Some people measure gratitude by grand gestures — the big wins, the milestones, the “made it” moments. But lately, I’ve found myself falling in love with the little things — the quiet, everyday moments that remind me life (and baking) is already full of sweetness.
It’s the way butter softens on the counter while sunlight streams through the kitchen window. The way cinnamon fills the air and instantly makes the room feel like a hug. The way a simple recipe can bring back an entire childhood memory — of my grandma humming gospel music while stirring batter in her favorite mixing bowl.
Those are the moments I’m most thankful for.
They’re the ones that remind me why I started Dot’s Petite Bakery Co. in the first place.
The Warm Glow of Sunday Afternoons
I’m thankful for slow, quiet Sundays — the kind where nothing is rushed and the world feels a little softer. That pace has taught me how to bake with intention. Whether I’m whipping up cake jars or testing new seasonal flavors, I try to let each step feel like a love note to whoever might one day enjoy it.
Those afternoons remind me that not everything has to happen fast. Dough needs to rest. Butter needs to chill. And sometimes, our dreams need a little time to rise too.
The Sound of Laughter in the Kitchen
There’s something about hearing laughter while baking that makes everything taste better. Whether it’s my family joking about who gets to lick the spoon or friends stopping by for “taste tests,” those sounds remind me that joy doesn’t come from perfection — it comes from connection.
Baking, for me, has always been about togetherness. I think that’s why I love creating desserts that can be shared — like my cake push pops and cake jars — tiny packages of happiness meant to be passed around.
The Magic of Old Recipes
I’m endlessly thankful for my grandma’s handwritten recipes — smudged, folded, and marked with love. They’re my most treasured heirlooms. Every time I pull one out, I feel her there with me — guiding my hands, whispering her little secrets (“just a pinch more sugar”).
Those old recipes are my blueprint for everything I create now. They remind me that baking isn’t just about taste — it’s about memory. About legacy. About carrying forward a piece of someone you love.
The Cozy Seasons
The fall air, the first twinkle of Christmas lights, the scent of pies cooling — these are the moments that refill my creative spirit. Every season brings its own flavor, its own energy, its own inspiration.
When I dream up new recipes, I think about how a dessert feels. A cozy maple cake jar that warms you from the inside. A peppermint chocolate cakesicle that tastes like childhood joy. These aren’t just treats — they’re stories, each one a tiny thank-you to the season that inspired it.
The Gratitude Behind Every Bake
I’ve learned that gratitude doesn’t always look like saying “thank you.” Sometimes it looks like showing up — again and again — to do what you love, even when no one’s watching.
Every whisk, every sprinkle, every taste test — it’s all part of my thank-you to life, to love, to the people who’ve supported me along the way. Because baking, for me, isn’t just about dessert. It’s about creating something beautiful out of ordinary ingredients — just like gratitude does with life.
So This Thanksgiving…
I’m taking a moment to savor the small stuff:
- The scent of vanilla on my hands.
- The hum of my mixer.
- The warmth of my dog curled up nearby while I test recipes.
- The feeling of knowing I’m building something my grandma would be proud of.
Because when I slow down and notice those little things, that’s when I feel most at home — in life, and in the kitchen.
Tell Me Yours
What little things are you thankful for this season? Share them in the comments below or tag @dotspetitebakery on Instagram — I’d love to know what warms your heart (and maybe even inspires your next bake).
Dot's Petite Bakery CO. 