Stories from Kristina + Breanne

  Shared by Breanne Smedley During my summer, winter, and spring breaks in college, I worked at Costco. It was an awesome gig. They had a program for college students that allowed them to come back on their breaks, work to earn some money during the most busy times of the year, then go off on your way. I worked in various roles: Front end assistant: Where I learned how to fit things in boxes like a Tetris game. I still credit my ability to pack the trunk of a car to my Costco days. Go-back person: Running through the warehouse, returning things that people left in their carts, then “changed their mind” when they got to the checkout line (I.e. didn’t want to put it back, but also didn’t want to just leave it laying around in a random spot) Door person: Checking for membership cards and marking squiggly lines down people’s receipts. And my favorite… Cart wrangler. Costco does everything big, including their carts. When I was on cart duty, my job was to collect carts from the stalls, line

  Shared by Breanne Smedley “Hiking accident…” The summer before entering my eighth-grade year, I had the worst fitness-related experience of my life so far. It was at Young Life camp, and it was the last day. The week prior had been filled with amazing experiences. Fun times with friends.  Zip-lining, blob, and ropes course adventures.  Meaningful conversations with mentors.  And lots of delicious camp food. On the last day, our cabin decided to wake up before the sun came up to hike to the top of the largest hill at camp: Communication Hill. A group of about 8 of us set out in the dark. The goal: Make it to the top of the hill before sunrise. This “hill” was no small feat. Within minutes, my lungs were on fire. Legs burning. The incline was so steep that I felt I could reach out and touch the path ahead of me. We didn’t leave ourselves much time to get the job done, either. Soon, our group realized we had to pick up the pace if we wanted to experience the sun peaking over the top of

  Shared by Breanne Smedley When I was in seventh grade, my family and I took an amazing trip to Orlando. I remember looking forward to this trip for months. We were planning to do it all. Disney World.  Epcot.  Universal Studios. My sister and I had a blast. Running through the parks, using our “express passes” to hop the lines. Going back to our favorite rides over and over. The one that we couldn’t get enough of was at Universal Studios. It was named the Dueling Dragons. This ride was a combination of two inverted coasters. Meaning the track was above us, instead of below. So our feet were dangling through the entire ride. We would either get on the “fire” dragon or the “ice” dragon. Then, the ride would shoot the coasters off in different directions. We would twist, turn, and drop at super high speeds. At one point in the ride, the two dragons would face each other. Time to duel. The ride would slow down and while we got a good look at the opposing dragon full of people facing us.

  Shared by Breanne Smedley “Can’t save them all…” I hear this phrase being thrown around education every once in a while. Difficult student.  Won’t respond to feedback.  Defiant.  Rude. Even after multiple strategies, intervention, and time passed.  Nothing seems to change. “Welp, can’t save them all…” I’m tempted to use this phrase too. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve tried everything I can think of to connect with a player or student. To help them change mindsets, behavior, or performance. Maybe weeks, and months have passed of trying. And these people continue to make choices that negatively impact themselves or others. The unmotivated player.  The one who keeps making the same error, over and over.  The student who doesn’t give effort.  The one who is disrespectful. After a certain point, it’s legitimate to think. “Well, I’ve tried everything. Nothing more I can do. It’s on them now.” Can’t save them all. Personally, I think this way of thinking is a crutch. It immediately limits our

  Shared by Kristina Smedley “Tickets Sold Here…” Who knew that 2 ladies, 2 feather boas, and a stack of $2.50 tickets could raise $2500 in just a few hours! Don’t get any ideas! We were fully clothed and cold, probably wishing we could trade those boas for scarfs! It was October 12, 2012. The Pike Place Market Foundation was holding their annual Arcade Lights food and wine tasting fundraiser. Outside, at night, in the Market. It was chilly. But amazing as the market transformed from local crafts and flowers into local food and wine booths. Then, filled up with people. And warmth. And it was just about time for Mikayla and I to hit the aisles. As ticket sales ladies. 1 ticket = $2.50. 2 tickets = $5. Or 5 tickets for $10! I remember thinking “What the heck am I doing?” Ticket sales are not my thing. Chatting, interrupting, trying to push tickets on people. I should have been on the setup crew. But it’s only a couple hours and then we can enjoy the event. So we’re off… aprons, boas, a s

  Shared by Breanne Smedley With Kristina and I’s work towards furthering the mission of Mindfluent Leadership, I’ve been thinking a lot about this statement lately. In my mind, the idea of a work-life balance is an ideal state of living that I am constantly striving for. I think it’s a point that I’ll finally get to, through dividing my time to strike a perfect balance between work I have to do, and the life I want to live. Maybe work-life balance is a feeling? How is it achieved, though? 8 hours of “work” + 8 hours of “life”+ 8 hours of sleep = Balance? To be honest, this phrase is starting to seem elusive. Because it assumes that I place every minute in my day into two categories: Work: Teaching, coaching, planning, grading, emailing Life: Family, exercise, things that bring joy and fun But where does Mindfluent Leadership fit? I suppose it could be considered “work”, but this passion also brings me joy. I feel inspired, motivated, and alive when planning, envisioning and executing

  Shared by Breanne Smedley Last night, I burned our dinner on accident. When the salmon came out of the oven, some pieces were black on top, smoking, visibly dry, and flaky. “Wow,” Brett said as he tried to eat a piece. “I think this is the second meal in 9 years together that didn’t turn out.” The first was a version of a vegan eggplant lasagne… We still haven’t been able to eat large quantities of eggplant since. We joked as we tried to mix the pieces we could salvage with the sauce from our stir-fried veggies. “On a scale of sushi to the turkey from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, how dry is the salmon?” Brett said 7. I think he was being modest.   “Well, was it worth it?” I asked. “Definitely.” Yep, I ruined the dinner. But while that salmon was getting the moisture sucked out of it in the oven for an extra 40 minutes, Brett, Charlee, and I were upstairs in Charlee’s room. Playing, reading, helping Charlee take her first steps. Before heading up, I checked the salmon and de

  Shared by Breanne Smedley It’s a daily occurrence in our house. A sink, filled with pots, pans, and dishes. And a spot next to the sink stacked high with clean pots, pans, and kitchen utensils. Looking as if one more thing were place on top, it would all come toppling down. And a dishwasher loaded, either waiting to be run or waiting to be unloaded. The cycle seems like it never ends. Always something to be washed, loaded, or put away. It’s not that we neglect doing our dishes. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Brett and I are constantly saying to each other things like: “Didn’t we JUST run the dishwasher yesterday?” “The sink was clear of dishes last night, how is it full again?!” “There are only 2.5 people living in this house, how do we produce so many dirty pots and pans?!” Yesterday, as I was in front of the sink trying to scrub my way to the bottom of yet another pile of utensils and pots, I let out another complaint. “I feel like I’m ALWAYS doing dishes!” Brett responded, “Wel

  Shared by Kristina Smedley “Unfriended…” “Yep, I was unfriended via text this week,” my close friend shared with me. Unfriended? Like on Facebook, but in real life? Apparently so. She shared that she had been trying to meet up with a good friend. A friend that she usually sees every month or so. Who she enjoys long conversations and funny experiences with. She had sent a few texts. No response. She waited. Still no response. So, jokingly she asked if her friend was ignoring her. Then came the response. “We didn’t really click last time we saw each other. And I’m really busy, so I don’t think we should hang out anymore.” Ouch. That would sting. That really is getting Unfriended. Someone you’ve know for years. Have enjoyed a lot of time with. Then suddenly, with no conversation you’re told that you’re no longer friends. It’s really hard for me to imagine this. The only experience I can relate it to is seeing a friend be laid off. Their company no longer needed them. With no emotional c

  Shared by Kristina Smedley “College is Required…” To be successful in life, I must go to college. That has always been my belief. I don’t remember my parents ever telling me that. But I do remember fun family trips to WSU to watch football games with my cousins. Of asking where my parents lived in college. How they met each other. If they got good grades. I knew from a young age that I would go to college. I knew I had to get good grades to get in. So, I did. I knew it would be expensive. So, I worked and saved. I took college classes in high school to get a jump start on the credits. I applied for scholarships. And thankfully my parents were able to help me along the way. Then, I got to college and realized I didn’t really know what I wanted to be when I grew up. How could I possibly choose a major? How would I leave, ready for success, if I didn’t know what success I was shooting for? So, I played it safe. I chose Business. And a minor in math. Because I liked math, I really liked

  Shared by Kristina Smedley “Must do it all…” That has been my [limiting] mindset for many years. I think people tried to tell me this. Just not in the ways that I was willing or open to hearing. One day, with an open computer and notebook in one hand and a coffee sloshing in the other, I high-heel-hustled between conference rooms. It’s a miracle I didn’t spill or trip! “Smedz, everything ok buddy? Can I help you with that?” asked a worried colleague. “I’m great. Just running between meetings that I need to host,” I reply. A little out of breath. Or, “You have your hands in too many things. Stay in your lane.” I’ve shared this story before. That conversation pissed me off. I had never felt less appreciated or seen. But looking at this again, maybe in his ineloquent and gruff way he was trying to help me slow down and focus. I was spreading myself too thin. I have countless memories like these. Subtle messages that maybe I was carrying too much. But I also have many rewarding memories

  Shared by Breanne Smedley Charlee is at an age where she is starting to copy what Brett and I do. It’s pretty fun to experience. We start clapping our hands together, and moments later Charlee is doing the same. Including the same cheesy grin on her face that apparently happens when you clap and smile at your child. We make blowing sounds with our mouths or start clicking our tongues. Charlee does them back. Most mornings start out with a string of “Hiiiii”s back and forth with each other. Charlee mimicking the inflection that we use. Monkey see, monkey do! Then there’s the things that she does on her own. Things that I find myself asking, “Where did she learn that?” Like when she takes her to play remote, and puts it to her ear like she’s talking on a phone. Or when she found one of my hair ties on the ground. She picked it up. I thought it was headed to her mouth like almost everything else she picks up off the ground and was prepared to take it away. Instead, she took it between b