The Little Things They’ll Remember

The Little Things They’ll Remember

I recently came across an article called 30 Everyday Things That Matter More to Kids Than You Realize, and it stuck with me. Not because the things on the list were particularly groundbreaking, just the opposite in fact. Most of them were incredibly ordinary.

And maybe that’s why they felt so important.

I have four kids, and as they’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how much harder those little moments of connection can be to come by. Between school, sports, activities, work, friends, appointments—and, yes, the screens that find their way in front of all of our faces—family life can start to feel a little like everyone is constantly coming and going.

When was the last time all six of us sat down for dinner at the same time? I’m not entirely sure.

This is why I loved the reminder that connecting with our kids doesn’t always require a family vacation, a perfectly planned outing, or even a whole lot of time. Sometimes it’s something so small we might not even realize they notice.

Here are five from the article that stuck with me.

1. Display their artwork.

It seems so simple: They come home with a drawing or school project, and instead of letting it disappear into the pile of papers on the counter, you hang it up.

On the fridge. On a bulletin board. In your office. Wherever.

There’s something about seeing their work displayed that tells a child, I made something worth looking at.

There’s pride in that. And even a little independence, because this is something they created entirely on their own.

You don’t need to save every single piece forever. But giving their work a place of honor for a while tells them that what they create matters to you.

2. Share their interests—even when they aren’t yours.

I play Minecraft with all of my boys. I browse the aisles of tack shops with my daughter. I play basketball and LEGOs. Not because all of their interests naturally happen to be mine, but because they’re theirs.

There’s a difference between supporting something your child loves and actually stepping into that world with them. Ask them to teach you how their game works. Learn the names of the horses at the barn. Listen when they explain something in painstaking detail that you may not completely understand.

Our kids spend so much of their lives being pulled into the adult world. Sometimes it’s nice to meet them in theirs.

3. Print photos for them.

We probably take more pictures of our kids than any generation of parents before us—and somehow, they see fewer of them.

Thousands of photos sit on our phones. We scroll past them occasionally. A new phone comes along. A few years go by. And some of those little memories disappear into a camera roll we rarely open.

So print some.

Put them in their rooms. Make a little photo book. Print a ridiculous picture from vacation that everyone still laughs about.

There’s something different about a photograph you can actually hold. It says: This happened. We were together. This is part of our story.

4. Ask about their day—but maybe not right away.

I used to call the time right after school our “transition time.”

Kids spend an entire day listening, learning, following directions, sitting still, moving from one thing to another—and then they walk through the door and we immediately hit them with: How was your day?

Sometimes the answer is “fine” because that’s genuinely all they have left to give us at that moment.

I learned to give mine a little room first. Let them put their things down. Let them decompress. Give them a snack. (The snack helps. The snack always helps.)

Then ask.

Sometimes giving kids a little space before asking them to connect makes them much more willing to do it.

5. Praise them when they can overhear you.

This one might be my favorite.

Of course we should tell our kids when we’re proud of them. But there’s something particularly powerful about hearing someone say something kind about you when you weren’t supposed to be listening.

Tell your spouse how hard your child worked on something while they’re within earshot. Mention to Grandma how thoughtful they were with a younger sibling. Tell a friend how proud you were of the way they handled a difficult situation.

Let them “accidentally” hear you.

Direct praise can sometimes feel like something parents are supposed to say. Overheard praise feels different. It feels true.

And what a wonderful thing for a child to discover: This is how my mom talks about me when I’m not part of the conversation.

The little things really aren't so little.

I think we put a lot of pressure on ourselves as parents to create memories; the big experiences our kids will supposedly remember forever.

But I’m starting to think that childhood is built just as much from the tiny, ordinary things.

The pictures taped to the refrigerator, the after-school snacks, and the compliments they weren’t supposed to hear.

These things son't require much money, nor do they require much time. They just require us to notice our kids—and to make sure, every once in a while, that they know we do.

In lives that seem to move faster every year, maybe those little moments of connection matter more than ever.

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