Growing up, celebrations in my family were basically reserved for birthdays and Christmas. We don’t really celebrate academic achievements or traditional milestones. Those things were seen simply as expectations, not necessarily achievements worthy of recognition.

Now that I’m a parent of teenagers, I’ve found myself intentionally doing the opposite: celebrating the small victories on the path to bigger goals.

I don’t want to let all these little moments slip away

During these busy years, when everything seems to be moving toward graduation and whatever comes next, those little “yay” moments can come and go in the blink of an eye. Instead of letting them slide, I try to make sure we recognize the work behind the success, whether it’s A’s or even A’s and B’s after a particularly difficult semester; obtain a learner’s permit; receiving an invitation to an honor society; survive a brutal AP exam; get through a stressful week of midterms; or simply sticking to something that required perseverance and effort.

These celebrations are not elaborate or expensive. Sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “Do you want to go to Starbucks on the way home?” Other times it’s, “We’re going out tonight, it’s your choice.” It could mean surprising them with their favorite treat or a movie after a hard week, or even doing one of their chores so they can take a break. The reward itself is not the point. It’s the message behind this: I see how hard you are working and I am proud of you.

Part of the reason I’ve become so intentional about this is because I vividly remember what it feels like to be a teenager. High school can be overwhelming. There were so many moving pieces: grades, friendships, extracurricular activities, family expectations, and the constant pressure to figure out who you were becoming. Even when something good happened, it could be buried beneath everything else that seemed uncertain or not going well.

I want my children to feel seen.

One of my own “yay” moments came during my junior year of high school. My favorite English teacher took me aside after class to tell me how much she enjoyed an essay I had written. Then he gave me his beloved copy of The Dorothy Parker laptop and he said he thought I would love it. I floated for the rest of the week. Looking back, it wasn’t really about the kind words or the book, but about feeling seen. She turned a normal school day into a memory that I carry with me for decades.

I am grateful that my own children have teachers who do the same. They have adults who notice their strengths, encourage them, and celebrate their achievements. But as parents, we are in a unique position to take advantage of those moments. We don’t have to wait for awards banquets, graduation ceremonies, or college acceptance letters. We can reinforce those victories at home, right when they happen, in any way that makes sense for our family.

I have moved away from the way I was raised because adolescence is a very long period of working toward milestones that may still be years away. Pausing to celebrate a small victory gives my children and I a chance to appreciate what is happening now instead of always looking ahead.

A learner’s permit may seem insignificant compared to a driver’s license, and an AP exam is just a test. But when you’re 15 or 16, those moments can seem huge because they’re proof that you’re growing, persevering, and moving forward. That’s exciting, sure, but it’s also a little scary.

I want my children to remember that someone noticed when they worked hard and celebrated when they persevered. It doesn’t have to be me; In fact, I hope they have teachers, coaches, friends, mentors, and future colleagues cheering them on throughout their lives. But I do want you to remember that home was a place where small achievements were recognized, not just the end result.

Our memories have a way of holding on to difficult things and I can’t change that. But I can make sure that we are also intentionally creating memories of the good things. If, years from now, my kids remember the Starbucks run after a tough week, the surprise gift after a big test, or being told, “Tonight it’s your choice” after reaching a goal they cared about, I’ll know that those little celebrations were never really small after all.