Oh 2020...what a dumpster fire of a year you have been! In the remaining weeks that are left of this very memorable year, I can only imagine what will happen next. Has the whole year been bad...no. Has the whole year been hard...no. But there have sure been a lot of really bad, really hard hours, days, and even weeks. I never dreamed I would be living and parenting through a global pandemic, and yet here I am.

If you are a “big things parent,” it was an especially hard year. “Big things parents” thrive on creating memories through milestones and experiences. So when many big life moments, like graduations, vacations, and holiday celebrations were canceled this year, many parents felt defeated. They are passionate about celebrating the exceptional, and bringing joy to themselves and their families by throwing a special party, or planning a dream vacation. “Big thing parents” appreciate the destination. This makes for a rough year when you literally have no where to go.

On the other hand, “small things parents” are here for the minutiae. They can appreciate the wonder that exists in the everyday. They can see something remarkable, in what appears quite unremarkable to others. “Small things parents” celebrate bare baby feet in green spring grass, snuggling under a blanket to read out loud (again) a favorite book, or flour handprints left from baking on the kitchen counter. They elevate the journey that is parenting. And while this year was hard for everyone, “small things” can be done daily...even in a pandemic.

This year I was reminded that I can and should be both a “big things” and a “small things” parent. In fact, I started out as a “small things parent.” When you have a NICU baby, you quickly learn about the beauty that is simplicity. Milestones in the NICU are measured in grams and milliliters. So if you are not naturally a person who notices and celebrates the smallest of victories, you soon will become one. Typically, I take the time at the end of a year to reflect upon my accomplishments, and set new intentions for the upcoming year. Since I can’t begin to envision what the future will look like, I’m going to just focus on the past for now. I don’t want to dwell on the pain of 2020, so perhaps I can look at the positives. This year gave me the gift of time that allowed me to remember that sometimes less is more. And a gift is a gift, no matter how it is wrapped.