I had a lot of post-Christmas content planned in the run-up to the big day, but when I woke up on Boxing Day, I felt utterly deflated - a stark contrast to the warm glow I’d envisioned.
As someone who adores Christmas, this was a difficult feeling to reconcile. While I’m a firm believer in taking social media with a pinch of salt, I couldn’t help but compare my experience to the endless stream of picture-perfect posts: families in matching pyjamas, harmonious multi-pet households, and meticulously styled festive spreads. It left me wondering: Why didn’t my Christmas look - or feel - like that?
Don’t get me wrong, I had a wonderful Christmas surrounded by my closest family, and for that, I’m truly grateful. But the day itself felt overshadowed by stress and anxiety - two things I had desperately hoped to avoid at my favourite time of the year!
My main aim with Diary of a Dog Mum is to always remain authentic and truthful. So, it feels only right to drop the happy-go-lucky post-Christmas content I had planned and instead focus on why the most wonderful time of year felt like the most stressful time of the year to me - and what I’ve learned from it.
A Rocky Start
It all started on Christmas Eve when Vivienne and Trixie had one of their rare disagreements. While it was quickly diffused, the tension set the tone for the remainder of the evening and the following day.
We stayed at my mum’s house that night, which, while lovely, brought its own challenges and unease. It was Trixie’s first overnight visit, and I was anxious about how she’d cope. Thankfully, she surprised me, settling in, sleeping soundly and even trying her best to befriend my mum’s cats - a small but significant win that gave me hope for Christmas morning.
But then came the presents. What I’d imagined as a joyful, bonding moment quickly turned chaotic. Trixie became overwhelmed after opening just a few gifts, and we had to hit pause, saving the rest for Boxing Day when we were back in the comfort of home.
Vivienne, ever the introvert, found the day particularly challenging. She gets easily overwhelmed in busy environments, and with a house full of people, I knew she’d need her space. Thankfully, my sister’s two-year-old Labrador, Peggy, was more than happy to entertain Trixie, leaving Vivienne to enjoy the quiet moments she craves.
The Pressure of Perfection
Cooking Christmas dinner is something I usually enjoy, but this year, it felt utterly overwhelming. Despite meticulous planning with my mum - complete with heated buffet trays, pre-prepped dishes from other family members, and even my first homemade Christmas cake - the pressure of the day left me feeling defeated.
When it comes to cooking, regardless of whether it’s a family feast or a casual dinner for two, I am always a perfectionist, and the significance and pressure that comes with Christmas dinner made it all the more stressful. By the time dinner was served, I couldn’t even finish my plate.
Sitting at the table, I felt like I was back in the throes of the puppy blues - overwhelmed with anxiety, guilt and exhaustion. I was done with dinner, done with Christmas. It was as though the joy of the season had been replaced with an unrelenting pressure to create a perfect day, and I was struggling under its weight.
Finding Joy in Simplicity
Once the dinner was behind us, the day finally began to feel like Christmas. We exchanged gifts, played games, and simply enjoyed each other’s company - a poignant reminder that the magic of the season isn’t found in perfection, but in connection.
This Christmas taught me some hard but valuable lessons. My dogs, like many of us, are at their happiest and most secure in the comfort of their own home, following their usual routine. And while I see them as my children, I can’t impose human expectations on them or expect them to conform to my idealised vision of the holidays.
Looking Ahead
Next year, I’m doing things differently. Christmas dinner will be a curry at my favourite Indian restaurant - no planning, no early-morning prep and, hopefully, no stress!
While I love spending the whole of Christmas Day with my girls, I’ve also come to realise that, for Vivienne, a quiet afternoon at home while we tuck into Christmas dinner elsewhere is probably preferable. It’s a compromise that allows her the solitude she craves while still celebrating the day as a family.
As for New Year’s Eve? It’ll be a quiet night in with my husband, our dogs and a takeaway curry while catching up on the Christmas TV we missed - Wallace and Gromit, I’m looking at you!
Reflecting on the Lessons Learned
This Christmas reminded me of the importance of letting go of the unrealistic pressures we place on ourselves to create a flawless festive season.
For me, it’s easy to get caught up in the pursuit of perfection, but the true magic of the season lies in the spontaneous, imperfect moments - the laughter, the love, and the shared experiences that make each Christmas uniquely special.
I’ve also learned that the stress I felt on Christmas Day didn’t come from external pressures, but from the expectations I placed on myself. My family were not and have never been critical of Trixie’s boundless energy, Vivienne retreating for some quiet time, or even a Christmas dinner that’s less than perfect. In fact, they’re always ready to lend a helping hand and words of reassurance - I just need to get better at accepting it!
So, here’s to a simpler, more relaxed holiday next year, and to cherishing the messy, beautiful moments that make life - and Christmas - worth celebrating.
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