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Why You Should Say Yes to Your Kids' Big Ideas: Turning Inspiration Into Family Memories


One of my favorite things about creativity is that inspiration is everywhere.

A photo can spark an idea. A favorite movie can become an experience. And sometimes, all it takes is one little question from your kids to turn an ordinary evening into something unforgettable.


We were planning to go see Toy Story 5 the next day when one of my daughters asked, "What if we made a themed dinner tonight?" Just like that, an ordinary day became one of my favorite family memories.


I've always loved finding reasons to celebrate everyday life. Whether it's an over-the-top family Halloween costume, a themed birthday party, a girls' night with friends, or turning an ordinary Tuesday into a family restaurant, I can't help but lean into the little details that make an experience feel memorable. Apparently that's rubbing off on the girls, and honestly, I couldn't be happier about it.


The Inspiration Behind Our Family Night



One of my favorite parts of parenting is watching an idea evolve. The girls didn't come to me with a finished plan—they came with excitement. As we started talking, one idea naturally led to another. What should we eat? How could we make dinner feel like the movie? What little details would make it feel more fun?


Before long, we weren't just planning dinner anymore. We were designing an experience together.


The movie gave us a fun starting point, but the real magic came from dreaming together. We brainstormed menu ideas, laughed at the silly ones, built on the good ones, and slowly created something that belonged to all of us. The goal was never to recreate Toy Story—it was simply the spark that inspired us to make an ordinary evening feel a little more memorable.


Turning an Idea Into Something Real



Once we had our plan, it was time to bring it to life.


One of my favorite things to do with the girls is take an idea that's floating around in our heads and make it real. Together we designed a Woody-inspired restaurant menu in Canva, tweaking little details until it felt like something you'd actually receive at a real restaurant. We wanted our kitchen to feel less like home for the evening and more like a fun little place you'd stumble across in the Wild West.


Then the girls had another idea. "Restaurants need money!" Of course they do. So we designed our own play money. That tiny detail somehow made everything feel even more real.


By this point, it wasn't really about dinner anymore. It had become a project—one that all three of us were creating together.


Opening Night



When dinner time arrived, the girls transformed into the owners and executive chefs of our little restaurant. Dressed in chef outfits, they welcomed Daddy and Nana, handed out menus, took orders using their play restaurant guest checks, collected payment with our homemade money, and proudly served dinner.


For a little while, our kitchen wasn't just our kitchen anymore. It was a place we had imagined together.


The Real Magic


Looking back, I barely remember what we ate.


What I remember is watching two little girls realize that an idea they had in the afternoon could become something they could actually experience by dinnertime.


That's the part I hope stays with them.


Not because every idea has to become something elaborate, but because I want them to grow up believing that creativity isn't something reserved for artists or inventors. It's something we practice. It's asking, "What if?" and then being willing to find out.


Creating a Culture of Creativity


I'll be the first to admit that going all in on your kids' ideas isn't always easy. Between the planning, the crafting, the setup, and the inevitable cleanup, it would often be much easier to simply make dinner and call it a night.


But every once in a while, saying "yes" creates something far bigger than the activity itself.


One of the things I hope we're building in our home is a culture of creativity—where ideas are celebrated, imagination is encouraged, and everyone feels empowered to bring those ideas to life.


I'll also admit something else: I love the details. Designing the menu, creating invitations, and finding those little touches that make an experience feel immersive is one of my favorite parts of any project. If you've ever found yourself tweaking one more font, saving just one more Pinterest idea, or adding one last little detail because it just needs something, you probably know exactly what I mean.


But becoming a mom has taught me something I don't think I could have learned any other way: The most meaningful experiences aren't memorable because they're perfectly designed. They're memorable because everyone leaves a little piece of themselves behind.


This dinner ended up being the perfect blend of both worlds. I got to obsess over the menu, design the play money that they described, and all the little details that made our restaurant feel real. The girls filled the room with handmade decorations, imaginative ideas, and wonderfully imperfect touches that I never would have thought of on my own. They also made a wicked good pizza!


Looking around the room that night, I realized those were the details my eyes kept coming back to. Not because they were polished, but because they carried the unmistakable fingerprints of two little girls who were so proud of what they had created.


That's when it hit me.


If I had planned the entire evening myself, it probably would have looked beautiful. Instead, we created something beautiful. And somehow, that felt even better.


What I Hope They Remember


As we cleaned up that night, we were already dreaming about what experience we should create next. Maybe a camping lodge. Maybe a detective agency. Maybe something we haven't even imagined yet.


That's my favorite part.


Not that we hosted a themed dinner. Not that the menu looked like it belonged in a restaurant. Not even that we were celebrating a movie we were excited to see.


My favorite part is that one simple question sparked an afternoon of creating together.

I hope that's what my girls remember years from now—that ideas are worth sharing, creativity is worth making time for, and sometimes the best memories begin with a simple, "What if?"


I think that's what I want The Wessner Workshop to be about: finding reasons to celebrate everyday life, taking inspiration from the world around us, and creating space for curiosity, imagination, and a little bit of magic along the way.


Because whether inspiration comes from Pinterest, a favorite movie, or the imagination of a six-year-old, the real magic happens when you bring it to life together.

 
 
 

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