A glorious vacation in Florida.  Beach, best friends and the boy-child.  (thanks Trudy for that term.)

We geared up for a 3-hour drive through a torrential downpour to get to the promised land.     Disney World.  On the entire ride my son corrected every adult who made the verbal mishap of saying “Disney Land.”

He and his new best friend Tesla in the back of the car.  They did so well on the drive.   Things got a little tense at times as I sat wedged between two car seats.    I showered attention on both of them as I tried to keep my eyes on the horizon to calm the belly.

We arrived to an amazing hotel.  Quite shocking actually.  Beautiful.  On the way in there are couches and the ceiling has LED lights that are stars.   Every once in a while there is a shooting star.  We flopped ourselves down on the couch (in a sleeping position) and the kids oohed and aahed at the ceiling.

Then something happened.  I comforted Tesla who was looking for her mommy.  Sebastian repeated something with a boo-boo lip he had said before, “You talk nicer to Tesla than you do to me.”

Now, he had already said this to me earlier.  I told him he was right about part of it.  I did notice I was being ‘corrective mommy’ a lot.  I told him I’d work on my voice and be mindful of it.

He isn’t used to sharing me.   He was turning a little green as he went on to point out other things that were not fair.

I started to distract him with something else.  We were waiting for the rest of our party to finish dealing with the luggage and the car.  I then sat between them and stroked Sebastian’s hairline.  I did what I am learning works really well with kids, I told him a story.   A story about how when I was little I was very jealous of my sister.  She was better at everything than I was and my dad loved her more.  He took her to special things, like the ballet, and would write poems with her.  Me?  He referred to me as the “mouth of the south” because he hated my southern accent.  He also didn’t like how prissy I was.  I was very girly-girl.   (Please know, my dad was an amazing dad for me, there was a time when I was little that I just didn’t know him very well.)

I told the story at a very low level of context with a lot of detail.  Sebastian got a furrowed brow.  I held his hands and I said, Mommy had to make a choice.  I could choose to be unhappy and sad OR I could choose to love my sister, your Auntie Li, MORE than my dad did.   I have a little picture of her in a ballet outfit posing for our dad.  It became my favorite photo and every time I felt sad about my dad I would just love her more.  I ended up loving your Auntie Li more and she became my best friend.  Love is like that.

Sebastian, I love you and you are my baby (although I’m not supposed to call you a baby anymore) boy.  I also love Tesla.  She is a part of our family.  Can you love her too?

He didn’t answer.  Tesla jumped up to go to the fountain.. Sebastian ran and grabbed her hand and started singing “Let’s make a wish.. Let’s make a wish.”   After many pieces of coin thrown in the fountain, Sebastian asked me what I wished for.   “A happy family.”

He wished to be a Ninja.

It was time to check-in.  Sebastian grabbed Tesla’s hand and they walked to the counter.  They walked all over holding hands.  Sebastian kept hugging Tesla.  She hugged him.

Lorianne was having a lovely conversation with the woman behind the counter.   I watched her from afar just loving how she can talk to anyone.   I watched the kids walking around holding hands.

I walked up to the counter and the woman said, “Your children are adorable. “   It seems she liked them so much she upgraded us to a balcony room just because we had cute kids.

I held hands with my best friend Lorianne as we walked to our upgraded room.  There is something special when you see the love you feel for each other on the two kids walking in front of you.  Precious moment.

We choose what we do with our hurt feelings.  They can define us, destroy us or even be the adrenaline that succeeds us… what I hope Sebastian learns is not to ignore them.  Feel them.  Feel them.  Feel them some more.  And then.  …Then choose something.   Choose happiness.

My sister is brilliant. Really. She says stuff casually.. sort of under her breath at times.   It often changes my life abruptly and in such a great way.   She does things that just do not show up on a bio- that matter so much to the world and others.  I admire her.

A few months ago she dropped a whammy that I’ve been practicing the past few months. It has been, um, profound and simple in execution.

She said that what she and Jay taught the girls (she has 3: 21, 23 and 26)… about boys.. is..this  “Do not listen to what they SAY… watch how they act. People tell you a lot by how they act.  Words are easy - behavior is transparent.”

It is really kind of cool.  I started listening more to actions rather than the words of those around me.  Trying to do so without judging them.  Just noticing how we say things and we don’t always match up our words and our actions.  Not judging them because, of course, I realized I am not syncing up either.  In my business I do this thing called “somatic linguistics” that intersects words, physiology, group dynamic etc…  Switching to separating words from behavior has been interesting.

And, humans do this a lot.  Act differently than what we say.  I started noticing the incongruence with what I said to people and what my actions showed. It slowed me down a bit. Made me self reflective in a good way.

I realized I say I want to reduce “Us and Them” in our culture and yet my actions do not always show it.  I’m not doing the tough important stuff to grow my business to truly make that happen.  I’m skating a little at times.  (Not a reference to the Roller Disco, I mean skating in a not so good way.)  Not enough focus.

I’m easily distracted because I like people and all too often do more than I should to please them.  My behavior is not matching what I teach.   I am easily distracted from what I know I need to do because I am incessantly curious and want to learn every second of every day.  Kind of lags execution a little.  Excuses excuses.

I am not often curious in my own life.  I teach curiosity and I ignore it too.

To wit:  I get a lot of e-mails about my blog.  It is neat.  I like that.  I look forward to comments and emails.  A friend from Cleveland asked me recently if this was a business blog or a personal blog.  He couldn’t tell and thought maybe I should make it clear or something. (It was a loving e-mail, not snotty at all.)  He asked me why I would do a business blog that distracts prospects by talking about my child.

I thought about it well past the dial tone.  I am thankful for the distraction.  It is another version of my US and THEM.  There is the US (business) people and the THEM (friendship) people and the lines are often blurred.  By being both in this blog I suppose I am only pleasing one person - me.  and… the real purpose behind the blog that I suppose needs to be said.  Just in case you are reading this thinking it is about my work.

I created this blog for my son.

Right after he was born I had all these crazy nightmares about ..oh crap.. I can’t even write what they were about.   Too scary.  I had nightmares about me leaving the planet.  How would Sebastian know who I am and how much I want him to never let the accidents of life dictate how much happiness he can glean from it.  That we don’t always get our preferences and if the story is still sad, it isn’t over yet.  (My sister told me the part after the comma.)

I created this blog so my son would know who I am- who his mom is.   Just in case something happened to me.  So that the silly videos of me with him as a child had more depth into who I am as a person.  What I think and how I am in the world.  Not just a mommy blog about him - a blog about all of me, my warts and the things I see.    I tie it to business at times because it just makes sense to me and, well, it often ties to what I do for a living.  I tie it to parenting sometimes because, well, it often ties to what I live for.  Sebastian.

“Who of us is mature enough for offspring before the offspring themselves arrive?  The value of marriage is not that adults produce children but that children produce adults.” = Peter de Vries

I suppose if I think about it, parenthood is also making me a better entrepreneur too. ( I’m just wish the team around me would ask why as many times as Sebastian does.  Seriously, that boy can ask why 17 times without even blinking.   His desire for a deeper dive is incessant.  Most of us in business need to answer the why questions that aren’t being asked.  We need people around us to fight us on the unimportant things we want to distract the business with.)

So.  Back to behavior and actions.  I am naturally curious.  I say that.  I’m not sure my behavior this year shows it.  So, there you go Sebastian.  Your mom moments before her midlife crisis.  A friend of mine today said I am not having a midlife crisis, I am having a “medically induced” crisis.  If you don’t know me, you have no idea what the heck I am talking about.  Sorry, this blog, after all,  isn’t actually for you unless you are 4 and my son.

The realization that I am  just like my parents and their parents and Sebastian if you are reading this 30 years from now, YOU as a parent.  Life’s little incongruencies… the ways human behavior just doesn’t make sense at times.  I’ll keep trying….

(and blogs that do not end with a well-thought-out-bow-tied-around-it that makes it all make sense.  THAT is your mom, son.)

Tony Robbins was cool in the 80’s.  He did something sorta new and accessible.   Since him there have been TONS of platform speakers who create 1-minute rolls of themselves and what they can give an audience.  I know a lot of them- they are cool people.

A sugar high.  Often we leave events with a sugar high that doesn’t turn to action.  Most of us know this.

If you do presenting and get hired to do it - look at your ‘roll’.   Is it sexy?  Edited?  Does it show you looking away off in the distance and then turning and looking at the camera like the dramatic squirrel?   Does it show you jumping around on the stage doing your thing?  With perfectly fonted words and action… have you counted how many raised fists, raised hands or exclamation points in the videos?

Here is a tip:  platform speakers are losing their luster a wee bit in our culture.  There is a lot of them.  You are not one of them.  You have an interesting thing to say that only you know how to say.  Performance reduces listening and your ability to, well, um, communicate.

At your next event, hand out some Flip Cameras.  Ask a few people you do not know to film their interpretation of the event.  To film the audience (not just you).   Tell them after you upload the images they can have the camera.  Don’t ask them to INTERVIEW people - just film the event as it is going on and maybe talk to people after.

The view from back stage OUT is more interesting than the view your camera peeps create.. than the view from the audience IN.

The intimacy of the experience of the audience - now that is interesting.    The cheese ball antics leave most of us cold.  It isn’t you anyway- it is some prettied up version that you don’t want to be.

In the Flip camera rolls you will see the stuff that isn’t working… that isn’t you… that you can fix.   In the Flip Camera you will find the odd moments that you didn’t even realize is the beauty of what you are REALLY doing.  What wasn’t planned.  The real stuff that copywriters would have a hard time capturing.  The real you is SO much more interesting than anything you can make up….

Have a glass of wine handy though.. parts of it won’t be pretty….

I’m in love.  No, it isn’t with the new guy I’m dating.

I had a rough few weeks physically.   For a part of it I had to lay flat for 5 or 6 days.  The boy I live with has some very clear expectations of me.  We jump, we play and we run around.  Seeing his mom horizontal and in a lot of pain was not fun for him.

I’m not sure I realized enough what was going on for him.   I talked to him and had friends take him for fun things.  My thought was it would be like a vacation for Sebastian.

Last week he went out with my friend Paul and his son Fletcher.  He was so excited about it.   All day- playing and acting like a teenager.  (I have incredible friends and family and  who without them I would not have gotten through this.

Sebastian is addicted to anything that is sugar and doesn’t get it very often.  He will beg me in the store for Vitamin Water, stuff I have never let him have.  He will point to the purple bottle of nasty tasty Kool-Aid stuff and plead.   He doesn’t get it.

He came bouncing in the house with a bottle of purple Vitamin Water his uncle Paul had given him.  He was SO excited.  The bottle was about 3/4 full.   “Mom, I brought you Vitamin Water and it will make you all better.  Drink it.”

It struck me for a second that my little boy was willing to give up what he cherished most, I had a few sips.  Thanked him.   We had a lot of people over surrounding my bed, so the moment passed.

The next morning, Sebastian called to me from the top of the stairs.  He will often curl up in a ball at the top of the stairs in the morning and I run up and throw him in the air.  We’ve been doing this for years.  Of course, with my ‘issues’ going on I haven’t been able to do the sleepy-head-boy-toss.   It was my first time up walking around with a timer, seeing how long I could stand up without the icepick in the brain.  (7 minutes!)

“Did the Vitamin Water make you better momma?”  It stopped me in my tracks.  I suppose I had not realized the depth of his plan.  We laid there and I told him, Yes, I am better.  Not 100% honey, I’m better.

He got a very stern look.  ”You’d be all better if you would have drank it all.”

We stayed there for close to an hour.  I mentioned to him that by giving me the Vitamin Water, he was giving up something he loved to help someone he loved.  We talked about giving to others and being proud of our actions.  He asked me a lot of questions in those moments.

What seemed to calculate the most in him is this:  Sebastian, were you worried about momma?  ”Yes, you can’t play anymore.”   Dear boy do you realize you did something amazing and I’m not sure if you know.  You were worried and instead of suffering you DID something about it.  You took action to unworry the problem.  That is incredibly smart of you dear sweet boy.  It is okay to sit and cry and feel bad- that is healthy.  Healthier is to improve on the worst of what is happening in our lives.  Find a way to make it better and okay.  To not give in  on suffering or give up on happiness : NO matter what happens.

He has brought this up several times since then.  ”Mom, let’s take action.”   I am so in love with this boy and who he is as a human.  A gentle sweet soul who is also tough and fiery.  He remembers these things and uses them.  (Heros never give up is another one he says a lot)

I learn more than I could ever teach from that boy.  I offered him the option of a sleepover with his friends last night or a cozy evening with me.  He picked me and we had a glorious evening reading books, doing mazes and eating popcorn.  ”Momma, I don’t want anyone here except me, you and the kitty.  Just us.”   he kept saying to me, “Just us Momma.”   It just struck me how much I was thinking the same thing.   How perfect the evening was.

Through this whole health thing I have had amazing realizations about my busyness.  I’m grateful for the scare - as I’ve begun to trim the fat of my life to get to the core of what it is I really want.

With less noise, I’ve been able to see some good lessons:  About how great I am at conflict until I love the person dearly.  Then, I just suffer through things until I get MAD enough to say something.  This week I had some conflict with people I care about and, um, whoa:  I did not spontaneously combust.  I was shocked I did not end up a pile of gray rubble after each conversation.

In the final analysis of this whole situation, I feel loved.  I realize how little time I have for my dear friends and family and how much that will be changing in the next 12 months.  Now that I’m getting my health back I’m looking forward to LESS task and MORE love.

As he cleaned his room last night before bed he said, “Mom, do you know when I’m going to stop cuddling you?”  When honey?  ”When I’m 69, so you need to prepare.” Okay, I’ll be 109 so I suppose that will be okay.  ”Good.  I just wanted to let you know.”   Thank you Sebastian.  ”Mom, you know what?”  What.  ”You need to brush your teeth.”

I’m in love.

Years ago I had a beautiful little dog named Popich. I miss him. Almost every day.

Last week  I watched a little puppy run into the street and nearly get run over. I ran into the street and held him. Sobbing and relieved that he wasn’t crushed by the car in front of me. I call the number on his tag. Left a message.

He is so happy to see me, this dog. I spent about 10 minutes with him and thought to myself, he isn’t in a happy home. I don’t know why I felt this - I just KNEW it.  I thought for a second about keeping him.  NO, that wouldn’t be right call the number.

He sits next to me in the car as I rush to pick up my son. I’m trying to figure out how to make sure Sebastian knows this is NOT a present for him and his dog. He wants one so badly.

I get the call and the address to take Socks home. I think to myself, the guy on the phone doesn’t seem very relieved. I rush over there.  Wait to pick up Sebastian until after.  This of course will make me late picking him up.  I had to make a quick decision.. I rush over.

I try to hand the dog its person , “Oh, we don’t like to hold him, just put him down.”

No “thank you” - no relief …. No joy that their dog is okay. No concern.  (Yes, I am unfairly judging people right now, I know.  There is likely an explanation.)

The dog followed me to the gate and tried to come home with me. I wanted SO BADLY to just keep him.

I don’t know if they know what they have.

Most of us don’t always admire what we have. We have things that are precious and we let things blur.

Now will never come again.

I read that somewhere.

This moment as I type these words is so precious. I don’t always  savor it.

I savored Popich when I had him and in a very sad instant I lost him.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that little dog, Socks.

I rang their door bell yesterday.  An impulsive act as I drove by to ask them if I could have the dog.

They didn’t answer.

I could hear him in a cage outside their house, crying.  The fence isn’t THAT high….. how many years would I get for stealing that dog?  I am pretty sure I can pull a Chris Brooks on that fence….

Maybe savoring a moment and stealing do not mean the same thing.   I’ll wait.  Somehow I have a feeling that is going to be our dog.  I’ll change his name from Socks to “Inflating Bulb”  (that is the thing on  blood pressure equipment that gets held and squeezed a lot- get it?)

Don’t ignore anyone you care about today.  Stop reading my stupid blog and go hug them.  ;)  I’m stopping here so I can go wake up my son.  “Mom, you are squeezing me too tight.. ,” will likely be his response.  He isn’t a morning person.

Red eye. Red eyes. No sleep. Bleary. A full day with no breaks. Not one. Pooped.  I’m facing a hard week, don’t want to be there, want to be home.   Whining about it to myself.  I’m waiting for the pilot to turn off the seat belt sign (timing is everything) and I see that I had a voice mail overnight.  THAT is weird… 2am?   I check it….

It starts with a deep growling.. “DUH.. DUH DUH DUH.. DUH DUH”  I recognize the tune.. not the voice….then

Sung to the tune of “Eye of the Tiger”

Rising up

Once in the gate

Neck a mess

Back in trou-ble

She’s gone the distance

Now she’s back on her feet

Just a girl and her love for endive.

She’s a chick who can jet set

With little/no sleep

Facing mean cor-a-porate giants

(indiscernible phrase here)

And I’m watching her go.. there she goes!…

Oh.  Hi, Christina.  Not sure where that came from…

Wanted to leave you a message …get some coffee, splash your face.. ask that guy next to you (I’m hoping he is cute since you slept with him last night) to carry your bags…..

Have a great day!

The indiscernible part is forever unknown cuz that little ditty came out of his head impromptu when he heard the beep…..  It is a great way to leave a message.  In these days of e-mail, texting and facebook.. actually hearing a voice is nice! 

Beware:  you don’t want me to call you the next few weeks as I try out this new way of leaving a message.  If you see my name in your voice mail.. just delete it and move on.

(name graciously withheld until he gets an agent or a spouse)

Rushing. To Utah. Tired. A little slow from an evening liver symposium. Forgot my phone, my right shoe and left my coffee cup on the top of my car.  Off a little.  Spinning on some unusual behavior of mine the day before - how I am acting like I am not.  A little freaked out by something I did.   Pointing my finger at myself in my head .. chastising.     My self-critic alive and well.

That kind of morning.

I stop at the coffee shop AGAIN to get another cup of coffee and somehow (don’t judge me) I slammed my SHIN in my car door. Now, you gotta think about that one for a while. Really? Is this actually possible that a person would get out of their car, step to the side just enough, but not enough, and slam their shin in the car door?

Um. Yes. It is true and it was embarrassing. The smokers outside the coffee shop looked at me like I was driving a 1917 Traub or something. And not in a good way if you get my drift. I imagine I let out a cry or something, not really sure because it HURT SO BAD I wanted to pass out.

I hobble into the coffee shop and I notice I am bleeding profusely… two giant egg size welts have perked up to say hello.. oh, and I am in 4-inch heels and OF COURSE a skirt. F.

The coffee helps. I limp to my car. The airport. No time to change clothes to hide the welts. Then I think, EH PIFFLE! I’m a woman over the age of 40 - no one is going to notice my legs anyway. It is totally fine.. just keep moving… …I am speaking in front of a room for of humans in Utah yes, and they won’t even notice the eggplants on my gams.

Security guy. As I walk up, well, limp up yells out, “OH MY GOD, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEG?!?!?!??”

My face is red.  Everyone in the line is looking at me like I’m Pamela Anderson in a 3D scanner post surgery after the surgery…. it wasn’t good.   I realize I am not going to tell ANYONE about the car slamming thing. It is just too ridiculous and dumb.  He waits for an answer.   I’m red…. and.. um… er….

I say:  “That isn’t my real weight on my driver’s license.”   He laughs- hard.   I walk away.  Thank god I always have humor to distract….that is acting like me. 

After my presentation in Utah.. I’m RACING to get the 5:07 flight. I have 20 minutes to get to the gate. I take my heels off and start running… limp running.. I’m in pain.  I don’t care.  The next flight is at 9pm…. SLT airport is long.   My gate (of course) at the end. I run alongside the moving walk way FAST and a wonderful soul pushing an empty wheelchair. He runs along side me and yells “GET ON … I”ll get you there!!!”

He runs along side me for a minute and I hesitate. “Ha ha… you couldn’t push me faster than I can run…”

“HEY.. I medaled in UT Track baby… GET ON!”

“Oh, nah,  (pant pant hypervenilate run) that (Wheeze)  is okay(pant)…”

“LADY GET ON !!!”

I do.

It is absolutely side splitting. We are racing around to my gate.. he’s making all these crazy emergency announcements and swerving … I keep looking up at him and he is laughing so hard as he runs.  Me too.  Total bliss.

He dumps me at the gate. I make it. We high five. And then we just stand there for a minute.. looking at each other and laughing out loud.  The man is sweating profusely and can barely breathe… I can’t breathe.  The entire lobby is looking at us like we are insane.  We realize what a spectacle we are and laugh some more.

It is just one of those precious moments that make me believe our world is a beautiful place.

Did I have that fabulous moment that I will remember my entire life because I hit my shin?  Was it my limp that made him ask if he could help?  Did I hit my shin because I was out of my body thinking about the thing I did that wasn’t like me that freaks me out?    I dunno.  I’d like to believe that it all is beautiful once we know the whole story.  All these moments knit loosely around to make a life.  Even the ones where we feel bad, ashamed or hurt.   When we make a mistake or do something in a moment that isn’t fair or right.  If we just give it a minute, forgive and be who we are……

and, here is the thing.  I almost didn’t get in that chair.   I almost let that chair roll on by and stayed running and limping and NOT being me.   Another example of me not being me.   I like to play.  I gotta play more often. I have gotten WAY too serious….

Yes.  I have been acting in ways that are just not me.  Why?   I do not know.   What I do know is play and fun and being unapologetic for the strange ways I need to be in the world to feel safe and happy don’t work for everyone.

The real person is far more interesting than anything we can fabricate.  When we can all lighten up on all the ways we are supposed to be… be who we are..  and be kind to ourselves when we mess up… and just get on a moving chair once in a while….

I arrived home at 7pm to my cat and an empty house.  Alone, something I rarely ever am in my own home.  Had a magical evening of a quarter moon, painting,  and a midnight walk. .. the limp gone completely.

Thanks running chair man,  (he asked me not to use his real name) you gave me more than a lift.

Tears have happened a lot around me of late. Not sure what is up. I’ve been a walking snot bubble increasing the stock price of Kleenex I’m sure.

In class rooms, I’m watching people talk about what they really care about, and tear up. My son recently had to give blood and he cried like I have never seen. A dear friend teared up talking about the loss of his childhood dog. My best friend teared up when I teared up when I talked about how much I hated all the social conditioning I am still fall prey to even though I really would like to think I’m unique.

My son had to give blood to do some tests. His doctor warned me before the tests that a lot of parents shush their children for fear of the annoyance of others. She mentioned that there was a medicinal benefit from crying and to let and encourage Sebastian to cry.

So, I did some research.

It seems there are 3 types of tears. The stuff that keeps are eyes wet. (98% saline) The stuff that is reflexive from onions or dust. (98% saline) And THEN there is the emotional kind. The contents of emotional tears have more of the protein-based hormones like prolactin, adrenocorticotropic hormone, and leucine enkephalin (a natural painkiller).  (When I was a kid, a trip to the library and 7 reference books… today, 5 minutes and an ergonomic keyboard)

In my son’s case, his tears made the tests not hurt as much. Prolactin stimulates breast milk and is often high after sex. I’m not really sure how to tie that into my rampant desire to undo my social programming… but I’ll go with it.  Just keep reading, it didn’t make sense to me either I just like the idea of the word ‘breast’ in my blog.  Might hit some sensors though.

Adrenocorticotropic hormone releases Cortisol can increase blood sugar, certainly something that feels good.  Where am I going with this?

I like people more who can tear up.    There is something going on in the world where we are seeing it more often.  Real tears.  Real emotion.  Feeling stuff.  Is it the chemical high?  Are we realizing just how great it feels to let out some salt once in a while?

I’m on a new rant in my business world about labeling.  Humans take in a lot of information and to save time, we label things.  For years, crying was labeled as ’something’ and it wasn’t always pretty.  Cry Baby, Vulnerable, Girl, Emotional etc etc.

Now, crying is absolutely, um, well,  sexy.

So… blubber you.   If you need some you tube clips that’ll onion you all up, just let me know.

I have a funky house. It is a tri-level built over 5 decades by humans who did not understand what a straight line is. We sit perched on top of a mountain with mountains behind us. We love it although we lean a little….
On the stairs is a ledge. I don’t know why it is there. It is at about eye level when descending the stairs at about 30% down. Over a year ago I noticed 3 pennies on the ledge. I laughed that my son must have thrown them there. I left them there.

Right up above the ledge is a collage. Ten years ago in a class I was asked to collage my greatest wish. My greatest wish was to have babies. Lots of them. It is a pretty collage that is obviously about children.
Years ago I showed it to sebastian and told him what it was. He asks about it every so often and every morning we walk past it on the way to breakfast.
Last Saturday, we were rushing to go to Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk and Kiva… mommy and Sebastian’s favorite treat. On the way down the stairs, Sebastian asked me to sit down on the stairs.
“I need to show you something important Mom.”  This is code in our house for, sit your butt down and pay attention.

“Do you see the pennies Momma?”

Yes, honey. They have been there for a while.

“I know. I put them there when I was two so you could have 3 more babies. They go with the wish picture you made. I will be one of 4.”

Gulp.

My kid knows how to stop me in my tracks….  Luckily he counts our cat as one… the dog we will get when he is 7 as two…. do mice count as 3?

Okay.  So I just like to write cute stories about my kid on my blog.  They aren’t always ANYTHING to do with communication.  Although, this one is.  Years ago I noticed that parents had a tone and a ’spot’ when they were about to ‘discipline’ a kid.  I watched as kids reduced their listening because they knew what was coming.

So

I decided I was going to mix it up.  Make it so Sebastian didn’t know what I was going to say.  Sometimes, an important talk is about a grandpa story.  SOmetimes, it is about feeding the cat.  Sometimes, it is about beautiful moments he and I will never forget.

Most of us teach people not to listen to us.  We do preambles that put the person on notice that the information about to come is going to hurt.   Instead, just say it.  Be IN IT.  Not about it.

There.  Kid stories that indulge the mom and um.. do something else.

Are you a fundraiser? Are you spending time trying to figure out how to convert goosebumps into dollars for the cause you believe in?

I attended a fundraising lunch a couple of months ago that did a fairly hardcore ask at the end of the lunch. I gave them money. I was sort of put on the spot in the moment and the ask came when I had tears in my eyes. So, of course, I donated some cash to the incredible work they were doing.

And today. I do not remember the name of their cause. They converted my goosebumps into cash instead of evangelism and cash. When fundraising, figure out a way to make it sticky.

“Stories are the transactional medium of relationship in our culture.” I said that once. It was a futile attempt to make my economics degree mean something in my training world. Every human on the planet tells stories to their friends, business associates etc. Stories are how things are sticky for us.

When fundraising - help people with repeatable ideas.  When we repeat things we become part of the belief system of these things.  Of course, we want to ask people to donate.  What we don’t want to do is make them feel forced to donate.

I give a ton of money to causes who have never asked me for money.  What they DID do is tell me the stories that made me believe in what they believed in.

Start telling repeatable stories about what really matters to you.  Ask people who believe in what you do to help with the cause.  You will notice yoru fundraising increases not ONE by ONE… it will be like a Fabrege commercial… they will tell two friends.. and so on and so on.