Pressing Pause on The Post-Christmas Hamster Wheel

Legend has it that every Christmas evening, after the wrapping paper carnage had settled, the ham had been devoured, and everyone was sprawled out in a gravy-induced stupor, my great-grandfather would rise from his recliner, stretch dramatically, and proclaim, “Well, Christmas is as far away as ever.” And then he’d shuffle off to bed.

But here’s the thing—it doesn’t have to be that way. Not in my household, anyway. For us, Christmas isn’t over when the last gift is unwrapped or our bellies are stuffed beyond the point of no return. No, we celebrate what I like to call “The Pause.” Otherwise known as the 12 Days of Christmas, or if you want to sound fancy, Christmastide.

The Pause is a refuge at a time when the world collectively decides to jump back onto the hamster wheel of life. As everyone around us is getting back to the crazy ping pong schedule of carpool, ball parks, gym memberships, and new diets that involve kale and sadness — we linger just a little longer in our cozy cocoon of holiday cheer.

While others are boxing up decorations and muttering about New Year’s resolutions, we’re still drinking eggnog, watching Hallmark movies, and trying to figure out if “partridge in a pear tree” is supposed to be a metaphor for something or just a weirdly specific bird request.

It’s cozy time. The house is still glowing with lights, and the scent of pine (or a reasonable facsimile courtesy of a scented candle) fills the air. The Pause is when you can wear pajamas until 3 p.m. without shame, as long as you occasionally shuffle to the kitchen to retrieve another cookie. It’s family time—perfect for board games that end in accusations of cheating and discussions that start with “Remember when?” and quickly devolve into arguments over who left the Monopoly money where the dog could get it.

It’s also rest time. As a homeschool family with parents who work from home, we have cleared the calendar and don’t have anywhere to be outside of the weekly trip to the grocery store and an occasional jaunt to a restaurant. Need a nap? Take it. Want to eat breakfast and go back to bed? Go for it. This is our downtime.

This pause embraces the Danish concept of hygge (pronounced hoo-gah)—that magical, cozy feeling of warmth, comfort, and togetherness. It’s about leaning into soft blankets, fuzzy socks, and candlelit evenings while sipping hot chocolate and pretending the outside world doesn’t exist. Hygge reminds us that it’s perfectly acceptable, even admirable, to prioritize coziness and connection over productivity and performance, at least for a little while.

But most importantly, The Pause is a reset. It’s a time to reflect on the old year and plot out the new one. Historically, Christmas was a season. It was called Christmastide, a time when people allowed themselves a slower-paced, more reflective start to the year— before productivity trackers, life coaches, and corporations tried to convince all of us that January 1st was the time to reinvent ourselves. Frankly, New Year’s resolutions just seem like a way for the weight loss and exercise companies to turn that elusive first-quarter profit at the expense of people who are already broke from all that Christmas shopping.

The Pause is a gentle transition, a way to tiptoe into the new year instead of hurtling into it headfirst with an Apple Watch strapped to one wrist and a kale smoothie in the other.

So, while the rest of the world is sprinting back to normal, my family will still be here—snuggled up, soaking in the Christmas glow, and eating leftover pie directly out of the tin. Because life isn’t meant to be lived on a hamster wheel. Sometimes, it’s okay to step off, take a breath, and just be.

And if you need me, I’ll be right here, finishing up my Christmas snacks by the fire and wondering why the neighbors are giving me funny looks for taking my tree down in mid January.