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Let Kids Be Kids!!!

If you can, think back to your younger years, maybe when you were grade school age, or even younger if you can. What were you like? Did you have fears and worries and doubts or anxiety?? Kids can be cruel. Let’s face it, adults can be cruel too. The world isn’t by any means a perfect place, it’s far from it. But as a parent, you want to try to instill good morals and selflessness and sensitivity. You want your child to be kind to others, to not make fun of another kid because of their clothes, toys, or choices even. Often times we hear about kids getting bullied in school or kids committing suicide because they had no friends, nobody who understood them or cared enough to try to get to know them. It’s sad! I have an almost 3 year old daughter and she loves princesses, but she also loves getting dirty, and sweaty and running around covered in filth and food. She almost always has stains on her clothes because she likes to get into things, she likes to ‘help’ her daddy fix things (which usually ends up with her covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises). And you know what?! I’m fine with that. I’m okay with the way she is. She’s happy, outgoing, lovable, kind-hearted, sweet, selfless, hysterical, and most of all…she’s my daughter. …she likes to ‘help’ her daddy fix things (which usually ends up with her covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises). And you know what?! I’m fine with that. I’m okay with the way she is. Normally when we take her places, within 5 minutes she is covered in sweat, her face is beat red, and her clothes are barely hanging onto her body. She’s amazing and adventurous! I love the life in her eyes and the gentleness of her soul. To me, she’s perfect. But there are still those people that make comments. I have had people refer to her as a ‘hobo’ because of how she’s dressed. They’ve said she looks like she belongs ‘in a trailer park’ because she was outside, in just a diaper, and someone told her she was a ‘hot mess’ because she was sweaty and wearing raggedy, dirty play clothes from Wal-Mart that were covered in food of some sort! In what world do people think it’s alright to speak to a not even 3 year old like that, let alone a little girl?! Self esteem can be broken so easily. It really angers me and even breaks my heart to know that one day I’m going to have to answer some pretty tough questions from her and I pray to God that I can be strong enough to be honest with her and at the same time sensitive to the subject at hand. I pray that we will raise her right and she will be strong enough on her own to stand on her own two feet and know that people sometimes say hurtful things that aren’t true. They’ve said she looks like she belongs ‘in a trailer park’ because she was outside, in just a diaper, and someone told her she was a ‘hot mess’ because she was sweaty and wearing raggedy, dirty play clothes from Wal-Mart… I, of course, do not know what the future holds, but I pray for the future of ALL of our children. That they be kind and wise in their words and actions and that their parents teach them the difference between right and wrong. And parents, even though a child may not fit into your perfect mold that you have set, please also be kind with your words and actions and consider that child’s feelings before saying such hurtful things. Just let kids be kids!! It’s okay!!...

What It’s Really Like – The Story Behind WIRL Project

I had the privilege of being invited by T.v. Williams to be on his Famous Podcast a few weeks ago. I recently shared Part 1 of the show featuring a few stories about me and my personal life. Today I’m talking more about my professional life and how I was inspired to create the WIRL Project platform. In this particular portion of the show (Part 2) I am talking about: My son Mason (a quick blurb) My career as a teacher and how I always felt compelled to do something “more”. How my Father pushed me to follow my heart, even in his last days How I ever got started blogging in the first place How T.v. called WIRL Project the next “Billion Dollar Company”! (Hint: He compared it to Instagram!) Why I believe that people are all alike at our core How you can get involved and start sharing your stories on the WIRL Project platform As I said with Part 1, was very honest and real in this podcast and I’m looking forward to sharing the other parts with you in the future. I love the idea of podcasting because not everyone has time to sit down and read everyday, plus you get to actually see the show in action! I also love podcasts because they’re something you can play on your phone while you are driving or cleaning your kitchen or while you have a few minutes to sit on the couch and relax. The video link is below, let me know what you think! Thanks for watching and thank you T.v. for having me on the Famous Podcast! ...

F: Faith – What It’s Really Like

This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like… Faith is funny. It is presumed that all of us believe in something bigger than ourselves. Peace, love, religion, science, etc. Harmony for all humans, love will prevail/conquer all, trust in the power of the supernatural or higher being, or simply having faith that the sun will come up tomorrow. Out of all the words that I have chosen for this project Faith may be the most difficult to “own”. Maybe it is because I am still learning how to take ownership of it. It has been nearly one month since my mother was diagnosed with Stage-4 Lymphatic cancer. Unofficially to date, this will be her third major encounter with the disease. I learned of the diagnosis late on a Friday night. She would immediately begin an intensive 6-month round of chemotherapy the following Tuesday. Our family’s world, just as in 2005, would be rocked again. In the fall of 2005 my parents would reveal to my brother and I that my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. The announcement came only a short time before she would undergo a major surgical procedure to help combat her condition. Fortunately my brother and I were attending the same college just 35 miles from our home. We would be there to do whatever possible to ensure the health and healing for our mother during this time. Either out of frustration or fear both of us became angry with my parents after the initial numbness of the announcement subsided. Why did they wait so long to tell us? What good could have come out of holding this news close to the vest? Why were we not included in the updates while the testing process was playing out? We wanted to know why we were being protected like children and not treated as the adults we were. As the elder brother, I became the spokesperson to vent our grievances toward my parents for not disclosing this news beforehand and the virtual blindside of the situation. My father calmly explained that they wanted to be absolutely sure before letting us know (a wise order of operations that I would not understand until many years later with all of the tests and close calls we have endured over the last decade). At the time I felt the explanation was unacceptable and I made both of my parents to swear that they would never withhold any critical information from us again. I finished my proclamation by scolding my mother pleading, “Why wouldn’t you tell us? Don’t you think people may want to pray for you?” Faith is something that I keep very personal. I recall asking my mom when I was a teenager why we discontinued attending church. She said that our involvement in sports and other activities during the week (often on Sundays) made it difficult to stay on top of tasks around the house and attend church regularly. While she acknowledged that it was a poor excuse, our regular attendance would dwindle to part-time to eventually not at all. I also asked her if our absenteeism bothered her. She told me something that I will never forget. She said that even though it bothered her that we no longer attended church, it did not change her relationship with God. “Everyone is different. Everyone has a different measure of faith. As long as you have a chat with him (God) once in a while and know that he is always there, I think that is what matters most.” At closer look, much of my faith is deeply internalized likely due to this lesson from my mother. Many readers may have already clicked to another page because they assumed I would continue plugging religion, making for an uncomfortable read. I understand and I am no different. I get extremely uncomfortable when I see continuous expression from individuals on subjects of politics or religion. I believe you are entitled to your opinion, but prefer you keep most of it to yourself. I internalize most of my opinions on these subjects out of respect for others. So much so that it wasn’t until over the course of the past year that I have become comfortable praying in front of my wife. Faith is one element that I have never allowed to become outward and public. Fast forward to 2015 less than 24 hours after learning my mother’s diagnosis… During a break from yard work I began a rare, aimless flip through Facebook to discover that a well-connected colleague of my brother’s had announced my mother’s diagnosis and asked for prayers via a status update. While I appreciated the sentiment of the announcement, I quickly began to boil over in anger. I waited about a 30 minutes before shooting off a text message to my brother, hoping that he would acknowledge what I believed to be a mistake. My thoughts: To this point, I have not heard directly from my parents. My brother filled me in on the diagnosis the night before. Surely they had not notified the family yet. How awful would it be for a family member to learn of my mother’s condition via Facebook? I explained in the text to my brother that while I appreciated the gesture, I did not think the timing was appropriate. In the 15 minutes I waited for a response I convinced myself that my brother would apologize for the mistake and call my mother right away to set it straight. What I would receive in a reply was completely the opposite. For nearly an hour my brother and I went back and forth via text messages about our positions regarding this serious announcement. I claimed that it was a private issue that should be shared with the family and that mom could decide whether or not the information should be shared with the public. My brother countered with chastising me for not giving more credit toward those who were trying to call on faith and the power of prayer to help lift up my mother during this time. We stopped the exchange after we discovered that we were at a complete impasse. During our conversation I challenged my brother to reach out to our mom to guarantee that it was appropriate for this information to be made public without her approval. Once again, I was shocked find what followed. At just a few minutes before midnight, 24 hours after I learned of the diagnosis, an email hit my inbox just as I was getting into bed. It was from my mother to the rest of my immediate family. In the email she apologized for the relay of information and explained why she authorized it to be delivered this way. She cited a moment back in 2005 recalling when her young son Brody said, “Don’t you think people may want to pray for you?!” I nearly dropped my phone when I read the sentence. Up until that point I did not recall saying those words. The same action I had demanded in the past had been granted to me and I did not like the results. Almost instantaneously I realized that it was not my call and I was in the wrong. This was about her. She went on to parallel some of my brother’s statements from our text message fight: a prayer army is better than a prayer group. I have not publicly shared about my mother’s condition until now. My brother and others have shared her situation with others on social media asking for prayers of hope, strength and faith. After thousands of likes and hundreds of comments I am beginning to realize that this is something I can’t take on in my own small group. Faith is funny. It can be inward or outward. I prefer to be inward. Together it can be extremely powerful. You may ask – if you are so inward, why are you sharing all of this personal information? The answer is that I am still learning to own my faith beyond something bigger than myself. WORRY STOPS WHERE FAITH BEGINS. – GMa’s Journal ...

My Most UNEXPECTED Reaction to Becoming a Mother

This is just a little story about me, it’s kind of personal and very honest. I hope that, maybe someone who is, or has felt the same is given some piece of mind knowing that there is someone else out there like them! So I’ll start off by saying something you probably aren’t used to hearing from a woman…I never dreamed of having children or being a wife. Shocking, right?!? Most little girls dream of their wedding day, and their children (how many they’ll have AND their names). I never did that. I was a very shy little girl who grew up with 3 brothers so I didn’t have a lot of ‘playing house’ or ‘girl talk’ involved in my daily activities. My brothers and I played a lot outside, climbing trees, playing baseball, swimming, and exploring the woods around our house. I also grew up LOVING animals, like they were my passion! I wanted to be a veterinarian and help sick animals. So with that little bit of background being said, being a mom wasn’t something that I felt the least bit ready or prepared for! My husband and I got married in July 2011, and we decided to go off of birth control and just let things happen however they were meant to happen. We were ‘trying’ to conceive for 6 months and NOTHING was happening. I made an appointment with my dr and she assured me that everything was fine, that I was a healthy 27 year old girl, and that I hadn’t given it enough time, that it would happen. After what at the time seemed like years, 3 months later we found out I was pregnant, and we were ecstatic!! Don’t get me wrong, we were also terrified of what we had hoped and prayed for for all this time…’what if we weren’t ready?’ My entire pregnancy was relatively uncomplicated and easy, so to speak. We were discussing name possibilities and getting a room in the house all prepared for HER, this little creature that is going to soon come into my quiet, ORGANIZED, controlled environment…and I would soon have zero control anymore. If it hasn’t been established yet, I’ll throw it out there…I am an absolute control freak! I have severe anxiety and had depression through out my college years. My life revolves around to-do lists, and time…ohhhh time! I must look at the clock a bazillion times a day, and if we are ever 5 minutes late for something…I can literally feel my heart ready to jump from my chest. It’s awful. So anyways, back to this little ‘thing’ that is about to disrupt all of my lists and make me late for everything. Even as a pregnant woman…I never felt that instant connection or protectiveness that you read so much about. People would gush over the idea of there being a precious little baby girl inside my belly, and I felt nothing. Don’t take that literally, I felt all the kicks and stuff, just not the ‘instant motherly bond’ you hear so much about. Now, fast forward through my 9 months of pregnancy towards the end. I felt like, ‘when this baby comes out I will gladly let anyone babysit who wants her!’ ‘I just want my normal life back’. I was due on January 12, 2013, and my little bundle of joy decided to put on the brakes, she apparently was just as not ready as I was. I was scheduled to be induced on January 18,2013 and that is the day that Ailyn was born and my life was forever changed. That ‘instant connection’ you hear women say they have when they find out they’re expecting, I didn’t get that, however…I DID instantly feel this huge bubble surrounding me, my husband, and my new little, not so disruptive all of a sudden, sweet little angel from God. I say it all the time, I may not have realized how much I would love her when I was pregnant with her…but the absolute second that I layed my eyes on her little face, I knew that she is the reason I’m here, in this particular point in my life, my heart was whole again…and I have never felt so perfect in my own skin. In the few months after Ailyn was born, people wanted to hold her, and feed her, and babysit her…and I could not, or would not give her up. I didn’t care about how tired I was, or how sore and achy I was, or that I hadn’t showered that day. I only wanted to hold my baby, and breathe in the smell of her skin. I felt like she is the reason I was put on this earth, and still to this day…over 2 years later, I can honestly say that I still feel exactly the same. She is my best little friend and we do everything together. So to wrap things up, it’s ok to be scared at first, orrrr throughout your entire pregnancy....

What It’s Really Like to Be Me – Part 1

I had the privilege of being invited by T.v. Williams to be on his Famous Podcast a few weeks ago and it was a blast! It was my first podcast, so it was a new and very interesting experience for me and somehow T.v. lead me to talk about all kinds of things including my personal and professional life. I will be sharing bits and pieces of this podcast over the next few weeks and today I am sharing Part 1 which is about: What it was really like to live in one of the snowiest cities in America The CRAZY way I bought my house in Charlotte Australian slang and what it’s REALLY like to have a spouse with an accent Traveling on a plane for over 24 hours with a 7 month old My competitive nature and why my son is bound to also be competitive I was very honest and real in this podcast and can’t wait to share the whole thing with you. I love the idea of podcasting because not everyone has time to sit down and read an article, WIRL, or a post. However, a podcast is something you can play on your phone while you are driving or cleaning your kitchen or while you have a few minutes to sit on the couch and relax. Hopefully there will be more of these kinds of posts in my future! The video link is below, let me know what you think! Thanks for watching and thank you T.v. for having me on the Famous Podcast! ...

What It’s Really Like to CHOOSE to Work Rather Than HAVE To.

I was inspired to write this WIRL after reading about Jacquelyn Frazier. Jacquelyn Frazier is a social media maven, a mom, and the wife of Cincinnati Reds standout Todd Frazier. Todd just so happens to be this years MLB home run derby champion. He also made $3.75 million this past year and will make $8.25 million next year. So to say that Jacquelyn doesn’t have to work might be an understatement. But she CHOOSES to run her own business with Rodan + Fields. I too have chosen to partner with the doctors of Proactiv Solution while they take over the anti-aging skincare market. And even though I am FAR from Jacquelyn’s financial situation, I didn’t start my business necessarily for the income. I know a lot of people who start their business to have more income and time freedom. But for me, I honestly started for fun. A lot of my girlfriends were doing great at it and I saw them one after another retire from their corporate careers because of Rodan + Fields. And they were having FUN doing so! As a stay-at-home mom, I was missing a sense of self accomplishment and self fulfillment that I had when I was working full time. But I certainly didn’t want to go back to working for someone else. So now, just like Jacquelyn, I CHOOSE to work on my own terms and on my own time, when I CHOOSE! I feel so blessed that I was introduced to this business so I never HAVE to work. Never before have I been apart of something so inspiring, uplifting and encouraging. The passion I have for my “work” is eye opening. And when you find something you love, you will never WORK a day in your life. And I get to tell everyone I know about it in the hopes that this business can be a blessing for them as well! ...

E: Enthusiasm – What It’s Really Like

This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like… We have all heard that “a little bit goes a long way” and none more can be said about the action of enthusiasm. A small dose of enthusiasm can play a pivotal role in shaping the state of future outcomes, both positively and negatively. Enthusiasm may often be disguised as motivation. The difference between the two is that you may be motivated to accomplish a task, but not have enthusiasm for processing the task. One example of this may be your job. Most everyone is motivated by a paycheck; however they may not necessarily be enthusiastic about their job or career. A little bit of that has crept in on me over the past few years of my feelings toward my career. In education, teachers need to have an infinite amount of enthusiasm. Without this attribute, the chances are very high that the students in the class will not maximize their potential. As a student I thrived in classrooms where the teacher/professor was exuberantly enthusiastic. Today’s students are no different, in fact, enthusiasm is needed now more than ever as a way to grab and keep their attention. A teacher must always be ON and it is exhausting. That’s why after five years I can’t figure out whether I am burnt out or less enthusiastic about the profession. I still am motivated to help educate young people (and cash that bi-monthly paycheck), but enthusiasm sometimes gets clouded or washed away amidst all of the non-teaching headaches that continue to plague today’s educators. I am not going to disclose those here. If you know a teacher, ask them about it. I am sure they would love to fill you in. Students are like bloodhounds and can sense when something is a little bit off. You tend to learn a lot about one another when you spend 180 days together for an hour or more – for better or worse. One day this past year, I was having one of the worst professional and personal days that I can recall. I actually stopped class a few minutes early to recollect myself before my next class came in. One of my students sitting nearby began a conversation with me as I was staring at an inanimate object on my desk. “Mr. Brody, can I ask you a question?” he asked. “Sure, Joseph”, I replied. “Do you like your job?” I was rattled and laughed. “Yes I do. Why do you ask?” “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem that you like teaching that much.” There it was. I had one bad class. One moment where I could not hide my emotions and let them sit on my sleeve. The only moment that I was “off” and when my guard was down, I was found out. My lack of enthusiasm during one class hour was discovered. This situation was alarming and frustrating. Think of other areas of our lives where enthusiasm applies. My grandmother once told me, “Be as enthusiastic to stay married as you were to get married.” This was sage advice from someone who was married for over 60 years. I remember her quote regularly not as a reminder to stay married to my wife in tough situations, but to be enthusiastic about the little things that go a long way. Much like a teacher’s students those that you live with and are closest to can sense when you are not enthusiastic and buying in. Household chores, changing a dirty diaper, hanging out with your spouse’s annoying friends/co-workers (I promise I am not referring to my wife and I!) – It all adds up. Being caught without enthusiasm is called “faking it”. Some are better at it than others. Some just don’t give a damn. Most eventually get found out by their peers by an innate human 6th sense. How much of that are you subliminally broadcasting to friends and loved ones either through tone and/or body language? Enthusiasm is the purest form of boosting morale. Enthusiasm is an expression and it sets a tone. What it is not is a way of falsely constructing motivation in order to accomplish an undesired duty. Enthusiasm is a way to build toward positive outcomes and also store for survival to persevere and endure through tough obstacles. Collectively, it is a powerful tool that can take you a long way as long as your mind is right. Let’s do this! ...

D: Dreams – What It’s Really Like

This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like… “Most of us spend a lot of time dreaming of the future, never realizing a little arrives each day.” We’ve all played out the hero scenario in the driveway, at the gym, or in the office cubicle: You’re down one with the ball in your hand. The countdown begins…3…step back…2…turn…1…fire…BUZZER…bottom of the cylinder…GAME WINNER. When I was growing up, I played out this exact same scenario well over 10,000 times shooting hoops in my driveway or at a plastic hoop hanging off of my bedroom door. Multiply that by the countless number of times I fictitiously led a game-winning drive with 2:00 minutes to go in a football game or hit a walk-off homerun with a full-count and two outs in the bottom of the 9th inning. Back in those days dreams were big and confidence was immeasurable. In those pressure packed situations I was undefeated and always the hero. Earlier this year I hit a milestone birthday. For the life of me, I cannot remember the last time I hit a wastebasket jumper to win the game. Athletics has not been the central focus of my life for some time. After high school, sports quickly evolved into “desk sports” (sports fandom, fantasy leagues and wastebasket hoops). Eventually even these acts become downgraded priorities to other responsibilities. Soon you begin losing track of your dreams and the last time you took a big shot. Did time run out? Did I pass? Did I just stop shooting? Or on the flip-side, did all of my dreams come true? One difficulty in life is dealing with and realizing when dreams change. An extremely difficult lesson for me to learn as a boyfriend turned newlywed was dealing with changing dreams. Instead of individually striving and stopping at nothing to achieve personal life goals I had to learn how to help lift up my wife to reach hers. I will admit that both of our independent mindsets drove us apart a few times before we were married. What took me so long to realize was that my family was my new team. When we dream together WE WIN. We root for each other. We support each other. We live through each other. When you fall asleep at night, where do you go? Where does your mind take you? Are you alone or are you with your team? I’m at home, surrounded by my family and friends in a familiar environment. I am free of the burdens of finances, geographical distance and work. My team is smiling and I am happy. When I take a moment to think about how my dreams have changed I do not believe that I have stopped shooting, I am just letting some of my other teammates take a few of the final shots....

Thoughts on “The Scissors”

It wasn’t until I was in my twenties, that I learned I was a mistake. I was sitting at my parent’s dinner table. We were just chit-chatting about life, school, and other, you know, normal, non-life-altering conversations that could make you re-think your entire being, when it casually came out. “A mistake?” I said. My dad looked at me like I had ten heads. Then, in his thick Italian accent, and very matter-of-factly, he said: “Well, we had-a four boys. Then, we finally had your sister – our girl!” He paused, put his hand on mine, looked right into my eyes and said: “Why de fack would we want another one?!” I stared at him blankly, wide-eyed and slow-blinking. My mother piped up, in her strong New York accent: “But we’re so glad you’re HEA!” Umm, what “de fack” just happened?! Anyway, I’m thinking of this a lot today because I am 18 weeks pregnant, and yesterday was the day we found out what’s cooking. Turns out, it’s a BOY!! One of the first things people have said to us over the last 24 hours after hearing the news is “Yay, now Greg can go get snipped!!!” I think this is funny, and totally get why people say that – it makes sense that someone would want a boy and a girl. Maybe we never looked at it like that because I am the youngest of six children; 4 boys, then my sister, then me. My husband is one of four children; an older brother, a twin brother, and a younger sister. So I guess our parents kind of took the concept of a “complete” family and ran with it. And this extends beyond our parents; one aunt and uncle had six kids, and another had four. There were so many first cousins running around on any given family party that I don’t even know how anyone kept track. Our families didn’t have babies, they had litters. In our case, our choice to have another baby was not a mistake; we knew we were ready to grow our family. Truth be told, Greg actually wanted another girl, and we both really were convinced that a girl it would be. It’s not that he has anything against boys, it’s just that he is a little worried about what kind of boy he would produce. Him and his brothers were off the walls growing up, so he is a bit terrified. But it doesn’t matter – we’re having a boy! A little boy!! So yes, one and one. For now. Because we never even talked about, you know, the snipping. I mean, what if we’re not done yet? What if, after another year or two, I’m not ready to hang up the ‘CLOSED’ sign? What if our upbringings get the best of us and one day, after I finally begin to feel like myself again, and the two miraculously are sleeping and eating and on manageable schedules, I drink too much cheap wine, go bat-shit crazy and decide I still want to birth a litter under the stairs? THESE ARE THE THINGS I JUST DON’T KNOW YET. I have no idea if that will be the case, or if it would even be possible. Maybe two is our magic number. I do know that, after having Penelope, as much as I love her, there were moments where I couldn’t even imagine entertaining the idea of having a second child in the first place because WHAT WAS I TAKING CRAZY PILLS?! I thought of women who had multiples and was in awe. I still am. Because babies are a lot of work. I mean, I knew it, but you don’t reeeeeeally know the ins and outs, the messy, tired, repetitive, taxing parts of it until your little one is here. Of course, you made the decision to have a child. Of course, you are going to do your best to take care of this tiny human with a fierce kind of love and determination you never had before, the kind that trumps getting poop on your finger, spit-up in your hair, and makes you constantly second-guess if you are even doing this right, for crying out loud. My mother had all six children within eight years. That’s not a typo. Let’s just say it – she is a special kind of crazy. I often ask her, “What were you thinking?” and each time, she shrugs her shoulders and her response is always the same: “I wasn’t!” When I ask her how the heck she handled all of us, she just says that she still has no idea, and that you just do it, you don’t have time to think about it. My aunt Angela had an entirely different response than the norm when I shared the news. Instead of reaching for the scissors, she said: “Yay! Then next time, whatever it is will be a sibling of the same for him or her!” Wait – what? Next time?! “We’ll see how two goes first,” I said, “I don’t know how you guys did it!” But she gave me the best response. She said: “All I can say is, if you like it, it works, no matter how many there are. Don’t think of it as work, it was a lot fun. Nothing is like a house full of little kiddies. I would have had two more.” At this point, I’m just thankful for happy and healthy. I feel so content with Penelope, and all I can think about is watching this tough little cookie give her little brother a run for his money. This, to me, right now, feels complete, but we will see what the future holds. My point in this little rant in which we run to put the scissors away, is this: a “complete” family is exactly what that is – to you. Maybe it’s a boy and a girl. Maybe it’s two little girls, or two little boys. Maybe it’s one child. Maybe it’s ten. Maybe it’s none. Maybe it’s you and your husband, maybe it’s you, your wife, and two dogs; maybe it’s you and your non-wedded partner for life; maybe it’s the two of you, your pet iguana named Fred, and a boat. Maybe it’s simply, beautifully, YOU, living your life to its fullest and doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. “I would have had two more. Don’t think of it as work, it was a lot of fun.” I’m raising my non-alcoholic beverage to you, putting the scissors in the drawer, and saying that, no matter what your situation, let’s make it fun. This post was originally published by Alessandra Macaluso on Punkwife.com. ...

Shut Up and Dance With Me | WIRL Project

Shut Up and Dance with Me – How to Lead and How to Follow

Ah, Summer. Season of weddings and first dances. For some, learning the perfect dance can be just as beneficial and effective as premarital counseling. For me, this one activity became an object lesson in how to lead and how to follow – on and off the dance floor. There we were in the middle of the dance floor, learning the box step and trying to remember the fancy add-ons we had learned the lesson before. And as the music played – the romantic and meaningful music that we would dance to as our first dance – I dropped his hands in frustration and stopped mid-box like a three year old with a broken toy. Being the (self-appointed) better dancer, I had pushed against my fiancé, forcing him into the positions I knew were the right next steps. He, of course, was trying to lead and pushing back. For the first time in our series of dance lessons I completely lost my cool and fell into a sobbing blob of frustrated tears. This is a big deal, see, because I hate to cry in front of people. It doesn’t matter if you are my mom, dad, best friend, fiancé, I just don’t want you to see me break. This is a big deal, see, because I hate to cry in front of people. It doesn’t matter if you are my mom, dad, best friend, fiancé, I just don’t want you to see me break. But at that moment, I was broken. My full-time marketing job, my full-time wedding planning job (because I couldn’t give control over to a planner, of course), and my inability to control this dance finally got the best of me. That’s when I knew I had just come face to face with one of my biggest enemies in life: the need to control – the need to lead. The need didn’t come purely from a desire to be in front, but to control the result. The need stemmed from a fear that saying goodbye to control meant saying hello to certain chaos. Were I to let him lead fully, there would continue to be an opportunity for failure. He could (gasp!) mess up. It never occurred to me that I could be the one who could cause a dance-floor snafu. And let’s be honest here: I’m a long way from dancing with the stars. But we can’t control everything, can we? When it comes right down to it, we can control our words, our thoughts, our reactions, our actions, and we can even map out the worst-case scenarios and what we might do to avoid them (this is what makes me a really great risk manager, by the way). Being able to do this kind of planning creates a sense of comfort and security. We think we’ve got it under control but… Our sense of comfort is false. The fact remains that there is not one itty bitty, teeny tiny amount of control we have over others words, thoughts, reactions or actions. This means that we can never really be in control – not over everything, not all the time and certainly not over other people. What we can do is create stress, anger, and frustration trying to make the uncontrollable fit into our box of known perspectives. It’s exhausting. The fact remains that there is not one itty bitty, teeny tiny amount of control we have over others words, thoughts, reactions or actions. Oh. So I must surrender. Once I gathered my composure, I stepped back on to the floor and into the arms of the man who, despite my best efforts to show him every reason why he shouldn’t, chose then and chooses now to love me. He graciously accepted me back and acknowledged that we might mess up, but we would likely be the only ones who ever knew. At that moment I trusted him, gave over control and let him lead. The surprising impact of this small step was a liberation that I hadn’t expected. If we succeeded flawlessly, the dance would be beautiful. If we messed up, it wouldn’t be my fault. Oh joy, oh rapture. I could enjoy the act of dancing instead of worrying about getting it perfect. By the time the wedding came around, I had some idea what the steps were but had forgotten most. I reveled in the knowledge that my partner had the responsibility for remembering the detail and making the beauty of the choreography happen. Ha HA! Victory! Maybe you’re a leader of a team of people but you don’t know how to let go because you’re afraid they might not get it right. Maybe you are trying the best you can to keep a project from failing and feel like dropping hands in frustration. Could it be that what makes leaders great is knowing when it’s time to stop fighting to maintain the lead and time to start imagining the possibilities that exist in following? Lead or follow, but make the best decision for the dance. Either stop dancing altogether or get back on the floor and try again. Lead or follow, but make the best decision for the dance. In ballroom dancing, there must be two in the pair. The tango isn’t the tango with just one person; it’s a weirdo on a dance floor waiting for his or her video to go viral. However, being the leader is much like being the Highlander: there can be only one. Remember your stance, listen to the music, and trust your partner. More than likely if you mis-step, no one will notice but you. Do you struggle with the need to lead too? How do you conquer your fear of giving up control and how does it feel when you can actually let go? Share your comments, they might encourage others to step out and do the same!...