When the Holidays Push You to the Edge: 5 Ways a Mother’s Nervous System Calls for Help
The holidays arrive with magic in the air… twinkling lights, warm nostalgia, traditions we carry in our bones. But for mothers, they also arrive with something else.
Noise.
Demand.
Overstimulation.
Invisible labor.
Expectation layered on expectation.
And beneath all of it, a quiet truth:
Our nervous systems weren’t made to hold this much without support.
People joke about Santa carrying Christmas, but let’s be real…
Mrs. Claus does the real heavy lifting.
She’s the one keeping track of the lists, the meals, the moods, the last-minute needs, and the emotional temperature of the entire North Pole.
And just like her, your nervous system has limits, even in the season that asks you to be everything, everywhere, all at once.
Here are five signs your nervous system is nearing capacity, and what they actually mean.
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1. Everything Feels Loud (Even the things that aren’t)
Imagine Mrs. Claus hearing sleigh bells, elf chatter, toy hammers, reindeer hooves…all at once. She’d hide in the cookie pantry too.
And it’s not just the literal noise… the kids home from school, the kitchen clatter, the constant chatter. It’s the internal noise too: your brain scanning, sorting, bracing, anticipating.
When your sensory cup is full, even a whispered “Mom?” feels like a cymbal crash.
This isn’t irritability. This is sensory overload and your system signaling, “I’m at capacity.”
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2. Small Things Feel Like Big Things
The spilled glass of juice.
The forgotten mitten.
The schedule change.
The last-minute school event you somehow didn’t know about.
Mrs. Claus would snap too if the elves misplaced one more paintbrush.
It’s not that these moments are catastrophic, it’s that your brain, under chronic load, can’t filter intensity.
The prefrontal cortex, the part responsible for planning, reasoning, patience, goes dim.
So a tiny inconvenience suddenly feels like an avalanche.
You are not dramatic.
You are overwhelmed.
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3. Your Emotions Feel Thin, Fragile, Close to the Surface
Holidays tend to stir older stories: family dynamics, childhood memories, grief, expectation, responsibility.
Add exhaustion and overstimulation…and even a small conflict or comment can feel like a wound. If Mrs. Claus burst into tears because someone criticized her gingerbread?
We’d understand.
This isn’t emotional weakness, it’s a low window of tolerance.
Your body is saying, “Please have grace. I am stretched.”
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4. You’re Moving Fast… But Thinking Foggy
Even Mrs. Claus would forget where she put the wrapping paper.
Running from task to task.
Managing meals, gifts, school events, travel details.
Holding everyone’s emotions.
Yet you walk into a room and forget why you’re there.
This is executive function collapse, one of the first signs of nervous system strain.
Your mind isn’t failing you. It’s overworking to keep your family upright.
Your fog is proof of how much you hold, not how little you’re capable of.
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5. You’re Present… But Not Really “Here”
You sit in the room,
you smile,
you participate,
but a part of you feels far away.
Mrs. Claus absolutely dissociates in the rocking chair after a 14-hour toy-production crisis. And who could blame her?
This is a natural nervous-system protection mechanism, a light dissociation that says:
“There is too much coming at me. I need distance to survive this moment.”
That’s self-preservation.
And it is more common in mothers than anyone admits.
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If You Recognize Yourself in These Signs…
Let this land gently:
Nothing about you is broken.
Your nervous system is doing exactly what it was designed to do — protect you.
But mothers were never meant to do this alone.
Not the emotional labor.
Not the holiday orchestration.
Not the invisible responsibilities.
And certainly not the pressure to “be grateful” while drowning.
You deserve rest.
You deserve resourcing.
You deserve support.
You deserve a village that understands nervous-system literacy as a form of maternal care.
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A Final Word from the North Pole (and from me)
Mrs. Claus doesn’t do it all. She does what she can, with the heart she has, inside the season she’s in.
So do you.
If the holidays feel heavy this year, let grace be your anchor.
Step outside for one deep breath.
Say no to the thing you don’t have capacity for.
Let the dishes wait.
Let perfection go.
Let your body speak and believe it.
Because the more you honor your nervous system, the safer your children feel inside theirs.
And maybe that’s the real magic of this season:
Not the lights.
Not the gifts.
Not the rituals.
But a mother who finally hears her own quiet whisper… and says gently,
“I’m listening.”
So this holiday season, may you give yourself permission to:
lower the bar
feel what you feel
rest when you can
let magic be simple
and remember that the mother holding it all deserves holding too.
And with that, I’ll be signing off until the new year, tending to my own North Pole filled with school events, Christmas parties, kid birthdays, travel, and more.
Thank you for allowing me into your world.
See you in 2026!