It’s (Still) Winter. I’m Letting My Kids Celebrate Everything.
Author’s Note: I wrote this in February 2021. Fast forward to January 2022: my son just celebrated his 8th birthday in the midst of a surge. This time, his sister made an amazing puppy cake, and he’s already asking about the Great Backyard Bird Count.
My son turned seven last month, here in frozen New England. With no outings, playdates, or parties in the pandemic forecast, I promised him we’d splurge on a special cake.
“Great!” he said. “I want a winter woodland animals scene with a pond and with vines wrapped around a red #7 candle.”
Before I could distract him with more conventional ideas, his nine-year-old sister piped up: “Oh, I can totally do that for you.” And she did, with the support of YouTube videos, fondant, food coloring, and a $5 tube of plastic figurines.
A week later, my son reminded me that his sister’s half-birthday was approaching. Now, we are not a celebrate-half-birthdays kind of family. “Please-please-please can I decorate a cake for her?” he begged. That’s how we sat around on January 26, lighting a candle on an “ocean cake” littered with plastic fish.
“Did you know there are holidays every single day?” my daughter announced while we ate her blue dessert. “It’s not just Halloween and Valentine’s Day and stuff. There’s a National Puppy Day in March and January 31 is National Hot Chocolate Day.”
So on the last day of January, we sipped hot chocolate with a mountain of mini marshmallows. It was a cold afternoon, and we likely would have been drinking cocoa anyway. But this wasn’t just a snack; it was a celebration.
February 2, the kids got up early to watch the Groundhog Day broadcast from Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. We watched men in top hats pull out the rodent and reveal the verdict: six more weeks of winter. Then the Master of Ceremonies opined, “It has felt like at times we’re all living the same day over and over again. But Groundhog Day also shows us that the monotony ends. The cycle will be broken.” And that’s how I found myself choking up, in my PJ’s, at 7:26 am.
That same afternoon, my kids started a list of February holidays. Our fridge calendar that, for months, had been empty of anything beyond Zoom piano lessons began to fill up with Highly Important Events: National Bubble Gum Day (2/5), National Pizza Day (2/9), National Inventors’ Day (2/11), National Pancake Day (2/16), Random Act of Kindness Day (2/17), National Cherry Pie Day (2/20), National Walking the Dog Day (2/22), National Clam Chowder Day (2/25), International Polar Bear Day (2/27).
“Did you know this Saturday is National Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast Day?” my brother texted when he heard about my kids’ efforts to celebrate absolutely everything. That vision sustained my seven-year-old for days. Every morning he would say, “Don’t forget, we get to eat ICE CREAM for breakfast on Saturday.” Anticipation can be a marvelous mood-booster. In a year that has been marked with macro-drama and yet tedious monotony, these micro-celebrations have brought shape and pockets of joy to our family life.
That’s why I’m saying yes to all the holidays this month. It’s why, on February 12, I drove from our Metrowest town to a bakery in Chinatown — my first time in Boston since last March — to pick up a Lunar New Year rice cake.
And on February 14, in addition to eating pink pancakes, we put on our coats to join in The Audobon Society’s Great Backyard Bird Count.
“Did you hear that? What makes that call?”
“There’s one! Take a picture! Look it up — it’s gray and white and orange!”
“That’s a hawk up there! It’s soaring!”
In 45-minutes, we submitted sightings of tufted titmice, a cooper’s hawk, a downy woodpecker, a robin, black-capped chickadees, and a northern cardinal.
“I really like birds, mama,” my seven-year-old said, slipping his hand into my coat pocket. “Can we celebrate this holiday every year?”
Yes, we can celebrate everything.
