatches.
Bathroom breaks. Pantry breaks. "I need to grab something from the car" breaks.
3. The memories will survive if the house is messy.
No child grows up saying, "I remember how clean the house was."
4. If you cry once during Christmas week, you're doing it right.
That's just the system releasing pressure.
THE OUTLAW MAMA BENEDICTION
May your coffee stay hot.
May your wrapping paper cooperate.
May your children sleep later than 6 AM at least once.
May you remember that you are not ruining Christmas because you're tired —
you're the reason it exists at all.
Go in peace, Jail Marys.
And if peace isn't available, go hide behind the Christmas tree where no one can see you.
If you're surviving Christmas in the same hoodie and pure grit, consider this your permission slip. The current drop is basically a holiday survival uniform.