Carrie Saum

Once upon a time, I went to Greece. Then I went to a tiny island and didn’t tell anyone. And then I ate a lot of amazing Greek food, hung out with the Australian water polo team who had just competed in the Olympics, and drank Heineken all day from a can.

We had no turkey, no casserole dishes heaped sweet potatoes or creamy green beans, no pies made from scratch, no beautiful table settings or nice dishes to heap our non-existent feast upon.

If you grew up in a typical Christmas tradition, you probably had the same dinner at Thanksgiving and at Christmas.

This delightful mouthful of berries with a hint of lavender blossoms revolutionized the way I saw baking.

Awash in the postpartum anxiety, I felt glued to the couch, unable to mobilize myself to get anything done except the bare basics of being a present.

The holiday season presents numerous opportunities to celebrate and be with people we love and enjoy. It's also a constant source of potential triggers, just waiting to burst to the surface. Infinite stimulation creates a perfect storm to drown all of us in the overwhelm. As fun as the holidays can be, they can be a deep well of anxiety and exhaustion. Over the last decade, I've discovered what works best for me in regards to managing the holiday deluge. So, here's what's worked for me.

As a mom to a child with profound food allergies, I get a little terrified around the holidays. We are joining the Teal Pumpkin Project this Halloween.

Last month, I heard my kid say "I'm sorry" to a complete stranger at Target for no reason.

On a whim, I grabbed some feta cheese at the store and fresh parsley. Then a few sweet peppers, cucumbers, garlic, yogurt, dill and mint found their way into my cart, as well. What transpired was nothing short of an absolute inspiration.

My grandmother planted these gorgeous Meyer lemon trees