Hallmark Life is a Special Occasion Archives - Page 4 of 8

Our Easter Best: Hallmark

March 28, 2012 By Kelle

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.

There were two things I always knew when I was a kid—how many more days until my birthday and what holiday was around the bend. Once I understood superlatives, a holiday ranking system was developed with Christmas taking first prize for favorite, Easter coming in at a close second, and Halloween and Thanksgiving tying for third.

Christmas was easy—it was everybody’s favorite and, as a kid, you can’t argue with presents. Easter was a little trickier though. I mean, I know there’s an Easter basket, Peeps, chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, Whopper eggs, pastel-wrapped Snickers, Cadbury—okay, never mind. Clearly, it’s a deserving holiday.

It wasn’t just the candy though. No, there were cheap hats and lace gloves too. And, come Sunday morning, the annual photo of me and my sister in our Easter finest—also known as Little House on the Prarie-meets-Golden Girls fabulousness, the poster children of Glamour “Don’t”s (i.e.: don’t wear polyester, don’t do matchy-matchy, don’t lick your lips so many times before Easter Sunday that you go to church with a rashtache, don’t abide by “Lace is more,” and don’t forget to check your tights for runs). We were like the Hilton sisters, except way more wholesome. And poor. And not blond. And not famous. Okay, we were nothing like the Hilton sisters.

Childhood Easter memories are, for me, a lot about church. My dad was a pastor, my mom the church pianist, and our celebration pivoted around my parents’ church responsibilities. It began with Palm Sunday when we joined other Sunday School kids in a reenactment of the Bible story. One year, we were actually given real palm fronds—a rare sight for Michigan kids—to wave as we walked down the sanctuary aisle singing “Hosanna.” I see palm fronds all the time now and every once in a while, when I lean over to pick a fallen one off our driveway, I say “Hosanna” as I throw it away. Actually, that’s not true.

Come Easter Sunday, our house was lively well before sunrise. As we prepared for early services, we scrounged our drawers for the good tights, slipped into new dresses we had laid out the night before, buckled shiny white patent leather shoes, straightened our gawdawful hats and filled our tiny purses with Chapstick and Jolly Ranchers that would keep us entertained through the boring parts of Sunday service. There was music—always music. The Old Rugged Cross and Because He Lives. And once church was over, we returned home where my mom and dad made it special. Egg hunts and ham dinner and the overall tone we kids loved to feel—that it was not an ordinary day but an exceptional one.

Our own family tradition: Shredded wheat bird’s nests with chocolate eggs (a bag of marshmallows, 3/4 stick of butter, microwave, crumble shredded wheat biscuits and stir until desired consistency. Form into baskets and dry on waxed paper)

Holidays are when I clearly feel the honor of carrying the torch—of repeating traditions and establishing the same kind of celebrations my parents created for us. And the beauty of doing it twenty some years later is that we have fun making it our own. I don’t practice my faith exactly like my parents practiced theirs and I respect and learn from friends who practice different faiths than mine, and yet we all make opportunities this time of year to create meaningful celebrations with our families and our children.

Trying something new this year–painting some of our eggs.

There is music, there is good food, there are lessons we share, there are traditions we continue. I look forward to the next couple weeks and all the ways we make them special—all the ways we make them uniquely ours.

Oh, there will still be ugly hats. There will still be candy. And hey, we live in Florida…let the palm fronds continue.

Easter dinner, Passover Seder or whatever it is you celebrate…let it be colorful, let it be meaningful, let there be memories.

What are your favorite Easter memories? Or, have you started new Easter traditions with your own family? Hallmark and I would love to hear your stories. In your comment, please share how you help make Easter a special occasion.

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

Hallmark: It Takes a Village

February 28, 2012 By Kelle

The Summer of ’06 was a validating summer for me. I was planning our wedding, choosing table linen colors, and my friends took the role of bride cheerleader very seriously. They showed up, wearing t-shirts that said Bridesmaid, and they spent many a night folding programs, gushing over dress choices and saying things bridesmaids are supposed to say. Like “It’s your day!” and “You’re the Bride!” and, my personal favorite, the daily countdown text of “ONLY ___ MORE DAYS!” And yes, it was all caps. Basically, we were one “Let’s Hear it for the Bride” cheer away from a great Saturday Night Live skit.

Most of us didn’t have kids back then, so celebrating the bejesus out of each other was a nice hobby to fill our time. And it really did feel good to support friends that way. A couple weddings followed mine the year after, and I was happy to pay it forward. Bachelorette parties, showers, favor making, picture taking, and talking about upcoming weddings as much as possible at all brunches, happy hours and random rendevous.

Weddings are a really big deal, I get it. But, I think there’s something so equally wonderful–definitely worthy of the same glorification and celebration among friends as a wedding. We don’t get t-shirts made to support the occassion, we don’t host catered receptions to celebrate. And yet I think there is no greater occassion to show up, no better time to celebrate, than when a friend welcomes new life.

My best friend is having a baby next week, and I will be there to celebrate. If there’s one thing Sisterfriend knows how to do, it’s celebrate; and while, yes, I cannot wait to hold her sweet baby, I am also looking forward to the opportunity of showing up. I get asked a lot about my friendships–how we make it work, how we’ve built intimate relationships with each other and kept them. It’s simple. You show up. And the big things in life like having babies? You celebrate. You let your friends know that you are well aware that moment of falling desperately in love with a child they’ve carried for nine months deserves one hell of a hullabaloo.

The old proverb says, “It takes a village to raise a child.” Well, it also takes one to celebrate a child. And I think any mama can agree that one of the best ways to feel loved is when someone loves your child. Which is why I can recall every single person who came to the hospital to see both my girls when they were born. Or why I saved every “Welcome to the World” card I ever received and have them wrapped in ribbon and tucked away in keepsake boxes. You don’t forget these things–not even in the blackened haze of unexpected diagnosis grief. Especially not in the blackened haze of unexpected diagnosis grief.

Having a baby is a life-changing, soul-stretching, glorious occasion, and if there’s one opportunity to deepen a friendship, it’s rallying to celebrate the miracle of birth, the triumph of adoption, the undeniable fact that having your heart stretched with love for a new child is a very, very big deal.

Someday, several years from now, my friends and I will gather for coffee, and we’ll talk about our kids’ college applications. How much car insurance costs for teenagers. How we love our daughter’s boyfriend (Oh God, I hope). But we’ll remember that the depth of our cherished friendships began when we showed up long ago. When we held out our arms to hold each other’s babies for the very first time. When we made mothering an infant seem a little less isolating because we stopped by, we brought meals, we rocked and kissed those newborns and we celebrated.

Because it takes a village.

Do you have a favorite memory from your pregnancy or your child’s birth when you felt celebrated by your friends? Or, have you celebrated a friend’s new baby in a special way? Hallmark and I would love to hear your stories. In your comment, please share how you help make welcoming new life a special occasion.

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

(extra)ordinary: Hallmark

February 7, 2012 By Kelle

I am excited to renew my relationship with a company whose mission I admire–the Hallmark posts will continue this year. 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.

My grandma was not a sophisticated cook by today’s sense of the word. Nothing was “infused,” she loved her pressure cooker, and I’m sure she didn’t know how to pronounce endive. She used white Wonder bread, considered Heinz 57 a fancy condiment and referred to Costco’s vidalia onion salad dressing as “the good stuff.” Her meals were, in a sense, completely ordinary–delicious, well planned, but common. But those who sat at her table found them anything but. It was the thought she expended to transform completely ordinary into memorable. Ketchup was served in a tiny bowl with a cocktail spoon. White bread was nestled into a basket and wrapped in a damask napkin. Sweet relish was poured into a dish that held a story of a missions trip to a faraway place and a kind friend who gave it to her as an anniversary present–and as she prepared meals, she’d tell me these stories. There were special juice glasses for the grandkids, the perfect cookie jar for Fig Newtons and, on reserved occasions, the Cryderman plates–fine china saucers bearing our last name, hand painted in Japanese letters.

I still use my plate today–reserved for special occasions, like an afternoon snack.

Our family remembers the way my grandma turned ordinary occasions into memorable ones, and in motherhood–in life–it goes beyond the kitchen table.

The thing I love about these memories of my grandma, especially now that I’m old enough to understand that grown-up life can sometimes come with a sort of dissatisfying monotony, is that she never expressed discontentment. Perhaps it was her generation when “ain’t nothin’ but a mama and a housekeeper” was a medal of honor (in my opinion, it still is). She was proud to be a pastor’s wife, a faithful housekeeper, a diligent mother to four boys, and she found such contentment in the ordinary–folding laundry, making sandwiches, preparing coffee trays just the way my grandpa liked them. I like to think, though, that her contentment in everyday life went beyond her generational stereotype. That maybe she was content with what some might call an ordinary life because she made efforts to keep things exciting.

Things are different now, yes. Women do more. More is expected of us. That comes with both applause and exhausted sighs. We are powerful, we are tired. We are inspiring, we are overloaded. We are capable, we are stressed. No matter the circumstances though–whether we’re changing diapers everyday, stuck in a cubicle, yawning our way through morning carpool duties, struggling to make ends meet, working long hours to stash money for college and yes, enjoying it along the way–we gain the upper hand when we take time to spice things up. When we grasp the perspective of viewing mundane routines as opportunities to transform ordinary into extraordinary. Wonder bread on fine china.

Rule #1: Wear red shoes. Or red lipstick. Or red underwear. Red is Ordinary’s kryptonite.

While the term extraordinary may sound intimidating, it requires only simple attention. You don’t have to take your kids to Disney World to impress them. In fact, I was surprised when, after a recent day of considerable chaos and not taking the time to be present like I’d have liked, Lainey asked me at the end of the day, “Mama, can we do something special?”

I immediately braced myself to let her down easy. I was exhausted, it was late, and whatever special thing she had in mind–going for ice cream, building a fort, heading to the bookstore–I was sure it wasn’t feasible entertainment.

“What do you mean by special“, I asked? “What would you like to do?”

Wide-eyed and grinning, she replied, “Moon walk.” As if it really was a trip to Disney World.

That night our long, ordinary day was reframed to include a starry onyx sky and lizards that skittered across the moonlit sidewalk. It was sealed with sweet, quiet moments of my girls snuggled in their stroller and was slowed to the rhythm of my steady calm breaths that were synchronized with my stride. The day suddenly seemed anything but ordinary.

Last night’s Full Moon Walk

The moral of that story? Taking time to reframe the mundane doesn’t just benefit our children–it restores our own motivation and perspective. Moon walks have become a special thing in our home. Not every night, but many nights we set out in the dark to count the stars, jump over sidewalk cracks, and hunt for lizards because yes, like remembering my grandma’s cocktail spoons and cookie jars, I want my girls to recall my efforts in creating an extraordinary childhood. But I do it for me too. I am inspired when we drop everything and gear up for a walk, and the contrast of night exploration against our everyday routine feels adventurous and special.

The magnificent thing about all this? It may start as effort but over time, like eating better or exercising, finding ways to create extraordinary from ordinary becomes a way of life. An enjoyable way of life. I don’t think my grandma asked herself at every meal, “Now how do I make this special?” It just came naturally because for so long she had practiced finding ways to create memorable moments.

Likewise, I instinctively respond to my appetite for color, for adventure, for something a little bit different among our common routines. Over the years, we’ve created our own list of simple things that turn monochromatic days into something technicolor.

Like buying balloons…just because.

Pulling the hose out to create our own storm.

Or taking the kid cart to the grocery store to make shopping a little more interesting.

It becomes a delightful challenge–this ordinary transformation, and I find myself eagerly searching for ways to “keep it interesting.” In fact, yesterday afternoon, as I was challenged with keeping the girls entertained while I finished some work, I began stretching my creativity, thinking like my grandma–“WWGD?” And when a simple idea came, I smiled in satisfaction. “Lainey, want to get your bathing suit and go swimming in the bathtub?”

She smiled her delight, and Nella pulled at her shirt in response. I made a cup of tea, lit a candle and dragged my laptop into the bathroom where I finished my work while the girls made cakes out of bubbles, washed three Barbies’ hair and pruned their skin for an hour. Taking baths may be ordinary, but our afternoon bathroom swim party was not.

There is a world of extraordinary opportunities that lie in the realm of ordinary, and we all have ways in which we do simple things to breathe more color into our days. I wear red lipstick, use my favorite coffee cup, carry a good pen, light candles (“A candle is a poor man’s fireplace,” my grandma used to say), make breakfast toasts with my daughters, spray whipped cream smiley faces onto pancakes and take enchanting moon walks when the day is done.

Under the full moon, last night

What do you do?

Hallmark and I would love to hear about the things you do to reframe the mundane. In your comment, please share any traditions, ideas or simple acts that help you make life a special occasion.

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