This past week, our family tried something new.

We held our very first Sanford Secret Kindness Week, and it turned out to be oh, so sweet. This was Vivian’s idea and contribution to our Sanford Annual Goals, so we gave it a whirl!

It started during our Monday night family dinner—something we’ve been really intentional about this year (and another one of our family goals). Sitting down together, in the dining room, without distractions, has become a weekly tradition that we cherish. We’ve even added a hilarious twist by playing *Cards Against Humanity: Family Edition* after dinner, which always ends in laughter—and lots of poop jokes.

But this week, we added another layer of connection. My daughter cut up slips of paper with our names on them, and we each drew a name at random. The challenge? A secret act of kindness for that person throughout the week. No fanfare, no expectation of recognition—just an opportunity to bring a little joy into someone’s day.

Small Gestures, Big Impact

The results were, quite simply, beautiful.

For Jim: I had Jim, so I snuck upstairs every morning to make our bed before he could. It’s something he does religiously, and I wanted to give that small act of love back to him. He noticed but didn’t immediately realize it was part of our kindness challenge. “Hey, thanks for making the bed,” he said one morning. A simple thank you, but one that made me smile.
For Vivian: Owen, my not-so-sweet-toothed son, came home from school on Valentine’s Day with a ton of candy. Without hesitation, he said, “I want to give all of this to Vivian for Secret Kindness Week.” He found a cute gift bag, filled it up, and left it for her to discover. When she did, she was completely surprised. She went back and forth trying to guess who had done it—maybe Dad? Maybe Owen? When she finally figured it out, she smiled big and gave Owen a genuine “thank you” (which is BIG for her; empathy is a life skill we’re working on with her). It was a big, heartwarming moment for all of us.
For Owen: Jim had Owen, and his act of kindness was practical and perfect—he did Owen’s laundry, organized his soccer gear, and neatly packed it beside his bag so everything was ready for the week ahead. This morning, they’re heading out to play soccer together, which feels like the natural extension of that thoughtful gesture.
For Me: And then there was Vivian, who had me. Her plan? Breakfast in bed. She enlisted Jim’s help, woke up early, washed strawberries, and even helped bake a gluten-free brownie to go with my omelet. She tiptoed upstairs to keep me distracted while everything was coming together, and when they finally brought it in, it was one of those simple, pure moments of love that I’ll never forget.

An Anniversary Reflection

And here’s where our stories blend—because today, as I sit here writing this, is our 12th wedding anniversary.

When we chose February 16th as our wedding date, it was partly just timing—right after Mardi Gras in New Orleans. But we also loved that it fell near Valentine’s Day without being on Valentine’s Day. We wanted our own little love story to celebrate every year, and now, all these years later, this week has come to symbolize so much more than just our wedding anniversary.

I feel like the luckiest person in the world to have Jim as my partner. Every year, we grow stronger. Every year, I am more grateful for him. He is not just my husband—he is my best friend, my co-pilot, and the steady, loving, unwavering presence in my life.

A Cosmic Handoff

The timing of when he entered my life has always felt deeply significant. My dad had just been diagnosed with aggressive cancer when I met Jim. He never got to meet my dad—and somehow, I’ve never had any regrets about that. Because I know—without a doubt—that my dad would have absolutely adored Jim.

“My dad would do backflips for Jim,” I always say!

I can practically hear my dad laughing in delight at the things Jim does—especially right now, as Jim quizzes Vivian on the Kings of England like it’s the most normal thing in the world. That’s exactly the kind of nerdy, wonderful parenting my dad would have loved.

When I look back to that time in my life, I now see so clearly this beautiful, cosmic handoff that happened. My dad leaving this earth, Jim stepping into my life—it all feels too perfectly orchestrated to be anything but divine timing.

Growth, Love, and Books

From the very first date, when we sat down for “just a glass of wine” and ended up talking for four hours (forgetting to order or eat dinner entirely), everything with Jim has just clicked. It’s always been easy with him. Natural. Meant to be.

And it’s not just love—it’s growth. We push each other to be better, year after year.

Jim has always been so diligent about setting goals, not just together and for our family but for himself. He tracks them, revisits them, and keeps himself accountable in ways that inspire me. We’ve been on different spiritual paths—mine filled with tarot cards, signs from the universe, and the wisdom of Elizabeth Gilbert and Gabrielle Bernstein, while his is grounded in Stoicism, Marcus Aurelius, and Ryan Holiday. While we find inspiration and peace from different sources, we are respectful of the other, and together, we find harmony.

One of his goals this year? To read two books together. He didn’t even tell me about this goal until weeks after he had set it, which I found both hilarious and deeply sweet. Last night, I told him I wanted Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert to be our first book. He laughed but agreed. He gets to pick the next one. (Little does he know that I’m also plotting our next international adventure together, perhaps inspired by this book!)

The Love in the Little Things

And so, here we are—on our anniversary, on the tail end of our first-ever Secret Kindness Week, and I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude. For Jim, for our kids, for this life we’ve built.

Love is in the big, sweeping moments, yes. But it’s also in the little ones—the folded laundry, the extra candy, the breakfast in bed, the made-up quizzes about English monarchs.

It’s in the kindness we show each other, day after day.

And that’s what I’m celebrating today.

Happy anniversary, Jim. I love you with all my being. I am one lucky ducky.