Last week, I watched a mom in Target crying in the toy aisle. Her cart was overflowing with boxes, her phone was buzzing with notifications, and her little one was tugging on her sleeve asking for "just one more thing." I wanted to walk over and give her a hug because, ay, I've been there.

We're three weeks out from winter break, and I can feel it in my classroom. The energy is different. Kids are bouncing off the walls with excitement, sure, but some of my students are carrying something heavier. The weight of wanting things their families can't afford. The pressure of holiday expectations that feel bigger than their little shoulders can handle.

The Gift Anxiety Is Real (For Everyone)

Here's what I've learned after 22 years of teaching and raising two kids: holiday gift anxiety doesn't discriminate. It hits families who are stretching every dollar, and it hits families with plenty in the bank. It's just a different kind of stress.

In my Title I school, I see parents working double shifts to buy the "perfect" gift. I also see parents who feel guilty because they can give their kids everything on their list but worry they're spoiling them. The common thread? We've all bought into this idea that December gifts are somehow a measure of our love.

Pero, can we just stop for a minute? When did we start thinking that presents were report cards for parenting?

What I Tell My Own Kids (And Wish I'd Known Earlier)

My daughter Daniela is in college now, and last week she called me laughing. She was telling her roommate about her favorite childhood Christmas, and it wasn't the year we went overboard with gifts. It was the year we made cookies together for three days straight and delivered them to neighbors.

Marcus, my high schooler, still talks about the Christmas when he was eight and we built a blanket fort in the living room and "camped" there for a week. The gifts that year? Honestly, I can't even remember what we bought him.

Here's what I wish I'd understood when my kids were little: they're not keeping score the way we think they are.

The Classroom Reality Check

Every January, when we come back from break, I do a little informal survey with my fourth graders. I ask them to tell me about their favorite part of winter break. Want to know what they talk about?

Staying up late with cousins. Making tamales with abuela. Playing in the (very rare) Florida cold snap. Building something with dad. Having mom's full attention for a whole afternoon.

The gifts? They mention them, sure. But they're never the highlight reel.

Little Sofia told me her best gift was when her teenage brother actually played video games with her instead of kicking her out of his room. Marcus (different Marcus) was still talking in March about how his dad taught him to change a tire over break.

Practical Ways to Shift the Focus

I'm not saying don't give gifts. I'm saying let's right-size our expectations and remember what we're actually celebrating.

Start a new tradition that costs nothing. This year, try something that creates connection instead of clutter. Maybe it's a family walk around your neighborhood to look at lights. Maybe it's letting each kid pick the dinner menu for one night. Maybe it's having a dance party in your living room.

Talk to your kids about gratitude before the gifts arrive. We do this in my classroom every December. We spend five minutes each morning sharing something we're grateful for that isn't a thing. It shifts their focus in ways that surprise me every year.

Set realistic expectations early. If money is tight this year, have that conversation now. Kids are more resilient than we give them credit for. They can handle honesty better than they can handle the stress we carry when we're trying to hide our worries.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Here's something I learned the hard way: presence really is better than presents.

The year Daniela was in third grade, I was working two jobs and stressed about money. I bought fewer gifts but spent more time. We read together every night. We baked bread from scratch. We had "yes days" where she got to pick our activities.

Years later, she told me it was the year she felt most loved.

Our kids don't need us to go into debt to prove we care. They don't need the latest everything to feel valued. They need us to be present, to listen, to play, to create memories that don't come with price tags.

For My Teacher Friends

If you're reading this and feeling the pressure too, remember: your worth as an educator isn't measured by the gifts you give your students or the elaborate classroom celebrations you plan.

Your students need your calm energy more than they need elaborate holiday parties. They need you to notice when they're feeling left out, to include everyone in classroom celebrations, and to remind them that their value isn't tied to what they receive.

The Real Gift

The mom in Target that day? I didn't go over and hug her, but I did smile when I saw her later. She'd put half the cart back and was sitting on the floor playing with her daughter in the toy aisle. They were laughing.

That's the gift, mijas. The laughter. The connection. The moment when we remember that love isn't something we buy, it's something we give freely every day.

This December, let's give ourselves permission to do less and be more. Our kids will thank us for it, even if they don't realize it yet.

What traditions are you starting this year that cost nothing but time? I'd love to hear about them. We're all figuring this out together, and sometimes the best gift we can give each other is knowing we're not alone in this beautiful, messy journey of raising kids.