First 100K: November Update – Run Up To X-mas

There’s something about November that makes everything taste a little richer. Maybe it’s the colder air. Maybe it’s the fact I’m running on fewer hours of sleep than any human should. Or maybe it’s because I had, without exaggeration, the best hot chocolate of my life.

Tahini and rose.
Nutty, floral, warm.
A hug disguised as a drink.

Naturally, I didn’t get to enjoy it alone. My partner swooped in with the casual authority of someone who believes all superior beverages should be shared. And the toddler? They went straight for the rose petals floating on top, scooping them up with a tiny teaspoon like it was the most normal thing in the world. Apparently, rose flavouring is now toddler-approved. Who knew.

November has been a month of these small, gentle joys — scattered among the usual chaos of colds, naps (refused), naps (attempted), and the run-up to Christmas. But before we get fully cosy, let’s talk numbers.

Because this is, after all, a First 100K update.

FI Progress in November (My Slow and Steady First 100K Path)

Here’s where we landed:

• Opening balance: £21,802
• Invested this month: £236
• Growth: £48
• Closing balance: £22,067

No fireworks. No chart-busting leaps. Just… steady.

And honestly? I’m proud of that.

I’m fully in the accumulation phase now — that slow, almost meditative part of the FI journey where time does most of the heavy lifting and your job is simply to keep showing up. Not dramatically. Not perfectly. Just consistently enough that Future You nods approvingly.

November wasn’t a “look at my portfolio soar” month, but it was a “look at me continuing to invest even though life is loud and sniffly” month. And I’ll take that kind of progress any day.

Friends, Food, and a Much-Needed Adult Break

If my soul could send a Thank You card, it would go straight to Dishoom.

We met friends for what felt like the first proper grown-up catch-up in months. Warm lighting, good food, laughter that made my cheeks hurt — the sort of gathering that reminds you you’re still a whole human outside of nappies, nap schedules, and the eternal hunt for missing socks.

There’s something about friendships in this season of life that feels extra precious. Everyone’s juggling something — work, babies, deadlines, burnout, or just the long winter stretch. Sitting down together felt like a little exhale. A moment where time paused and reminded me I’m not doing life alone.

Toddler Adventures: Taller Than the Labels Say

In other November revelations: my toddler is apparently six months taller than children’s clothing brands believe possible.

Honestly, if the tags are to be believed, I might be raising a mild giant.

We solved this by heading straight to the charity shop, where — in a stroke of pure luck — we found the cutest pair of corduroys. I swear they were beaming at me from the hanger. My toddler approved. I approved. The budget approved.

The true comedic moment, however, was rediscovering the ski jacket I’d bought the month before. It’s labelled 2–4 years. My child is under two. Did that stop me? Absolutely not. It’s blue with neon pink stars and brings me disproportionate joy. I maintain this was excellent forward planning, even if they currently resemble a tiny astronaut trying on borrowed gear.

Black Friday? I Barely Noticed (By Accident, Really)

This year, I didn’t heroically resist Black Friday.
I simply… forgot it was happening.

I was listening to a minimalist podcast while folding laundry (as one does) when they casually mentioned it. And there I was, blinking at the wall like, “Oh. Right. That thing.”

It’s funny — the less attention I give to sales seasons, the quieter they become. If it weren’t for podcasts, I might genuinely miss them entirely.

Part of me loves the French approach. A few approved discount windows a year. Simple. Clear. Civilised. Meanwhile, the UK feels like it’s been knee-deep in “pre–Black Friday” discounts since late October. It’s exhausting. And not in a way that benefits anyone except marketing departments.

But while the rest of the world was apparently “saving big,” we were… sick. Again. Another cold, another round of cuddles, another night where my toddler refused sleep as if sleep were a conspiracy.

There was one particularly dreadful night — screaming, biting, tears (them), sighing and breathing deeply (me). But somewhere in the middle of all that noise, I found this odd little pocket of calm. A place where I wasn’t angry or overwhelmed, just slowly rocking a tired baby, reminding myself this won’t last forever.

And thank goodness for the option to put them down safely, step away, and breathe for two minutes. Sometimes that’s the real survival tool.

Thankfully, they’re now back at nursery, eating all their food, charming everyone, and recovering at toddler-speed (which is to say: faster than any adult could dream of).

Little Moments of Joy in the Run Up to Christmas

One thing that surprised me this year: the toddler LOVES Christmas trees. Not Christmas — they don’t really understand that yet — but Christmas trees. Lights especially. We’ve become those people who stop at every window display, pointing out the sparkles as if we’ve discovered actual magic.

My December wish list is simple:

• Lights
• Pub food
• Carols
• A bit of quiet

My partner, meanwhile, has discovered Christmas fairs — a British institution they were blissfully unaware of until this year. Coming from France, where such things are not the norm, they approached their first school or church fair with a mix of curiosity and polite confusion.

“What is this token?” they whispered.
“It’s… currency,” I said.
“For what?”
“For… things?”

Meanwhile, the toddler surveyed the room, identified three tables designed for children their age, and ignored all of them. They marched straight to the arts and crafts corner where a volunteer in a reindeer jumper helped them decorate a festive hat with great seriousness. I still don’t know who enjoyed it more.

These tiny cross-cultural moments are becoming some of my favourite memories.

Spending, Intentional Choices, and Keeping It Simple

Despite vaccines, new clothes, and a month that felt full, our spending stayed surprisingly normal. A few things helped:

• My partner hates “stuff” and hates surprises, so I set them a four-day deadline to choose their Christmas gifts.
• They sent me links for pyjamas and socks (their happy place).
• I ordered them via click-and-collect — the least stressful delivery method known to humankind.
• No worrying about missed parcels or opportunistic package thieves.
• No wandering through shops hoping inspiration strikes.
  Just simple, predictable, calm.

This month didn’t need huge frugality wins to feel balanced. Just a sense of choosing what mattered, skipping what didn’t, and keeping our energy focused on the people we love — including ourselves.

Gentle Questions for the Road

As November slips quietly toward December, I keep coming back to how soft this month felt. Not easy — there were colds and wake-ups and moments where the laundry pile growled at me — but soft.

The simple pleasures stood out the most:
The hot chocolate.
The lights.
The tiny corduroys.
A catch-up with friends that made me feel human.
A toddler in an oversized ski jacket, wobbling like a cheerful penguin.

These are the moments that make the FI journey feel steady and real. Not because they move the numbers, but because they remind me why the numbers matter. Consistency builds both wealth and memories — and some seasons are more about noticing than advancing.

So, as we move into the run-up to Christmas, here are a few questions you might carry with you:

• What small joy are you savouring this season that you might have missed in previous years?
• Where has your energy gone this month, and what did it gently teach you?
• What simple tradition or moment do you want more of in December?
• How does your own FI rhythm feel right now — slow, steady, or quietly shifting?

Wherever you are on your own journey — financial, personal, or seasonal — I hope November gave you at least one small, unexpected joy. Mine came in a cup of tahini and rose hot chocolate, shared with the two people who make everything feel a little warmer.