Like many individuals, I possess vivid childhood memories of gearing up for family outings during each season. In the summer, we would roll onto the grass of the local all-you-can-pick farm. During the fall, we explored apple orchards. And in the winter, we went on Christmas tree hunts. Year after year, there were always disputes about the exact number of berries required for the perfect pie or whose turn it was to handle that large apple-picking pole. It was an integral part of the fun. Living at home made the drives quick, the baking leisurely, and the memories lasting. After each seasonal experience, I would happily doze in my own bed and count the days until we could do it again the following year.

My Insatiable Quest in New York

When I moved to New York for college, I had an unquenchable desire to make the most of everything the city had to offer. Plays, concerts, and restaurants - my bucket list was expanding by the minute. To further challenge myself, it became evident that I needed a separate Christmas bucket list for the holiday season.Soon enough, my list was as extensive as Santa Claus's naughty or nice inventory. My essential holiday experiences included ice skating, seeing the Rockettes, attending The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center (made possible only by student ticket prices), shopping in any type of "winter village," and admiring the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree - all the major ones.But there were also the ones I "had to claim" I did: seeing a jazz band play holiday classics, standing in line with every other person in New York for the Macy's windows, and looking at Christmas trees other than the one at Rockefeller Center. If I was spending Christmas in New York, I had to go all out.Nearly 20 years later, as I reflect, I am amazed. Firstly, at how much energy I had. But truly, at how determined I was to do everything - even things I didn't truly care about - to fill my Christmas cup.Today, I still live in the city, but with my own family, coordinating any seasonal excursion requires significantly more effort. It's because of the kids and because I live in a different state from my parents and don't have a car. To try to recapture some of the magic of those hectic seasons of my youth would involve renting a car, making the trip, and then rushing to avoid the traffic. It's overwhelming.Four years ago, after the pandemic and having a baby, I didn't have the energy to make the trip for family apple day in the fall. At that time, it truly felt heartbreaking: Was my favorite tradition now forever ruined, like the ninth apple that had spoiled by the time I finally got around to eating it?No, it just meant that things were different now.This year marked the second time we missed the trip. It was a busy season. Not only did we have school-related activities, but my husband and I also had a destination wedding that we had been looking forward to all year. While we were away, my parents took my daughter apple picking. I wonder if they didn't tell me until later because they didn't want to upset me. And initially, I was upset. But then I realized that if I couldn't make the day happen for her, I was glad that they could.Nowadays, my bucket list (especially around Christmas) is much shorter. It's one or two things long. Taking pictures with Santa? Sign me up. Attending the local tree lighting? Sure, maybe I'll see you there. Otherwise, we are staying at home - a far cry from my previous winters when I tried to fit every possible seasonal activity into a few months.I now understand that trying to schedule fun into every minute of every night and weekend takes away the entire "savor the season" atmosphere. And I think it's extremely important for my young daughter to see me enjoying the holidays along with her. With all the adult responsibilities that the season brings, all I want for Christmas is to put on some absurd pompom socks and sit down somewhere. Because in those quieter moments, there is their own holiday magic: introducing your child to Home Alone, reminiscing about souvenir Christmas ornaments, and devouring Reese's shaped like Christmas trees.So, here is a permission slip that I am giving to myself and to you as well: You don't have to do all the seasonal activities. Make time for one or two favorites because if you try to pack it all in, there won't be much room left for joy. And I want to create as much space as possible - for joy, of course, but also for store-bought Christmas cookies.When she is not practicing drums or folding sweatpants, Meredith Begley enjoys reading and writing about health. You can find her on Instagram @meredithbegley.