Over the years, I’ve realised that the things that really bring my family together aren’t the big holidays or the once-a-year events. It’s the small, slightly chaotic rituals that happen again and again, almost by accident. The Saturday mornings in the garden, the burnt garlic bread, the half-serious competitions that somehow end in laughter (and occasionally tears).
I’ve also started to film some of these little moments. Nothing fancy — just clips on my phone, which I later turn into short family videos using an automatic video editor. It’s surprisingly easy, and I love watching how these ordinary scenes turn into something that actually feels like a film.
Here are a few of our family traditions that have stuck — the kind that might just work for you too, especially if you want memories you can look back on and laugh about later.
Our Friday Night Feast (The Phone-Free Zone)
This is our cornerstone food tradition. Every Friday night, we have a rule. We cook together, and we eat together, with all phones banished to the fruit bowl. The meal isn’t fancy. Sometimes it’s “Build-Your-Own-Taco” night, other times it’s just fish fingers and smiley-face potatoes. The magic is in the roles. My daughter is the official table-setter. My son is in charge of the ketchup and mustard “art”. I handle the main event.
This little ritual is our anchor. No matter how crazy the week was, we know we have this pocket of time to reconnect. The conversation is silly, the mess is real, and it’s my favourite part of the week.
This is a dream to film. I often just prop my phone up and let it record a time-lapse of the cooking chaos. I get close-ups of my son’s serious face as he squeezes ketchup, and my daughter’s proud smile as she shows off the table. At the end of the year, I use my video editor to make a “Greatest Hits of Friday Nights” montage. All those sizzling pans and laughing faces strung together? It’s better than any big-budget movie.
The Annual “What on Earth Did We Grow?” Garden Contest
It started because I was tired of gardening alone. One spring morning I handed each of the kids a pot and told them to “grow something.” My eldest chose sunflowers, my youngest planted mint because she liked the smell. Now, every Saturday we go outside with mugs of tea (or juice boxes) and check on our plants.
Sometimes we actually get things to grow. Sometimes the dog digs them up. But it’s become our little ritual. I’ve started filming short clips — muddy hands, tiny sprouts, a proud face when a flower finally opens. Later, I edit them into a time-lapse with soft background music. It’s like watching our family grow alongside the garden.
The Tech-Free Evening
This one was born out of desperation. I got tired of seeing everyone’s faces lit up by screens instead of each other. So now, once a week, we have a “tech-free evening.” All phones go into a basket, Wi-Fi gets turned off, and we pull out board games or make up silly quizzes.
The first time we did it, the kids groaned like I’d cancelled Christmas. Now, they actually look forward to it. I always record a few short clips at the start — everyone reluctantly saying goodbye to their devices — and a few at the end when we’re laughing and teasing each other. It’s amazing to see the difference.
The “You’ve Been Styled!” Living Room Spa
For those drizzly Sunday afternoons, we have our beauty ritual. It’s less about looking good and more about being silly. The rule is you have to let someone else style you. My daughter gets to brush my hair into a lopsided ponytail. My son gets to choose my socks for the next day. I give them both a hand massage with whatever lotion I have.
It’s about letting go, sharing touch, and sharing laughter. I surrender control for thirty minutes, and the payoff in giggles is immense. I film the intense concentration on their faces as they “work,” and then I capture the big reveal. My video editor is perfect for a dramatic slow-motion strut or a split-screen of before and after. These short, joyful clips are little time capsules of their personalities. I know I’ll treasure them when they’re too cool to style their mum.
Our Memory Jar & New Year’s Eve Film Festival
This is the tradition that ties all the others together. We have a big jar on the kitchen counter with a notepad. The rule is, anyone can write down a happy memory from the week and pop it in. It could be “Dad burned the toast and we had to eat cereal” or “We all danced in the kitchen.”
On New Year’s Eve, we open the jar and read every single one aloud. This is when we have our own “Family Film Festival.” I curate the best videos from the year—all those Friday nights, garden contests, and spa rituals—and we watch them together, reliving the moments that made our year.
This is my directorial highlight. I use my automatic editor to create a “trailer” for our Film Festival, using clips from all our adventures. As we read a memory from the jar, I can cut to the video of that exact moment in the film. It brings the whole year full circle. These videos, born from our small, silly traditions, are the most precious things I own. They are our story, and I love that I get to tell it.
Final Thoughts
Looking back, I realise I spent too long chasing the idea of a “perfect” family moment. I thought it needed a grand plan and a big budget. But the real magic was always hiding in plain sight, in the simple, repeatable stuff we did anyway.
These little traditions aren’t another item on my to-do list. They’re just our life, with a tiny bit of intention sprinkled on top. They’ve given our family a rhythm and a shared story that feels uniquely ours. And my phone, once a distraction, is now my favourite storytelling tool.