This post is a Hallmark sponsored post. I am being paid by Hallmark to write it, but all writing, ideas and opinions are mine. Thankfully, Hallmark and I share the same idea–that little moments are to be celebrated and that good people, good efforts and good intentions deserve a spotlight. See Hallmark Life is a Special Occasion for more details, like them on Facebook, and/or sign up for their e-mail messages HERE.

The very first sobering fact of motherhood that I learned just moments after I earned my title was that the unknown–the fear of what we can’t control–can be paralyzing. After finally taking Lainey home from the hospital and receiving the “all clear” for her early health problems, I was relieved yet terrified that our “all clear” was temporary.

And that’s the reality of motherhood–“All clear” is always temporary. No one can guarantee permanent good fortune.

I remember calling my sister in tears on one of those first days, needing to tell someone–anyone–that I loved her so much. “When will this feeling, this worry go away?” I asked.

I’ll never forget her answer: “It never goes away. You just find a place for it.”

I soon found the most foolproof way to soften the fear of what we can’t control. I canceled it out by grabbing the wheel of what we can control and taking that ship to the moon.

We, of course, literally did that these last weeks–grabbing the wheel and driving toward the summer memories we wanted our girls to have, the ones we have from days when our own parents drove toward cottages and landmarks, lakes and campgrounds.

Last week was summer solstice, the peak of childhood nostalgia. There are childhood memories for all of us from which we want to protect our children–divorce and bullying, broken friendships or struggling in school. But summer? I think it brought out the best of many families, and I will make certain it brings out the best in ours.

We repeat history–our favorite parts of it–and add pages of our own family to the greater legacy–volumes of summer memories over generations.

Why else do you think Brett so badly wanted Lainey to catch that fish last week?

He remembers what it felt like.

And I remember the thrill of catching fireflies in jars, making homemade slip ‘n slides with garbage bags and dish soap, cousin Olympics in the backyard, sprinklers, Sleeping Bear Dunes, Tawas rock shops and turning the hatch back of our gold Citation into a bed for long road trips.

Good God–stripe-obsessed, much? Even then.

Our parents passed the torch. We will feed the flames, inspired by the sentimental depth of our own summer memories.

True, there is so much we can’t control in parenthood. But how we spend these next weeks, midsummer–that we can control. Grab the wheel and take this ship to the moon.

Just like our parents did.

What summer memory from your childhood are you most looking forward to passing on to your own children? Are there any summer then-and-now moments you’d like to share, any landmarks from summer vacations you’ll make sure your own family visits? Hallmark and I would love to hear how you plan to repeat your favorite parts of summer history.

To see other Hallmark posts on this blog, click HERE.

This post is a Hallmark sponsored post. I am being paid by Hallmark to write it, but all writing, ideas and opinions are mine. Thankfully, Hallmark and I share the same idea–that little moments are to be celebrated and that good people, good efforts and good intentions deserve a spotlight. See Hallmark Life is a Special Occasion for more details, like them on Facebook, and/or sign up for their e-mail messages HERE.

I am notorious for mixing up music lyrics. To this day, I still mumble through the first line of that “you give love a bad name” Bon Jovi song because I’m not sure if it’s “Shock to the Heart“ or “Shot through the Heart“ or something else that starts with Sh- and ends with Heart. I’m not very good with numbers either. I forget birthdays and still use my calculator in the grocery store. So you would think with my history of both botched lyrics and number miscalculations, I’d slaugter the famous Rent song, “Seasons of Love.” But no. I know that there are exactly 525,600 minutes in a year, and I can belt it–on tune–in the shower, in the car, and in the hair color aisle of Target with my friend Andrea when she’s randomly signaled it’s one of those days. You know, grocery-shopping-turned-Broadway-play days (the third Tuesday every month).

It’s an important number to know–even more important than your Social Security number, if you ask me. I might not be a math whiz, but I can certainly tell you that 525,600 minutes translates to: “Time’s Ticking; Enjoy Life.”

Which brings me to the theme of this post: Celebrate.

Ah, my favorite theme. I dig celebration. I yearn for holidays, I lose my breath at the sight of balloons, I hang colored lights on our lanai year round. And while yes, I can’t deny that life calls for serious and mundane and responsibility, shouldn’t that be all the more reason to infuse it with color? I think about this a lot having kids–wondering what their memories will be and how their childhood will be painted years later. They will know love and peace, yes. That’s a given. But amidst all that love, I hope there are interesting stories of celebration. How we lit candles and played music, danced in our pajamas in the moonlight, created handmade cards for birthdays and holidays, used special cups on special days, joined with neighbors for sparklers and bonfires, baked cupcakes with extra sprinkles, and how we recognized that not one of those 525,600 minutes should be wasted.

And whether it’s a birthday or Father’s Day or maybe something fabulous you created on your own–like Opposite Day or Family Movie Night–there’s a part of us that comes alive when we make efforts to create memorable celebrations amid ordinary routines. Our children paint colorful stories in their books of childhood, but really I think we benefit just as much. Who said our own books of childhood can’t still be scripted? (Read the children’s book Mrs. Muddle’s Holidays–Goodness, I am in love).

Ordinary or Extraordinary, there are little things we can do to make celebrations a little more memorable.

My Five Favorite Tips for Creating Celebrations

1. Light up the Night

Candles. Their flicker spells “this is special.” Turn off the lights at dinner and eat with just a scattering of tea lights, and something triggers within–that memory recorder that preserves all the details. What song was playing, how pretty that table cloth looked, how big your daugther smiled when she realized a simple dinner transformed into a memorable family event.

Candles in cupcakes aren’t just for birthdays either. We’ve been known to light candles on pancakes, cookies, doughnuts–you name it. And, for the record, the five syllables of “Ann-i-ver-sa-ry” can be mumbled quickly in place of “Birthday” for a lovely “Happy Anniversary to You” melody.

And my personal favorite? Put a few jars and tea lights in your beach bag and stay past sunset. Nothing says “Celebrate” like a quilt surrounded by a dreamy glow, nestled in the sand under the moon.

2. Use the “Good Dishes.”

Reserve special dishes for festive occassions, and make a nice fuss over events when you pull them out. The top shelf in my kitchen cupboard holds our favorites–kid “wine” glasses, the “Queen for a Day” plate, a piece of china my grandma passed down to me, a birthday mug, etc. Lainey knows when we use any of these dishes, it’s a special event. And stem ware? Oh, she thinks she’s so fancy when she gets to use a real wine glass.

3. Dress up.

Clothing is such an easy form of expression and consequently, an easy way to “feel” the extra celebratory tone of a special occassion. I can suddenly turn an ordinary spaghetti dinner into a romantic date just by switching from jeans to a little black dress. Likewise, I’ve watched Lainey’s smile turn from “this is fun” to “Ohhh, this is really special” when she realizes she has something festive to wear, even if it’s pulled from her dress-up trunk. A big hat to a tea party, Christmas jammies on Christmas Eve, socks with blue stars at the Fourth of July parade–all little ways to make a celebration more memorable.

4. “Wow” Factor

So, these aren’t things you do everyday. In fact, I save these for those very special occassions like New Years and family reunions and welcoming babies with friends–ceremonious celebrations. Sky lanterns and sparklers, our weapons of choice. Like candles, but more grand. We’ve made wishes, said thank you’s and shouted Happy Birthdays under the enchanting glow of rising lanterns, and we’ve written our names with a stream of sparks. The underlying message…life is grand.

5. Finally my favorite celebration tip: Become Acquainted with my friend, Spontaneity.

The best way to celebrate? Spice it up. Do it differently. Get excited about something you haven’t been excited about in a long time. Try breakfast for dinner. Sleeping bags in the living room on a Friday night. Throw a few drops of food color to make green eggs and ham. Drag blankets outside and tell your kids it’s “National Read Outside Day” even though you made that up.

Stay up a little later, go for a moon walk, buy water balloons, make a scavenger hunt in your back yard. And next time it storms, turn your garage into a storm theater. Eat popcorn. Rate the thunder. Smile.

There are 525,600 minutes in a year. How will you celebrate?

I know you all have unique ways you celebrate little moments with your families. Summer’s almost here. Do you have any favorite traditions? Any made-up holidays or special things you do to transform ordinary events in your home to memorable occasions? Hallmark and I would love to hear your stories. In your comment, please share the special ways you celebrate to help make your year–all 525,600 minutes of it–a special occasion.

To see other Hallmark posts on this blog, click HERE.

This post is another Hallmark sponsored post. I am being paid by Hallmark to write it, but all writing, ideas and opinions are mine. Thankfully, Hallmark and I share the same idea–that little moments are to be celebrated and that good people, good efforts and good intentions deserve a spotlight. See Hallmark Life is a Special Occasion for more details, like them on Facebook, and/or sign up for their e-mail messages HERE.

Upon our arrival from Baltimore Monday evening, we walked in the house to find a (surprisingly) spotless kitchen and a stack of mail on the counter, the bills and coupons and car wash ads of which Brett had thankfully already weeded out. Hidden between a couple packages and my favorite catalogues was an envelope with Lainey’s name printed on it.

“Oh Lainey, it looks like you have mail!” I announced. And just like her mail-loving mama, my girl came running, her shy smile enhanced with a sideways tongue that curls up and around her top lip when she’s extra enthused.

She tore open the envelope herself, shooing away helping hands and pulling the enclosed card to her chest in a moment of sole possession—“It’s mine, not yours” clearly evident from her grip. She pulled it away long enough to notice a photo of her friend Sammy printed on the front of the card. Her smile stretched even further. Without even having to read the card, she knew what it was.

“It’s Sammy’s birthday,” she informed me. “I think I’m invited to her party.” More shy smile. More tongue.

She insisted I call Sammy’s mom right that second and tell her yes, Lainey was coming; Lainey couldn’t wait. And for the rest of the night she carried that card, propping it up within eye contact while she played and transferring it with her when she moved from room to room.

To Lainey, it was personal. Her own mail, a token of friendship she could hold, she could touch, she could pull out whenever she wanted to be reminded that she had good friends and a party on the horizon. If she’s lucky, that card is one of many that will follow over the years.

Tonight Sammy’s birthday invitation is tucked into a Minnetonka shoe box—Lainey’s own little Ark of the Covenant protecting her most precious things. Like sparkly lip gloss, a homemade pipe cleaner necklace, an old Gap credit card and a wrinkled dollar bill.

And it got me thinking, we’ve all acquired letters and cards we’ve saved over the years–things we couldn’t throw away because maybe they made us feel so good when we first read them that we knew we’d want to repeat that emotional swell. Or maybe we were hanging on to a time we knew was fleeting—like first birthday cards that preserve our babies’ memorable celebrations or handwritten notes from grandmas whose legacies strengthen once they are gone. Either way, the gift of written word is both permanent and renewable. The cards and notes and e-mails I’ve saved over the years are hardly one hit wonders. They are timeless—some reread on occasion when I need a hit of confidence or motivation, and some saved simply to become relics in the Family Hall of Fame. I envision a night not so far away when I pull out the old boxes of pictures and cards and letters on worn paper. I’ll spread them out on my bed and invite my girls to come sit while I tell them about why I saved each one. It will be one of those Marmee-and-her-Little-Women moments I look forward to except the 2020 version when things are delightfully more imperfect. Like maybe I won’t be wearing a petticoat.

So, what’s in my box?

Today I pulled out a few old boxes–one of which, I’m sorry to say, is titled “Box ‘o Love,” its contents ranging from pictures of the early days of dating to love letters and anniversary cards Brett and I have traded over the years. I’m even more sorry to say there are embarrassing quotes scribbled all over its surface—including both Elizabeth Barrett Browning and—Oh God, cringe, here it comes…Olivia Newton John.

I had forgotten all that I had saved. I’ve never been so proud to be a hoarder.

Lainey’s First Birthday Card
Her very first card. It came a week before her birthday when our friends and neighbors, Matt and Dede, were so excited to give her her new rocking horse that they brought it over a week before the big day to watch her open it. It came with the perfect card–because Dede always finds the perfect cards–and I remember making note that it was the very first birthday card my girl had ever received and should be saved.

Student Teaching Card
A young girl named Abby gave me a card my last day of student teaching. I cried reading it because Abby wasn’t one to speak up about feelings, and I had underestimated the impact a short teaching experience could make in one child’s life. It reminds me to be aware of my potential to positively affect others.

Letters for the Future
I started writing these when Lainey was about four months old. They are sealed in envelopes printed with different occassions with which they will be presented. The seal is not to be broken until it’s read by my daughter. I figure some day when she’s really mad at me, a different perspective might help iron out our problems–the perspective, of say, a mama smitten with her baby, telling the future girl inside that mamas make mistakes sometimes.

Nella’s Wishes
I couldn’t read them for a while after she was born. There’s a whole stack of them–wishes and love to our sweet girl, all written by friends who attended my baby shower when Nella was still somersaulting behind the tight skin of my middle. On the back of each card is a different photo of my pregnant belly–and scribbled on the front are cherished words from friends who awaited her arrival. I can’t wait to read them to her someday–to tell her just how much she was anticipated; how much she was loved before she even made her big debut.

My Index Card
Brett is a man of very few words when it comes to cards which nicely balances my need to fully express. He relies on Hallmark writers, marking a very special occassion when he adds more than one line to the pre-printed sentiments of holiday cards. So it was indeed something special when, after one year of marriage and a baby, I found an index card–nothing fancy–lying on my night stand one morning, with several sentences–all of them heartfelt, none of them forgotten. I love that card. I love that it is simple. I love that it is now bent at the corners and worn in the middle–I’ve read it many times. There’s no photo of it because it’s ours and it is precious, and some things Marmee likes to keep for just her little women.

There are many more words I’ve preserved in places where I can read them again–e-mails and quotes that are filed away in folders for bad days and needed confidence boosts. As many times as I’ve enjoyed them and refueled, I am reminded I too have the ability to make someone’s day–to send an e-mail or a card that just might be read again. That might be saved in a moccassin box next to lipgloss and a wrinkled dollar bill.

Do you have any letters or cards you’ve saved? What correspondence from your past still motivates and reassures you today? Hallmark and I would love to hear your stories. In your comment, please share how others’ words have helped make your life a special occasion.

To see other Hallmark posts on this blog, click HERE.