just me, living here

I know some people feel very strongly about “no Christmas before Thanksgiving,” but honestly? Decorating early turned into one of my new little acts of self-care. There’s something about easing into the season rather than rushing headfirst into a three-week frenzy that calms my whole nervous system.

When I started early this year, I enjoyed the process, took inventory of what I already had, and really decided what deserves a place in my home. No pressure, no time crunch… just slowly letting the holiday spirit settle in.

This year, that slower pace nudged me into something new: editing way down. I brought out only the pieces I truly love, the ones that give me that warm, nostalgic, fuzzy feeling in my chest.

And that change started with a new tree. Delivered directly to my door by Amazon the first week of November.

For the past few years, I had a heavily flocked tree. It was a pretty tree, sure, but it never gave me the warmth I craved. I desire a real tree, but my husbands allergies beg me to refrain. So I purchased a big new dark green beauty! The old skinny white trees felt cold, sterile, too harsh almost. Somehow just off.

I found myself longing for that classic glow, that old-fashioned sparkle that takes you right back to childhood.

I’ve always admired the “Old Money” Christmas look with rich greens, cranberries, mercury glass, and gold metallics but somewhere along the way I let trends pull me into Scandi minimalism or Instagram trends. Cute, yes. But me? Not really.

Turns out, I’m a traditionalist through and through.

I want a tree that looks like it was plucked from a local farm, hauled inside with cold fingers, and filled with every ornament that has meant something over the years. (Well maybe not every ornament, but you get the idea).

That doesn’t mean I won’t flirt with trends (hello, Ralph Lauren Christmas), but deep down I’m a lover of the decorations that carry stories. Old ornaments that have been with me for years.

A choir boy ornament that makes me smile.

A homemade Styrofoam ball with little Eddie pictured in the center with a hand-tied ribbon.

A red wooden heart with baby Addie in it from her first Christmas.

A chili pepper with a huge mustache that looks exactly like my brother.

A clay house that was given to us 26 years ago for our first Christmas at our house on Stoll.  

I want a tree full of ribbons, textures, silly dinosaurs and “Forky”. Old mittens, sparkly glass and new felt ornaments made just this year.

I also love popping in a strand of popcorn garland, freshly cut magnolia branches and leaves from our trees or dried orange slices, anything handmade, and anything that feels a little “Little Women” Christmassy.

Part of why these small touches matter so much is because the holidays have changed for me. Losing most of my family left a quiet ache in a season that used to feel so full.

Christmas Eve was once the one night a year when all the complicated family stuff paused, and we were simply together, being merry. The house would be filled with music and laughter. Sometimes it was the only time that year that I saw my brother or parents. Those memories still glow inside me, and I think that’s why I’m so intentional about creating warmth now.

My home has always been the gathering place.

It’s where we blend two families into one. My sister’s kids grew up thinking my husband’s parents were their grandparents because that’s the kind of magic the season made possible, everyone feeling connected, everyone feeling loved.

And that’s still what I want my home to do: hold people.

Welcome people.

Wrap them up a little.

I’m not great at saying how I feel out loud, but my home? That’s where my love language comes through. Opening my door, lighting the candles, fluffing the pillows, arranging the tree just so, it’s all my way of saying you’re safe here, you’re loved, stay awhile.

If I can give people joy and comfort simply by the way I create this space, then that’s the gift I hope I’m offering.

So yes, the decorations were up before Thanksgiving. And yes, it brings me peace and happiness.

But more than anything, it brings me closer to the feeling I’ve always chased at Christmastime:

Unconditional love, a safe place to have a good time and a home full of warmth.

Easing Into Christmas – A Poem from AI

I decorate early, and honestly, why?
It quiets my spirit, slows life passing by.
No rushing or frenzy, just letting things be
A gentle beginning, a calmer-ish me.

This year I trimmed back to the pieces I love,
Warm, classic colors and glow from above.
Gone is the white tree that never felt right
I wanted old-fashioned, nostalgic delight.

Ornaments treasured, each story a thread:
A choir boy, Addie, a chili pepper red.
Memories hanging from branches of green,
A Little Women Christmas, soft and serene.

The season has shifted with losses I’ve known,
Yet love lingers still in the home that I’ve grown.
My door says “you’re safe” when the words feel too small
My warmth is my welcome, my gift to them all.

So yes, it’s up early—my tree, every part—
Because Christmas for me is a home full of heart.