A Community of Care

I absolutely love December; the glow of the holidays, the quiet magic of the winter solstice and the excitement of the upcoming winter break with my kiddos. But as much as I adore this season, I have to be honest: the lead-up can feel intense. Family life becomes a whirlwind, and the to-do list seems to grow faster than I can check things off.

Every year, I have certain traditions that I treasure—decorating the house, baking, planning special meals, choosing thoughtful gifts. These rituals fill me with joy… but they also add to my already overflowing mental load. Can you relate? That constant hum of things we need to remember, plan, schedule, pack and prepare?

In the middle of an already hectic schedule, we somehow try to squeeze in even more: holiday baking, shopping, decorating, class concerts, gift exchanges, and community events. Some days, I’m not even sure when I’ll find time to run simple errands, like making a return at Costco!

Time: Prioritizing it, protecting it, scheduling it
This becomes the real challenge of the season.

And then there’s the pressure—often self-inflicted—to make everything perfect. We slip into perfectionist parenting without even noticing it. But the truth is, we don’t need an Instagram-worthy holiday. Our kids don’t need us to recreate a magazine spread or host flawlessly curated gatherings. They need us—present, calm, connected.

Every December I have to gently remind myself to rein things in. I tend to do all the things, whether I’m hosting twenty people or just enjoying a quiet holiday with my little family. And yes, part of me genuinely enjoys it! That’s what makes it so hard to know when to stop.

But I’m learning—slowly—that the magic of this time of year isn’t in the decorations, the food or the perfectly planned atmosphere. It’s in the small moments: cuddling on the couch, doing a puzzle together, stepping outside for a snowy walk. Those are the memories that really matter. For us, with family far away, these moments of connection feel even more precious.

So if you’re feeling the weight of the mental load this December, know you’re not alone. We’re all juggling, adjusting and doing our best. May we each find balance—honouring the traditions we cherish while also protecting our time, energy and wellbeing. Here’s to a season that feels doable, meaningful and full of heart.

“Do you want to have more kids?” If you’re a parent, chances are you’ve heard that question more times than you can count. Maybe you’ve asked yourself the same thing. Maybe you’ve already made up your mind—or maybe the decision isn’t even up to you. Either way, it’s a deeply personal topic, and yet it’s often one of the first questions people ask after you’ve had your first child.

But why is that?

There seems to be this unspoken societal script that assumes once you’ve had one child, you’ll naturally go on to have more. And if you don’t, you’re expected to explain why not. Whether it comes from family, friends, coworkers or even strangers, the pressure can feel subtle… or not so subtle. There’s this underlying idea that a “complete” family must involve multiple children, that you’re somehow deviating from the norm if you follow a different model.  

Personally, I never used to think much about people asking me that question. It always felt like small talk. But when I take a step back and really think about it, it strikes me just how personal it is. For some, it’s a sensitive or even painful topic. Fertility, finances, physical and/or mental health, relationship dynamics, life goals—so many factors shape this decision, and not all of them are open for public discussion.

What makes it even harder is how quickly the follow-up questions come once you’ve answered. If you say yes, people might jump in with:

• “When are you planning to have the next one?”
• “How far apart do you want them?”

• “Aren’t you getting older?”

And if you say no, you might hear:

• “Why not?”
• “Don’t you want your child to have a sibling?”
• “Isn’t it selfish to stop at one?”
• “Who will take care of you when you’re older?”

These are not just small questions. They carry weight, assumptions, and—often—judgment. And depending on who’s asking, they can feel like a real invasion of privacy. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to respond with a firm, “That’s really none of your business,” but I usually just smile and navigate the conversation as gracefully as I can.

And then there’s the added pressure of opinions. We’ve all heard them:

• “It’s important for a child to grow up with siblings.”
• “It gets easier with every child.”
• “Children keep you young.”
• “You shouldn’t have more—you already look overwhelmed.”
• “What if the next one is even more difficult than the first?”

Just reading those makes my head spin. What’s especially frustrating is how often parents feel like they have to defend their choices. Whether you’re thinking of having more children, choosing not to or facing challenges that make the decision complicated or out of your hands, it can feel like you’re constantly explaining yourself.

The truth is, our society has deeply ingrained expectations about family—what it should look like, how big it should be, and what kind of future it should secure. But families don’t follow a one-size-fits-all model. Everyone’s journey is different, and sometimes, that journey includes only one child. Sometimes it includes none. Sometimes it includes many. And none of those paths is more “right” than the others.

At the end of the day, the decision to have more children (or not) is incredibly personal. Whether or not you want to share your thoughts on it is entirely up to you. So next time someone asks, don’t be afraid to set your boundaries—or answer in whatever way feels true to you.

Because no one else is living your life but you.

Sending you lots of love and positive vibes this month,

Jessica