November and December in New Zealand are those sneaky months where the calendar looks innocent… and then—BAM—every square turns into a meeting, an end of year dinner, a shared-plate, and a reminder you forgot to RSVP to the shared-plate. It’s the pre-Christmas triathlon for Mums: sprinting between deadlines, school prize-giving’s, and beginning to tackle the “what to get everyone for Christmas” list. Again.
If your to-do list is the length of the Great Wall of China (with scenic detours to “bring a plate,” “book a ham,” “gift for the teacher,” “book dog in for grooming”) hello. You are our people.
Every single year, despite our best intentions, Christmas Eve arrives and we limp in absolutely shattered whilst for many of us, the other half in our relationships drift in like relaxed cruise ships having had only one gift to buy, and sometimes that is even forgotten until the last minute.
The Mental Load: Why You’re Tired (Before You’ve Even Wrapped Anything)
It’s not the one task that breaks us—it’s remembering every task:
What is the name of that thing from that place again?
Which teacher across the 3 schools have we bought for?
Did we pay for the athletics sausage sizzle, or was that the mufti day donation?
The “motherload” isn’t just doing things; it’s tracking them. And tracking takes brainpower, which is why you end up staring at the pantry at 10:17pm wondering if rice bubbles can be turned into a salad.
And don’t even get us started on the ridiculous Elf on the Shelf, which we maintain is a delightful tradition done by someone who definitely has a nanny.
“But the Dads…” (Said With Love)
Look, some Dads are absolute legends who shoulder the load like champs. We see you. We salute you. We also see a recurring pattern where the household’s “Head of Operations” is… Mum. Dads often get the visible jobs (BBQ, ice run, heroic last-minute dash for batteries) while Mums handle the invisible jobs (everything else, planned three weeks ago, inside your head). We’re not here to Dad-bash; we’re here to rebalance.
What 6 Things We’re Doing Differently This Year
1) The Two-Line Reply We’re Using for Everything
“Thanks for the invite. We’re maxed out that week, but we’d love to help in a small way. Can we drop something off instead?”
Boundaries, but with baked goods.
3) The “Good-Enough” Rule
Platters: supermarket dip + carrots + crackers + a sprinkle of pistachios = festive.
Teacher gifts: a lovely Christmas decoration they will use each year
Baked goods: buy a slice, cut it up, dust over some icing sugar and boom, you look like Martha Stewart
4) The 15-Minute Power Tidy
Set a timer after dinner. Everyone picks a room. Music on. No one escapes. It’s miraculous what a house full of people can do in 15 minutes when there’s a timer and a bribe.
5) Batch the Admin
One power hour: all RSVPs, all payments, all gift list updates, all online orders.
Do it with a coffee and ruthless efficiency. Then shut the laptop.
6) Give those relaxed cruise ships an actual job (Not a Token One)
Maybe they are in charge of all the meat for Christmas Day; maybe you give them the task of wrapping all the gifts and labelling them. Co-ownership in our books often results in co-forgetting so give them the whole task to own.
Our Promise (From Two Mums, Not a Marketing Team)
This year we’re choosing good enough. Reducing the often ridiculous self-imposed perfection standards and aiming more for good enough. Does anyone actually remember how the Christmas presents were wrapped?
We will celebrate the Dads who step up—and invite them to keep stepping. We will show our kids that Christmas magic isn’t about Christmas tree decoration perfection; it’s about togetherness, jandals, and a slightly lopsided pav.
If you need a pep talk in December, imagine us in your kitchen, handing you a cold drink and saying:“You’ve done enough. Truly. Light the candles, eat the cheese, and sit down.
Better yet, go and lie down on your Comfi bed and give that sleep deprived brain of yours the rest it deserves”.
With love (and a shared calendar that’s doing the absolute most),
Susie & Vicki
P.S. RIP Elf on the Shelf