Let’s be real...the word peaceful doesn’t usually coexist with tinsel, toddlers, and a sugar high that could power the national grid. But every year, I tell myself: this Christmas, it’s going to feel calm, cozy, intentional. No more chaos disguised as “holiday magic.” No more wrestling tangled fairy lights while whisper-screaming, “This is supposed to be fun.” 

And yet, here we are again - the season of joy, glitter, and inexplicably sticky kitchen counters. 

So how do we do it? How do we find peace when the living room looks like Santa’s workshop exploded, and someone’s using the Nativity sheep as a bath toy? The answer isn’t perfection, it’s energy. It’s creating a home that feels peaceful, even if the toy box is overflowing and the baby just ate part of a gift tag. 

For me, it starts with slowing down the vibe. Before I even pull out a single decoration, I ask myself: what do I want this home to feel like? Not look like - feel like. I usually land somewhere between “Nordic spa” and “gingerbread hug.” This means soft textures, fewer colors, and more warmth. The good kind of glow - candles, fairy lights, mugs of cocoa that are actually hot because I remembered to drink them. I dim the big lights, turn on a low playlist (Nora Jones meets Michael Bublé energy), and let that cozy stillness creep in. 

And then... the kids arrive. With boxes. And tinsel. And grand plans. 

The thing is, peace doesn’t mean “no noise.” It means embracing the noise with intention. I’ve learned to let my kids decorate the tree their way first — the clumpy clusters, the ornaments all hanging on one branch, the accidental avant-garde approach -  because it’s theirs too. Later that night, I’ll sneak in with a cup of tea and just… rearrange. Not because I’m controlling (okay, maybe a little), but because I love when things have that curated calm. And yet, there’s something about those tiny fingerprints on the baubles that makes me smile every time. It’s real. It’s home. 

I also learned the art of hiding chaos beautifully. A woven basket is not a basket, it’s a peace vessel. It swallows Legos, rogue candy canes, and anything that doesn’t spark joy (or match the aesthetic). Every mother deserves one. Or six. 

Then there’s scent. Oh, scent! The unspoken mood-setter of every home. I used to light six different candles at once because I thought more was more. Now, I stick to two: vanilla bean and cedarwood. They make the whole space smell like calm confidence - as if my life were together, even when the Elf on the Shelf is hanging by a thread. 

And finally, the biggest secret: stop chasing perfect. The peaceful home you’re craving doesn’t come from spotless countertops or matching stockings. It comes from letting the day unfold without panic when plans shift, when the cookies burn, when someone cries because Santa forgot the batteries. 

That’s peace. It’s messy, it’s human, it’s full of love and laughter and maybe a few sparkly tantrums along the way. 

So this year, light that candle, pour the mulled wine, and give yourself permission to stop trying to stage-manage Christmas. Peace doesn’t mean quiet. It means knowing that this - the noise, the giggles, the chaos - is the memory in the making.

xoxo