The Happiness Project: Or, Why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun

use these albums as a family diary, to capture little family jokes or funny incidents as well as the usual round of birthday party, Thanksgiving dinner, and vacation scenes. Photos help me recall happy details that once seemed unforgettable: how Jamie used to make rice pudding all the time; how tiny our four-pound Eliza was when she was born; and how Eleanor loved to show off her belly button. Without photographs, would we remember the fall afternoon when we wandered through Central Park with Eliza dressed as a “lovely fairy” or Eleanor’s ecstasy the first time we put her in a swing?
    Not a chance.
    Beyond the taking of photographs, another way to accomplish this goal was to embrace my role as the family reporter, to spread family cheer. We have two sets of extremely engaged grandparents, and the two who live around the corner are as eager for information as the pair who lives in Kansas City. I made more of an effort to e-mail informational notes with updates from the pediatrician’s visit, reports on school events, or funny things that happened. Now that I’m a parent myself, I realize how much the happiness of parents depends on the happiness of their children and grandchildren. By sending around a quick, fun e-mail, I can give everyone in the family a lift (and also myself—do good, feel good). As I’d learned in February, even Jamie likes to get e-mails during the day with interesting bits of family news.
    With this in mind, when I joined Jamie in our bedroom after tucking Eleanor in for the night, I said, “I don’t think I’ve told you about Eleanor’s new good-night ritual. Now when I’m done rocking Eleanor, I carry her to the window, and she says, ‘Good night, world.’”
    “Does she really?” he asked in a tender voice. Without my resolution, I might never have bothered to mention it.
    Resolving to be a “treasure house of happy memories” also got me thinking about the importance of family traditions. Family traditions make occasions feel special and exciting. They mark the passage of time in a happy way. They provide a sense of anticipation, security, and continuity. Studies show that family traditions support children’s social development and strengthen family cohesiveness. They provide connection and predictability, which people—especially children—crave. I know that I enjoy a holiday more when I know exactly what we’re going to do and when we’re going to do it.
    At the same time, because family traditions usually involve special decorations, special food, a special sequence of events, and participation by certain people, most traditions (other than the tradition of ordering a pizza during the Super Bowl) involve a fair amount of trouble and are a potential source of guilt, resentment, anger, and disappointment.
    I was right to start my happiness project with a focus on energy. When I felt energetic, I enjoyed putting up decorations, getting out the video camera, and all the rest. When I felt low, everything seemed like a burden. Last year, I kept putting off buying a pumpkin for Halloween, and we ended up not getting one at all. Eliza and Eleanor didn’t seem to mind, but I was shocked by myself. That counts as Mommy malpractice in my book.
    But even though we didn’t have a pumpkin, I did manage to keep up our family’s personal Halloween tradition. Every Halloween, I take a picture of Eliza and Eleanor in their costumes, put the photo in a Halloween-themed picture frame, and add it to our Halloween photo gallery. I also give a copy to each pair of grandparents, so they have their own set. This tradition takes a fair amount of effort, but it’s fun to have a set of holiday photos that we put out for just one week of the year, it gives a sense of family continuity, and it’s an excuse to give a present to the grandparents—that’s a lot of happiness bang for the buck.
    My desire to be a treasure house of happy memories gave rise, however, to a problem. I didn’t know what to do with my children’s various keepsake papers, such as those Halloween pictures. I wanted the girls to have theirown copies. Where should I put them? I also wanted both girls to have a copy of their yearly birthday party invitations, the family Valentine’s cards, family wedding invitations, class photos, and so on—but where to keep all the stuff? Making little stacks in out-of-the-way cabinets and pinning papers to the bulletin board, as I’d been doing, wasn’t a good long-term