There’s something about December that asks us to pause. Even in the middle of all the glitter, gatherings, and gift lists, there’s this quiet undercurrent—like your home is whispering, make space. Not just physical space, but breathing space. Emotional space. Light and softness where things feel heavy or overstuffed.
And let me tell you, I used to ignore that whisper. I’d push through the holiday chaos, telling myself I’d “reset in January.” But year after year, I’d hit New Year’s Eve exhausted, surrounded by post-holiday clutter, wondering why I didn’t feel refreshed.
So one winter—not during a grand declutter or deep clean—but in a quiet hour while folding laundry, I tried something different. I asked, What can I shift now, gently, to help December feel a little more clear? Not overhaul. Not perfection. Just little resets. And it changed everything.
The December Home Reset became a kind of rhythm in our house. Not a to-do list—but a way of making room for more presence and less pressure. More ease, less “should.”
These are the eleven changes I come back to year after year—small, meaningful shifts that help our space feel lighter, brighter, and just a little more like us again.
1. I Clear Just One Surface—And Let It Stay Empty for a Day
It always starts here. One flat surface. The kitchen counter. A dresser top. The coffee table that somehow turns into a drop zone for every random item in the house.
I clear it off and don’t immediately replace it with something Pinterest-worthy. I leave it blank for at least 24 hours—no seasonal candle, no bowl of pinecones. Just empty. Space. It always feels strange and refreshing all at once.
Something about the absence creates possibility. It invites a pause. And then, if I do decide to style it later, I’m doing it intentionally—not by habit.
Research in the Journal of Neuroscience shows that clutter competes for our attention, making it harder for the brain to focus. Even small decluttered spaces can reduce mental load.
2. I Give the Entryway a Breath of Fresh Air
In winter, our front entry becomes a dumping ground: boots, mismatched mittens, shopping bags, half-unpacked mail. And it’s the first thing we see when we walk in.
One December, I took ten minutes to sweep, shake out the rug, and clear out summer shoes (why were they still there?). I didn’t buy a new bench or add a fancy storage system. Just shifted things. Gave the space a little breath.
Now I do this early each December—before guests come, before the holiday rush—so we get to enjoy that reset feeling first.
3. I Let Go of Decorations That Don’t Feel Like “Us” Anymore
I used to hang on to every ornament, garland, and holiday trinket like it held the secrets to Christmas joy. But when I finally let go of the ones that felt dusty or obligatory, our home actually felt warmer.
Now I ask: Does this bring us joy? Or just nostalgia guilt? Not every decoration has to stay forever. It’s okay to evolve.
I’ve passed things on to friends, donated pieces to the thrift shop, and even repurposed some into simple crafts with the kids. We keep what feels like home—not what fills the bins.
4. I Open the Windows (Yes, Even in December)
There’s something oddly magical about cracking the windows on a chilly morning. Just five or ten minutes. Fresh air. A little reset for the energy in the room.
We layer up in robes and fuzzy socks, and it becomes a ritual: open the window, breathe in the cold, let it carry the stale away. Then close it and cozy up again.
Even the kids notice. The air feels different. The room feels different. It’s not a big thing—but it shifts the whole tone of the day.
5. I Rotate Our Toys and Books for the Season
We don’t do giant toy purges in December. We rotate. A few bins get packed away, and a few quieter, cozier toys come out—wooden blocks, puzzles, play silks, seasonal books that feel like winter.
I started doing this to make space for holiday gifts, but I’ve kept doing it because it makes the whole house feel calmer. Less overwhelmed.
And the best part? The kids actually play more with what’s out. It’s like giving their imaginations room to breathe.
6. I Wash the Curtains or Just Shake Them Out
This one’s small—but oddly transformative. Dust gathers in places we don’t notice, and curtains (especially in winter) hold onto a lot of it. So I take one morning and either wash them or, if I don’t have time, give them a good shake and a sunbath by the window.
The light comes in differently afterward. The whole room feels clearer. I didn’t believe it until I tried it. Now it’s one of my favorite “tiny wins.”
7. I Keep a Candle or Essential Oil Nearby and Use It Often
Smell is one of the fastest ways to shift a mood. But instead of saving my favorite scents for guests, I use them in the most ordinary moments—folding laundry, wiping the counters, starting dinner prep.
This December, I’ve been rotating warm vanilla, spruce needle, and sweet orange. Just one at a time. Not to “fix” anything—just to anchor me. A tiny sensory reset.
It’s like telling my nervous system, you’re safe here.
8. I Set a Soft Tone with Lighting, Not Just Decor
We think of decorations first in winter, but lighting is often the thing that truly changes a space. I don’t mean buying new lamps—I mean using what we have with more intention.
Warm bulbs instead of cool. Fairy lights around a window. A table lamp instead of overheads in the evening.
We even have one tiny salt lamp in the hallway that stays on at night. It’s comforting in a way I didn’t expect. A quiet glow, like a breath held just a moment longer.
9. I Clear Out the Medicine Drawer + Snack Cupboard
December’s a good time to peek into the places we reach for most but clean out least. For us, that’s the medicine drawer and snack shelf.
I’m always amazed how many empty boxes or expired things I find. And how clearing just those two areas somehow makes our mornings run smoother.
You don’t need to organize your entire pantry. Just start where the dailiness lives. That’s usually where the reset matters most.
10. I Create a “Comfort Station” for Rest Days
This one came out of a week when everyone had sniffles. I gathered tissues, teas, cozy socks, a thermometer, and some favorite books into a basket—and now it’s a seasonal staple.
We keep it in a corner near the couch, and it’s where we go on slow afternoons or low-energy days. A soft landing spot.
You can tailor it for whatever your family needs—coloring books, heating pads, a playlist, even snacks. It doesn’t need to be fancy to feel like care.
The Danish concept of hygge—often linked to cozy living—isn’t just about decor, but about creating an environment of intentional comfort and connection. It’s less about things and more about feeling held by your space.
11. I Let One Room Stay Undone (On Purpose)
This one might feel counterintuitive. But in December, when so much is about preparing and perfecting, I pick one room to leave a little undone. A laundry basket half-folded. A corner with Legos. A bookshelf I haven’t dusted yet.
Not because I’m ignoring it—but because I’m choosing not to spiral into over-functioning.
It reminds me to rest. To focus on what’s working. To let my home be alive, not a showroom.
Rhythm Reminders
Little nudges I’d send you in a voice memo if we were swapping mama stories
- Start with one flat surface—clear it, and don’t fill it right away. Let it breathe.
- Open the window, even if it’s cold—let winter air stir something new.
- Use your best candle or scent for everyday moments, not just company.
- Rotate toys and books with the season—less clutter, more calm play.
- Let one corner be imperfect on purpose. You’re allowed to leave space unedited.
Let the Light In, Gently
A December reset doesn’t need to be dramatic or perfect. It can be a quiet clearing. A shift in how the sunlight moves through the room. A drawer that closes without a jam. A softer place to land at the end of a long, full day.
These small changes aren’t just about tidying your space. They’re about honoring the season you’re in—inside and out. Slowing down enough to say: This matters. This is enough. I don’t need to wait until January to feel clear again.
So if your house feels a little too full or a little too dim, let this be your invitation to reset. Not with pressure, but with peace.
Start small. Light a candle. Open a window. Choose one surface.
And let December meet you there.
