Ever since I can remember, Thanksgiving has been my favorite holiday of the year. The family time, the food, the joyful anticipation knowing Christmas is just around the corner – it’s the start of the warmest, coziest season of the year. Now, celebrating Thanksgiving as a mom, with a family of my own, feels different. A day that used to start slow, watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and eating breakfast in bed, has now been ramped up to toddler speed and transformed into a louder, stickier, and more chaotic version of my favorite holiday.
Experiencing holidays and traditions through my son’s eyes has been a beautiful and exciting new adventure. From watching him go trick-or-treating for the first time, or seeing his eyes light up at the sight of fireworks and holiday decorations. Thinking back to my own childhood, I realize how much effort my parents put into making the holidays special. They found ways to make the simple parts of the day magical and cemented family traditions. Now, it’s my turn to create that magic. It’s my turn to make our own family traditions, while putting new spins on the ones I grew up with.
San Francisco has always held a special place in our hearts. My husband and I first met there almost eight years ago, and since that day, the city has been woven into the fabric of our story. It’s a city that feels like a second home, full of our earliest memories together. We even got engaged there, on Thanksgiving Day in 2019, on Baker Beach with the Golden Gate Bridge as our backdrop.
Last year was our first Thanksgiving with our son, Ezra, and we spent it right there in San Francisco. We shared it with our family who lives there, and I remember sitting at the dining room table with crispy, blueberry pancakes for breakfast while Ezra’s eyes lit up with joy. We took a long walk along Baker Beach, stopped for coffee at our old stomping grounds, and watched the sun set behind the bridge, reminiscing on the beautiful city where it all started for us.
This year, we’ll spend Thanksgiving in San Francisco again — same city, new season. Ezra’s older now – running, climbing, and jumping on everything. He’s curious about the world, pointing out every dog, bird, and plane that he sees. Seeing the city through his eyes every time we go back makes it feel brand new all over again.
I can already picture him walking (or running) down the streets we roamed, seeing the vastness of the bay and pointing at the bridge in awe. Families like ours push strollers up and down the rolling hills, everyone bundled up, bracing the bay breeze, our cheeks red and our hearts full.
We’re not just creating family traditions and memories, we’re embracing this season of life that we’re in. Maybe it’s the stroller walk around the block while the food’s cooking, maybe it’s the warm blueberry pancakes on a chilly morning, or maybe it’s the afternoon nap we all take before the feast. The simple moments become tradition because we’re spending time together. We’re slowing down to appreciate the simple parts of life, the little things that make us happy. Ezra’s too young to understand what the holiday means, but in a way, he embodies it — finding magic in the simple moments. Thanksgiving with a toddler has taught me that family traditions don’t have to be grand or perfectly planned to be meaningful – they just have to feel like home.
