How to Romanticize Christmas: 3 Ways to Make an Ordinary December Feel Magical
I think sometimes we spend so much time planning Christmas that we miss the bigger picture. If we could zoom out and look at our Decembers from a mile high in the sky, what would we see? Hint…it’s a little crazy.
We’re going to Pottery Barn. We’re going to Target. We’re buying more decorations, decking the halls, buying more food than could feed an army and expensive presents because we think that’s what makes everybody happy. We’re cooking everything from scratch and trying to make the house look perfect. And then December 26th comes and we’re exhausted.
Do you even remember what someone bought you last Christmas? Probably not. But I bet you remember how Christmas felt.
When I think about my favorite Christmas memories from childhood, they’re ridiculously simple. We were home. My parents were baking. The tree was up. Every year we’d pull our old ornaments out of their boxes and rediscover them. Some were sparkly. Some were old and wooden. We got a new ornament each Christmas to commemorate that year, and pulling them out again felt like finding tiny pieces of our lives. I could almost cry thinking about it now.
There wasn’t an elaborate itinerary creating all that magic. It was home. It was snow. It was something warm baking. It was the glow of the Christmas tree.
I realized I didn’t need more Christmas plans when I started noticing that everyone else was having fun and I wasn’t. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and yet I’d get to December 26th and think, Wow. Everyone was so happy. Why am I exhausted?
I wasn’t romanticizing Christmas. I was doing Christmas. -in a way this is the same as taking the time we have in December for granted.
And I don’t believe our imaginations disappear because we grow up. I’m not saying Santa is coming down the chimney. 😂 I’m saying we’re still perfectly capable of wonder, anticipation and letting an ordinary Tuesday feel a little extraordinary simply because it’s December.
Maybe the reason Christmas felt so magical when we were kids wasn’t because anyone was doing more. Maybe we just had enough room to notice it.
If this already sounds like your December…
I made SLEIGH | The Holiday Edit for exactly this reason. It’s my little Christmas storybook for getting the doing out of the way before it eats your December—so there’s actually room for the tree glow, slow mornings and ordinary Tuesday nights we’re about to talk about.
Less doing. More Christmas.
Make an Ordinary Night Feel Like Christmas
One of my favorite things about December is that Winter almost seems to be telling us to slow down. It gets dark earlier. The nights are longer. It’s cold outside. Everything seems to be saying, Go home. Get warm. Stay awhile. I personally yearn for this all year long.
On a random Tuesday morning in December, I might drink my coffee in the dark with only the twinkle lights on. I’ll put a crackling fireplace on YouTube with instrumental Christmas music in the background. Maybe I take a morning bath before the day gets started. And light a pine scented candle. I’m in fuzzy slippers and Christmas pajamas. Nothing extraordinary has happened, but it feels like Christmas.
Dinner doesn’t need to be impressive either. Give me steak and potatoes or a roast—something simple and warm. Maybe I’ll open champagne with dinner just because it’s December and I want to. Maybe cinnamon rolls become breakfast on an otherwise completely ordinary morning. Why not?
Put on White Christmas, Four Christmases or The Grinch. Make the house smell like cinnamon and pine. Turn the overhead lights off and let the tree glow. And if it happens to snow? Even better. Snow is my favorite!
Try it tonight:
- 🎄 Turn down the house. Overhead lights off, tree lights on. Put an old Christmas movie or a crackling fireplace on in the background.
- ☕ Make one ordinary thing feel special. Cinnamon rolls for breakfast, cocoa with too many marshmallows or champagne with Tuesday-night dinner.
- 🧦 Stay home if home sounds better. Christmas pajamas, fuzzy socks and something warm in the oven. A December night doesn’t need an itinerary to count.
If I could give you one rule for December nights, it would be this: If it stresses you out, don’t do it.
Romanticize What You’re Already Doing
Here’s where I think we get Christmas completely backwards. December has become do, do, do and go, go, go, and then we wonder why we can’t feel it anymore. Even doing the dishes can be more fun and magical if you play some Christmas music while doing so. You can watch the snow out the window with a holiday candle lit. This makes what is usually just another chore a little moment specially for you.
I don’t want you adding Christmas to your life. I want you to notice the Christmas that’s already in front of you. Winter is already outside your door. The air is cold. Maybe there’s snow. The sun is going down early. The scene is set. Now take the life you’re already living and let December into it.
Make what you’re already doing feel like December:
- ✨ In the morning: Drink your coffee beside the tree. Put Christmas music on while you get ready. Wear the red lipstick because it’s December.
- 🎄 During the everyday stuff: Play a Christmas movie while you fold laundry. Listen to Christmas music while you cook. Turn off the overhead lights and let the candles and tree glow while you do the dishes.
- 🚗 On your way home: Take the route that passes the town Christmas tree or the neighborhood with the beautiful lights. Grab a hot cocoa, put on Jingle Bells and take the long way home.
And please, buy the cinnamon rolls if you don’t feel like making them. Bring them home, put them in the oven (on low) and let that warm, yeasty smell fill the house. Suddenly what you’d call a normal night at home, smells like a dreamy cozy Christmas morning.
Instant Christmas.
That’s what I mean by romanticizing December. You’re not adding another activity to the calendar. You’re changing the atmosphere around a life you’re already living.
Leave Room for Christmas Magic to Find You
I think some of the best nights in December are the warmest and slowest ones. You’re home. You’re safe and warm on the couch. Dinner is coming out of the oven. The people you love are at the table. There’s a fuzzy blanket waiting for you and a Christmas tree glowing in the corner.
Those are the moments we take for granted, and I think that’s part of why Christmas stops feeling magical. When every December night is scheduled, we’re so busy trying to create Christmas that we can’t see what’s right in front of us.
But give me a night with nowhere to be? Oh, we can make some Christmas magic out of that. Brownies at 8 p.m. with vanilla ice cream are practically a showstopper at our house. 😂 If the snow starts falling, I swear I can almost hear the little snowflakes twinkling in the sky.
And that’s where I think we can borrow something from ourselves as children. Christmas was full of surprise and wonder. We knew surprises were coming, we didn’t know exactly what they would be, and our imaginations filled in the rest.
Why do we think we’re no longer allowed to do that? Our imaginations didn’t disappear because we grew up. We can still decide December is different.
Leave a little room for:
- ❄️ Spontaneity. It starts snowing? Put on your boots and go outside. Someone suggests looking at lights? Grab the cocoa and go.
- 🎁 Surprise. We’re still allowed to anticipate something wonderful. Make smores on a Thursday night. Surprise yourself with how fun & simple this is.
- 🔥 Absolutely nothing. Leave a December night blank. Brownies at 8 p.m., an old Christmas movie, the fire going and nowhere else you’re supposed to be.
Christmas magic needs somewhere to land. Leave room for magic to happen.
You Don’t Need to Do More Christmas
If you love Christmas but somehow arrive at December 26th completely exhausted, look at what you’re doing because you genuinely love it—and what you’re doing because you think that’s how Christmas is supposed to be done.
Maybe you’ve outgrown a tradition. Let it go. Maybe there’s an old one you desperately miss. Bring it back. Grandma’s sugar cookies. Cinnamon rolls. Ribbon candy in the stocking. A new ornament every year. Fuzzy socks and Christmas pajamas.
Life has changed. People have passed on. You’ve changed. But there are still tiny little pieces of you that remain. Bring those pieces with you into this Christmas, and then clear some room around them.
Buy the gifts earlier. Freeze what you can. Move the things that don’t belong in December into October and November. Stop making everything from scratch just because you always have. Stop trying to recreate somebody else’s Pinterest-perfect Christmas.
You don’t need a packed itinerary or an 80-page planner to have a magical December. You need more room and fewer expectations.
Because maybe romanticizing Christmas isn’t about trying to make your life look like a Christmas movie. Maybe it’s realizing that on an ordinary Tuesday night—with the tree twinkling, something warm in the oven and the people you love nearby—you’re already standing in the scene. You are already living in your little Hallmark world.
Want more room to actually live in December?
That’s exactly why I made SLEIGH | The Holiday Edit. SLEIGH is for the woman who loves Christmas but is tired of working her way through it. It helps you decide what matters, get the right things done earlier, simplify what doesn’t and make room for the part you’ve been trying so hard to create in the first place: the magic.
Less doing. More Christmas.
