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.

I have this dream of the perfect friend date.
In my mind, it will happen soon.
They’re all there–all the friends that mean the world to me. Especially the ones that don’t know it.
And on this date, I get to spend an infinite amount of time with each and every one of them. I have a hand-written bulleted list of all the things each friend brings to my life, and I present it to them in an envelope I’ve illustrated with funny comics of the two of us together and the funny memories we share. They’ll laugh at first and then they’ll read my list. They’ll be amazed because all the things they’ve ever done for me? I remember it all. They’ll walk away feeling special and inspired and they’ll go home and tell their husbands, “She appreciates me. She even remembered that time I told her to wipe the lipstick off her teeth. She made me feel so loved.”

I wish this could happen. I really do. Because I do remember. And I always harbor a bit of you-could-do-better guilt for not living up to my expectations of loving and recognizing and honoring my friends like I really want to. There just isn’t time.

I think in this enterprising, demanding time of life when kids and family and paying bills are our obvious priorities, we constantly make efforts to trim off excess responsibilities. When we’re busy and stressed, we lighten the load of our ship by jettisoning things that aren’t necessary in our schedule–T.V., naps, long showers. I think sometimes though, in “Time Triage,” we cast off necessary things, thinking the trade-off preserves more family time. Sadly, precious time with friends is one of these.

Let me tell you something. Friends. Should. Never. Be. Abandoned. If your ship needs to drop weight, throw the clothes overboard. Chuck your cell phone. Hell, get rid of necessary food. But friends? They are the life raft on the ship. The one with the big yellow sticker that says “Do Not Tamper.” And, God forbid, if your ship ever goes down…you need them.

Out of the kajillion blessings Nella’s birth experience brought to our life, one of the most treasured is my deepened recognition of the value of friends. Those pretty orange life rafts that served as decoration, fun, company–well, when the ship is in jeopardy, guess what? They inflate, just like they promise. They hold you up and take you to dry land, and if you’ve ever experienced it, you know never ever to take a friend for granted again.

Easier said than done. There’s always too much to do and not enough time to do it, and the reality of life with jobs and kids and families truly means time with friends is going to suffer. But I’m not letting it go down out without a fight. Nuh-uh.

Behold, a Tip Guide for The Fight:
Making Time for Friends

1. Get Creative.
Sure, I envision Brett watching the kids while I’m cozied up in a bar booth, hugged by friends on all sides and we are laughing and sipping and leaving with the promise to meet up–same time, same place–next week. This is a four-leaf clover discovery though, a lucky encounter cherished on rare occasions. In the meantime, we have to get crafty for enjoying each others’ company. Which is why I like to kill two birds with one stone–turn necessary activities like grocery shopping or carpooling to a birthday party into meaningful friend time.

We “Target Alert” each other. A simple text dispatched to friends: “Hitting Target in five minutes. You in?” And being that a trip to Target is always on the to-do list, more often than not the response of friends is something along the lines of “Meet you in the dollar section.”

And if you haven’t experienced it, Synchronized Grocery Shopping is right up there with dinners and happy hours and perfectly planned events.

Heidi and I do it all the time–strolling through aisles, cart to cart, throwing embarrassing things into each other’s baskets, planning each other’s dinner menus, catching up on important matters of business.

2. Incorporate the Kids
Some of my favorite friend moments have been nothing more than two of us, cross-legged on a kids’ bedroom rug, talking about life while we watch our kids smear chap stick on each other or play dolls.

Park dates turn into afternoon parties when more mamas are present and, while kids are climbing and swinging and sliding, we stretch out on a blanket and dream. And someday, when life is even crazier, we will talk about how great it was when getting together was as easy as an all call to the playground or a pow wow on a bedroom rug.

3. Lower Expectations
I love to entertain friends, but I’ve built up in my mind that it has to be perfect–that I can’t invite people to my home unless the floors are mopped and candles are flickering and the oven’s about to ding in thirty seconds, perfectly timing hot coffee cake for arriving guests.

This is my friend Dede’s house. She lives across the street and yes, her house always looks like this.

If this was the case, I’d never see friends. I’ve learned good friendships come with vulnerability, and some of the most beautiful conversations can indeed happen while sitting on top of two-day old smashed laundry.

This moment? It will not be forgotten.

This is my house. I live across from Dede and yes, my house always looks like this. Okay a lot of the time.

Invite them over. Mi casa, su casa, Baby.

4. Get it on the calendar.
I can’t tell you how many times we’ve excitedly planned a night out, a trip to the movies, etc. and never followed through. We’ll talk on the phone and say things like “Girls night next week, right?” and we answer, “Absolutely, can’t wait,” but next week means nothing unless it has a date on it. Unless it’s been typed into a phone calendar with an alarm the day before and a back-up alarm the day of. Time with friends is worth the effort of purposely planning dates. Better yet, make a reoccurring plan and stick to it.

Every Sunday morning, I have coffee with my friend Wylie. It is a given–something I look forward to all week.

Tuesdays are lunch with my friend Andrea after ballet and Fridays are afternoons with Dot. We do our best not to cancel, and when we have to, we feel the loss.

If we can make time to show up for doctor appointments, hair cuts and ballet class, surely we can pencil in a good renewing moment with friends.

5. Desperate Measures
If it’s been a long time since I’ve contacted a friend or I feel like I haven’t done a good job at showing interest in her life or asking how things are going, sometimes I feel guilty and deal with it by further avoidance. Being forthright and honest is always the best medicine. Sometimes, it feels good to pick up the phone and call. To leave an “I’ve been thinking about you” message on a Facebook wall. To text a funny picture to let them know they haven’t been forgotten. Or sometimes a simple apology. “I’ve been busy, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” The best kind of friends are like a cactus–they don’t take much “work” to grow and are easy to maintain, but even a cactus needs a little water now and then.

Desperate measures mean spontaneity. Call your friend and tell her to drop everything and meet you at Starbucks. Get your kids in the car and invite your neighbor to the park with you. Text an all-call for sunset on the beach, or knock on your friend’s door in your pajamas late at night and tell her you need a chat.

Speaking of, one of my favorite friend moments lately? Pajama dates. When kids are asleep and the moon is bright and I’m about to go to bed…but no. There’s an opportunity to nurture a friendship. A quick dash across the street to Dede’s house. Because finding time for friends means searching for any available pockets of time. And I guarantee you, that fireside chat last night was far more replenishing than the sleep I missed.

Someday, I will plan that perfect date. But for now, I will continue to make efforts and find ways to nurture my friendships because they are a valuable part of my life.

Do you have any creative ways for fitting in time with friends? Any memorable traditions that you make efforts to maintain? Hallmark and I would love to know how you make time for your friends. Do tell.

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 are three things in life I really, really like: babies, fall and holidays. And if you have a baby on a holiday in the fall–well, hallelujah. You can call it a day.

I don’t know exactly what it is about fall. I mean, summer’s so live-it-up with its bathing suits and lemonade stands and late night barbecues, spring is renewing, winter has the whole Christmas thing going for it, but fall…fall is home.

The thing is, I’m raising my kids at a latitude that doesn’t include so much of my childhood fall associations. No leaf piles, no scarlet maples, no chilly football games with steam that rises from my hot cider cup. And that is exactly why it’s even more important for me to bring it. I enjoy a good challenge. And, as it has been in other areas of my life, I find out what really matters when I have to work a little harder to create my intended outcome.

It isn’t leaves and temperature drops and cold rosy cheeks at a football game that make fall what it is. It is the grounding rituals of tradition, the return to the foundation of what matters most…our home, our family, our stories.

It did’t hit me until I had my own kids–the impact of all the traditions my parents created for us. For all the times I returned back home–even long after I had grown up and moved on–and relied on my past for the good feelings of seasons and family…I now hold the torch.

The story my kids will tell someday depends on me. I am writing their book, and I want their childhood chapters full of traditions and stories and memories of the comforts of home.

When my siblings and I get together, it isn’t long before we’re recalling childhood memories. And, out of all the painful ones we could tell of the divorce years, you know what we remember? We remember holidays. My mom’s cinnamon rolls. My dad’s creative ideas for Halloween costumes. Having company. Cider mills. Trips to Greenfield Village.

And I think about that a lot. What will my kids remember? If it’s measured by present enthusiasm, I’d say Lainey will remember decorating the house for Halloween. Because she ran into the kitchen today, excitedly out of breath and smiling. She carried a mummy candy dish she found in the garage. “We have to decorate the house,” she announced, “because Halloween’s coming this soon.” And she demonstrated just how soon by holding up her thumb and forefinger with a tiny space between them.

I hope my kids will remember the way our kitchen smelled in October when their hard work of measuring and stirring paid off with rising pumpkin bread that seeped a preview scent through the oven.

I hope they will remember how I let them make messes.

…how the inside of a pumpkin feels.

…how slimy seeds transform to something good and crunchy.

It might seem silly, all the extra work. I mean, for God’s sake, our pumpkin patch is practically a movie set erected in the middle of a simple field behind a church. But sometimes I think that makes it even more special. It’s called making lemonade. And I dig that.

I love the challenge of creating seasons my kids will remember. And I had to smile this weekend when I found an old dress I had long forgotten, hidden in my closet. It’s brown and orange, cozy and warm. I was so excited to find it, I pulled it out and squealed. Lainey, behind me, smiled and said, “Mama, are are you excited because that dress looks like fall?”

And right there, I felt I did my job as a fall-loving, celebration-creating mom. She gets it. My little Florida cracker understands fall because I make efforts to deliberately deliver season changes when they don’t come naturally for us. And I think that’s what I love so much about fall. I feel my power as a mom more–that honor of writing the pages of their childhood. With cozy nights and candles, baking and gift-making, setting the table for holiday meals, and planning–always planning for more opportunites to be together. With neighbors, with friends, with family.

In Naples, Florida–34.5 degrees north of the Equator–we are making fall memories.

And I am so excited about the coming months. Blank pages–that’s what they are. I will fill them with good things. Things my girls will remember.

Cozy, comfy, homey.

I am looking forward to our first fire in the fireplace, choosing which neighbor we’ll ding-dong-ditch in our attempt to leave candy at their doorstep, more crafting, more baking, soups and bread, and the magic of Halloween night.

What’s your favorite fall tradition? Hallmark and I would love to know. Bring it.

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.

This month Hallmark has introduced the theme of Inspiration. It began with the Unplugged Day challenge and ends with the idea of interviewing a friend to see how she tackles getting everything done during this busy time of year–back to school, new routines, meals, etc.

It’s a question we, as moms, see all the time. In magazines, online, in forums, in books–there’s a new movie dedicated to this very idea, and people in theaters will laugh at scenes like Sarah Jessica Parker arriving to work with pancake batter on her suit because–ha ha–we’ve all been there.

This is what women talk about over coffee. Like, “God, all I ever do is drive. To soccer practice, to pick them up at friends, to dance, to lacrosse, to cheerleading.” And women nod their heads in agreement and then someone starts with how their baby doesn’t sleep and how “Seriously, how do you have time to cook meals every night, Teresa?” And then Teresa says, “I haven’t been out of these yoga pants in three days; how do you manage to put lipstick on, Sheila?” And Sheila suddenly feels the need to defend her lipstick by talking about how much time she spends with her kids and then looks over to April who runs six miles five days a week, so April’s really going to get it. “I wish I had time to run,” Sheila says. Poor April.

Here’s the thing: Fitting it all in is like putting a square peg in a round hole. And I like to assume that everyone is doing the very best they can. That everyone loves their kids. That everyone chooses to prioritize in a way that works best for them.

Yesterday’s priority: Alone time on a solo walk in our neighborhood.

My fitting it all in works a bit like the Kentucky Derby. It’s a constant race of horses that pull forward and fall behind. They all have their turn eventually of running free and confidently from the front lines, but the poor derby announcer’s frantic commentary is always changing:

“And Family Dinners is in the lead but here comes Sir Craft a Lot from behind with Jog in the Morning gaining quickly. Date Night’s coming in at fourth with Alone Time only five lengths behind. But wait! Family Dinners is falling in the far turn while Playing with her Kids takes the lead and here comes Writing at Night moving fast into third while Read for Pleasure comes down the center of the track!” And I would spare you the heart palpitations and tell you the outcome, but the race never ends. And that’s what makes it work. I never have to feel guilty for the poor horse that didn’t get his rose wreath because every horse has a chance to feel the hooves-slamming glory of First Place—even if it’s just for a little while.

Laundry’s falling behind by about fifteen lengths. But still in the race.

I’m interested in how different people approach this in life–how they prioritize and make juggling parenthood responsibilities work for their family. So I did my research. I called my sister, my friends, e-mailed my cousins. I looked to women who inspire me and I asked them what’s most important–what they’re not willing to give up and how they make time to fit it in.

I loved their responses. No one answered “being with my kids” because this is a given–the foundation of what we all want in life, and it should be assumed that any mom out there–whether she’s single or married, working or stay-at-home, crafty, messy, clean, or a really good cook–makes choices that reflect her undying love for her family.

And here comes Playing with Kids in a steady trot toward first place!

What was interesting in the varied responses was the common theme of making time for ourselves. It’s the rule of flight: you have to put your own oxygen mask on before you help someone else with theirs.

It’s why April runs and why Sheila takes an extra thirty seconds in the morning to smear a coat of Ravishing Red across her lips. It’s why I sometimes turn Little Bear on for my kids while I finish writing or why my sister robotically laces up her shoes every afternoon–even when she doesn’t feel like it–because she needs the space and the clarity of her own thoughts while her legs stride in motivating rhythm, fueling her to go and go and go. Heidi flips through cookbooks when she needs inspiration and spends hours in the kitchen slicing and simmering because she wants to. Because it makes her happy.

Family Dinners makes a comeback, coming in at fifth and gaining.

My friend Abernathy makes time for relationships, no matter how busy she is. “I sacrifice sleep. I sacrifice work. Against my better judgment sometimes,” she says. “Because I need to spend time with friends. It fuels me.”

We will continue to search the Internet for quick meals, read articles on how to get our kids out the door, buy calendars that promise to help us sort out our lives because that’s what we do. We’ll be inspired by women who look like they dabble in a great many things, and we’ll compare ourselves and forget that their lives are different and there are some areas in which they too feel like they’re failing. We will feel guilty and cry some nights that we just can’t do it all. And we are right.

Work makes an impressive effort, holding second but falling behind a little.

No, there are not enough hours in a day to fit it all in. Our passions, our talents, our friends, our kids, our jobs, our list of to dos. And the answer to “How does she do it?” is probably always going to be “…the best she can.”

And Kids takes the lead again, several lengths ahead in the track.

We tackle the task of taking care of our families first by taking care of ourselves, and that looks different for every person.

Exercise bows out of the race for a while, making room for Outside Play to gain more distance.

And if it looks like I’m crafting and baking and spending every hour reading books to my kids, it’s only because those horses are currently in the lead while cleaning house and catching up on work fall close behind. Or maybe far. They’ll catch up.

Extracurricular Activities fell behind today: A friend took Lainey to ballet so I could catch up.

But we’re all in the race together. Enthusiastically cheering on our horses as they fall behind, run ahead and wildly gallop to stay in the track.

We’re winning!

Do you have a secret that helps you fit it all in? What horse is currently in the lead and what do you prioritize to the top? Hallmark and I would love to hear how you do it.