It isn’t a perfect beer. There was chaos in the creation: Homecoming Trials & Tribulations, Packermania, a near explosion, a few too many dark grains, and more laughter than precision some days. But honestly, isn’t that what family Christmases are all about? The good intentions, the small disasters, the moments that never go to plan but somehow end up exactly as they should.

That’s why Wendtmas Cheer means so much to us. It’s our nod to the Griswolds,  and maybe a little to ourselves, that endless pursuit of the perfect holiday and the joy that comes from embracing the imperfections instead. The creation of this beer fits that theme so perfectly it almost feels scripted: the chaos, the humor, the heart.

All Roads Lead to Cheer…

Homecoming was behind us. Our oldest son, Stellan, had been on court this year, which meant two full days of commitment…smiling parents, photos, and that endless carousel of teenage moments you know you’ll never get back. The football game went as expected…another loss to the same private Catholic school our boys used to attend.

Sitting in those stands, I found myself quietly grateful for the choice we made years ago. For us, it was never about chasing a school we could brag about, not the records, not the uniforms, not the appearance of success. It’s always been about raising boys who are known for their hearts and their character, not their statistics.

We chose a smaller, academically driven public school that focuses on who they’re becoming after the classroom…not just the status they earn inside it. A place that values curiosity, empathy, and integrity. Both of our boys have flourished there: one finding his confidence and voice, learning to lead with authenticity; the other, leaning into his quiet determination and artistic gift with a calm that feels far beyond his years.

Our faith has always been the foundation beneath it all, a deep belief in something bigger, in God’s guidance, in grace that isn’t confined to walls, rituals or uniforms. My own roots in the Catholic church run deep, but I’ve learned that faith doesn’t need to be loud to be real. It’s in the way we love, the way we teach our boys, and the way we try to live with purpose and gratitude every day.

By Sunday, we’d traded the homecoming chaos for Lambeau Field. Packers vs. Bengals. Packers won 27–18. It was one of those flawless Wisconsin fall days… upper 50s, the kind of light that moves between sun and cloud like it’s dancing. We pregamed at a house just a few blocks from the stadium, music and laughter spilling out into the cool air, before wandering through the Titletown area and taking in the day.

Anyone who’s ever been to Wisconsin (and especially to Lambeau) knows that Packers fans are a different breed. There’s a warmth to it all, a friendliness that’s baked into our DNA. On game day, Ashwaubenon becomes something sacred: brats sizzling, beer in hand, music, chatter and laughter weaving through the crowd, strangers hugging like they’ve known each other forever. There’s no greater buzz than just being there; the hum of joy that builds until it’s electric.

My good friend, Katelynn and her husband were with us. One of the few people in my life I let all the way in, the kind of friend who’s as close as family. She doesn’t usually drink much, but she’d pregamed a little too hard that afternoon. Before kickoff, I could already see it in her eyes, that faint, glassy look of someone trying to steady herself. She was pale, quiet, determined to power through. I stayed close, made sure she had water, a cool place to sit, and a little grace to hang on to. She made it through the whole game…a trooper in every sense, because if that would have been me…I would’ve been on the crusty, toilet-paper littered ground curled around the toilet until Chad convinced an attendant to drag me out of there so he could get me in the car and our way home to sober up in our own bed..and probably stopping a few times along the way to let me empty my guts on the side of some Wisconsin back road.

That’s the thing about her though, she’s all heart. And when you love someone like that, you take care of them the way you’d want someone to take care of you. That’s what you do when someone you love needs steady more than words.

That brings us to brew day…

So, after a weekend full of people and noise and constant motion, Monday felt like mercy. The house was still. Light pressed softly through the kitchen window, gray and muted, and the air that drifted in smelled of wet leaves and earth. Chad took the day off, and we brewed.

We’d been wanting to do this for a couple of years, and the timing finally felt right, our first Wendtmas Cheer, a holiday ale inspired by Shiner Cheer but built from pieces of our own story: Georgia peaches that remind us of family memories at Brett’s (Chad’s twin’s) place in Newnan, Door County cherries from our favorite local getaway, and the cozy, familiar comfort of toasted pecans. Fall is our season…Harry Potter, chili, sweats, and everything that feels like home. A beer meant for Christmas, for family, for the laughter that lingers long after the glasses are empty.

As always, Chad brought my idea to life. I’m the creator; he’s the doer. I wander…between the house and the garage, checking in, taking in the day…while he’s already one step ahead. Focused, steady, cleaning as he goes, watching the clock, the temperature, reviewing and re-reviewing the recipe. I dream, he grounds, and somehow it always works.

I spent most of the day on one of the couches in our garage lounge with my MacBook open; Canva on one screen, Chat on the other…deep in that familiar loop of creative focus, frustration, and fine-tuning. Nudging, refining, obsessing over every line, making sure the label became exactly what I saw in my head. And as mush as I love Chat, I also loathe the ever-living-f*ck out of him too! Sometimes, no, OFTENTIMES, I think he’s not worth the frustrations! Because in the time it takes to direct him in the path that I want him, I probably could’ve taught myself how to do it the way I want it…or at least made a better job at pretending I know what I’m doing better than him/it!!!!

Anyways, the hum of the brew day was behind me, the smell of mash and hops in the air, Chad moving in rhythm just a few steps away. For a few hours, everything was easy. No noise. No rush. Just us. Working side by side, each lost in our own kind of focus, finding peace in the motion of something we love.

A few days later, things got… lively….

Chad and our youngest, Claesson, were downstairs doing their strength training when Claesson stopped mid-rep and asked, “Dad… what’s that noise?” He’s endlessly curious. Always noticing, always tuned in. Turns out, his curiosity saved the day.

The fermenter was seconds away from exploding. Chad moved fast…half in workout mode, half in panic..grabbing tubing, setting up a blow-off line, and managing to contain the chaos just in time.

Meanwhile, I was upstairs, stretched out on the couch by the fire, completely unaware, until Chad came up, breathing heavy from his workout and the rescue, to tell me what had just happened. He was equal parts proud and out of breath, praising Claesson like he’d just saved Christmas.

Which, honestly, he kind of did.
Because if Christmas is about the birth of our Savior, then this year’s Wendtmas Cheer had one too…our very own little savior, Claesson, protector of beer and bringer of calm in the chaos. 😂

Bottle it up!

When it came time to bottle, the air already carried that early-fall chill that makes everything smell like woodsmoke and endings. We added the pecan tincture to the bottling bucket and began transferring the beer. Sampling before bottling has become a small tradition for us. Our moment to see what the beer is trying to be before it’s sealed away.

Since, it was another classic fall evening…the perfect mix of cozy and anticipation…I queued up Harry Potter (as we always do when the weather feels right for it), and the soft glow from the TV danced against the kitchen walls while we worked.

When we poured that first taste, we both knew immediately it wasn’t what we’d envisioned. The color was darker, the flavor heavier. Smooth but bold, the fruit quietly hiding behind the malt. You could tell the ingredients were all there, but the balance was off. It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t the Wendtmas Cheer we had hoped for.

Chad took one sip, set his glass down, and gave me that look..the one that said he already knew where he went wrong. He’s infuriatingly calm in those moments, and he’s almost always right. “I know what happened,” he said, his voice half sigh, half smirk.

He’d had the shop grind all the grains together, including the darker ones, instead of keeping them separate until the end. Too much steeping, too much color. Too much everything we hadn’t meant to emphasize.

And, of course, he was right. (I’ll give him that one…just this once 😜.)

We made a few notes for next year, and kept sipping anyway. The pecans came through beautifully. The fruit was shy, but you could tell it wanted to grow bolder. We’ll tweak the recipe next year. Lighten the grain bill, let the fruit lead, and split the batch in two:
🍒 Christmas Eve: Peach, cherry, and pecan. Cozy, round, nostalgic.
🍊 Christmas Morning: Orange, vanilla, and pecan. Bright, soft, made for slow mornings and Pillsbury Orange Rolls.

This first batch might not have hit every note, but it found its place anyway. A little darker. A little bolder. Still ours.

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We brewed this one for our Griswold (Wendt) family; to share, to gift, to laugh over. But it’s also for the ones who aren’t with us anymore. We miss Chad’s Grandma and Grandpa every year. Their laughter, their warmth, their unwavering love for family and tradition. They’re in every Christmas memory we hold close, and now, in a small way, they’re in this beer too.

And, of course, we couldn’t do any of this without our boys, Stellan and Claesson, our biggest (and often quietest) supporters. They may not be there for every step of the brewing process, but they’re always part of it. They’re the reason behind so much of our laughter, our drive, and our joy. Our favorite family, through and through.

Because Wendtmas Cheer isn’t just about the beer. It’s about family; the beautiful, unpredictable, loyal, laughter-filled kind. The ones who show up, make a mess, forgive quickly, and love completely.

So here’s to the chaos.
Here’s to the joy.
Here’s to family — ours, and yours.

Merry Wendtmas, from our family to yours.
❤️💚❤️💚 Ashley, Chad, Stellan & Claesson Wendt, We Wendt There Brewing