Because sometimes just being here is reason enough to celebrate.

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who save the good champagne for special occasions, and those who pop the cork on a random Tuesday.

I’ll give you one guess which camp I’m in.

Life is short. Drink the good champs.

Yes, champs. Pronounced shamps. Because apparently champagne needs a nickname, and who am I to argue?

Now, before you think this is a story about my appreciation for a good glass of bubbly (which, for the record, is considerable), there’s actually a little more to it.

Somewhere along the way, I decided I wasn’t saving all the good stuff for someday.

Wear the outfit. Open the good bottle. Take the trip. Make the memories.

Seriously, what are we waiting for? An engraved invitation?

I Come From a Long Line of Celebrators

Well, at least one very important one.

My mom was a celebrator.

Birthdays were a BIG deal in our house. My brothers and I each got our day to be the most important person in the world.

For 24 glorious hours, it was all about you.

Apparently, I took that tradition and ran with it, because these days I celebrate the entire month of September.

Why limit yourself to one day when you can have 30? 😂

But her celebrations didn’t stop with us.

Coworkers got balloons and yummy treats. Friends received little gifts. Holidays were another opportunity to make someone smile.

There was always room for one more at the table.

And, perhaps most importantly, there was always room for ice cream.

I have a little plaque on my ice cream machine that says, “There’s always room for ice cream.”

And yes, I have an ice cream machine. Clearly, I took that saying seriously.

Looking back, I realize my mom wasn’t just celebrating occasions.

She was celebrating people.

And somewhere along the way, I became a lot like her.

A Little Something Just Because

I love a good surprise.

Not necessarily the extravagant kind. Although, let’s be clear, I’m not opposed to those either.

I’m talking about the little things.

A random card tucked into Dan’s keyboard for him to discover. A bag of Jelly Bellies because I know they’ll make him smile. A little gift I spot while shopping that reminds me of my best friend.

No birthday. No anniversary. No special occasion.

Just because.

I try to do the same with AJ.

Of course, he’s a teenager, so the response can range from genuine enthusiasm to a grunt from behind a closed bedroom door.

Some days he’s all in.

Other days, I’m fairly certain his bedroom has its own zip code, and I’m simply the woman who keeps the refrigerator stocked.

But I keep doing the little things anyway.

Because when I think back to my childhood, it’s not necessarily the presents or parties I remember most.

It’s how my mom made us feel.

Important. Loved. Celebrated.

And if AJ carries even a little of that with him, I’ll consider it a win.

Although he may not acknowledge it until he’s 35.

When Someday Became Today

I wish I could say I’ve always had this perspective on life.

But the truth is, it became much more intentional after I lost my mom.

Her passing was sudden and unexpected. The kind of loss that changes the way you look at everything.

There was no warning. No opportunity to prepare. No chance to say, “We’ll do that next time.”

And suddenly, the word someday felt very different.

I didn’t wake up the next morning with a new outlook on life, ready to seize every moment while inspirational music played in the background.

That’s not how grief works.

But over time, something shifted.

I started noticing how much of our lives we spend waiting.

Waiting for the weekend. Waiting for vacation. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for a special occasion to open that bottle.

And sometimes we’re saving the good stuff for a day that isn’t guaranteed.

My mom taught me how to celebrate life.

Losing her taught me not to wait.

The Good Stuff Isn’t Always in the Bottle

These days, I find joy in things that might seem pretty ordinary to someone else.

A Sunday afternoon with sauce simmering on the stove.

Building LEGO by the pool. Yes, LEGO. No, I don’t have an age limit.

Sunday wine and vinyl with Dan.

Getting dressed up simply because I feel like it. Why should the fabulous outfit have to wait for someone else’s event?

And yes, opening the good champs on a completely unremarkable day.

Dan and I often talk about wishing we’d found each other earlier in life. Not because we want to change the road that brought us here, but because we know how precious our time together is.

So we make the most of the little moments.

That doesn’t mean every day is extraordinary.

Some days are stressful. Some days are exhausting. Some days the greatest accomplishment is making it to bedtime without saying something that would require an HR investigation.

And considering my day job, that would be particularly awkward. 😂

But I don’t want to spend my life waiting for the next big thing before enjoying what’s right in front of me.

Because sometimes the good stuff isn’t in the champagne bottle.

It’s sitting across the table from you.

A Toast to the Ordinary

I think about my mom often.

When I’m hosting a holiday. Making ice cream. Finding a little gift that I know will make someone smile.

I like to think a little bit of her lives on in those moments.

In the celebrations. In the traditions. In the extra place at the table.

In the way I try to make the people I love feel special.

She taught me that celebrating doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive.

It just has to come from the heart.

And we don’t need to wait for life to hand us a special occasion.

Sometimes we get to create one.

So wear the fabulous outfit.

Buy the little gift.

Leave the note.

Take the picture.

Open the bottle.

Tell the people you love that you love them.

Because sometimes just being here, together, is the occasion.

Life is short. Drink the good champs. 🥂❤️