I was excited when the mockup for my latest picture book arrived in the mail. The cover of When an Octopus Crashes Your Party was colorful, imaginative, and fun. I eagerly flipped through the pages, scanning for typos or layout issues, and found a couple. A week later, during the swirl of Thanksgiving preparations, the revised mockup arrived. My daughter—who has two boys, a middle schooler and a high school freshman—picked it up while I was working in the kitchen. I was expecting her to comment on how lively the cover was, so when she suddenly started to giggle, I set down my potato masher and joined her.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Mom,” she said, pointing, “Twinkle Toes is picking his nose.”

I blinked. Sure enough, one of the octopus’s eight tentacles was squarely inside his nose. Somehow, in all of my careful reviewing—checking flow, grammar, and format—I had completely missed that detail. My daughter spotted it in two seconds.

We shared a laugh together, and I felt a rush of relief that it hadn’t gone to press yet. But as I returned to my Thanksgiving duties, I kept thinking about how easily I’d overlooked something so obvious. How could I have missed a tentacle in the nose?

Probably the same way I miss plenty of things—especially as the holiday season picks up speed.

Christmas has a way of turning even the calmest among us into multitasking whirlwinds. Many of us rush from store to store. We stress about baking, decorating, wrapping, planning, writing cards, and attending events. We’re so focused on “getting things done” that we stop truly seeing what’s around us.

That Thanksgiving giggle with my daughter reminded me that, despite my best intentions, I might be racing past the very moments that make the season meaningful.

So this Christmas, I’m determined to set down my potato masher a little more often and practice the art of noticing.

Last night, my husband and I drove around the block just to notice how the full moon lit up our neighborhood’s wintry scene. We took the long way through the Dells so we could appreciate the Christmas lights without hurrying.

I also intend to spot the kindnesses happening all around me—people like Betsy Grant, who help coordinate Wreaths Across America to honor our veterans. Service groups like Kiwanis, which deliver fruit and food baskets to brighten people’s days. The clerk, who has already stood for eight hours, but still smiles and says, “Happy Holidays.” The teachers, choir members, and volunteers who pour themselves into concerts, programs, and community meals.

These are the quiet gifts of the season—not wrapped, not under a tree, but woven into our days. They’re easy to miss unless we slow down and look.

And yes, I want to notice the fun little details, too. The joy of watching our puppy wiggle her butt with happiness as she sniffs her stocking filled with jerky. The flash of a red cardinal against fresh snow. The way friends lean in a little closer during a funny story we’ve been eager to tell. These are the small delights that make the holidays sparkle.

If a tentacle in the nose escaped my attention, what other Christmas joys and chuckles am I missing without even realizing it? This year, I’m determined to find out. And along the way, I’d love to share a few of those smiles with you.

I hope you’ll join me for the book launch of When an Octopus Crashes Your Party on January 9th at 1:00 p.m. at the Dells Library. I’ll be bringing along that original nose-picking cover—it’s simply too good not to share.

Here’s wishing your holidays are filled with laughter, kindness, and the simple joy of noticing.