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The Tutu Choosers

Our twins now know they are girls. And in contrast to that - they know they’re Parental Force (me and the hubby) are boys. They’ve always loved to share their discoveries and with verbal communication now in the territory of non-stop chatterboxes, declarative statements are the new norm in our household. For example, just the other night Hope announced (unsolicited) “I am a Girl! You are a Boy!” And my better half didn’t skip a beat. He retorted: “No, I am the girl and you are a boy.” And a mini-debate started as my other daughter, Makena zoomed around giggling. 

For my part, I just smiled as I did our house chores. I recalled how we decided within a month of their birth that we were not going to impose stereotypical notions of what a girl was on our daughters. We asked (to the dismay of some of our chosen godparents and relatives) that we didn’t want automatic gifts of pink, bows, tutus, and tiaras. And the greatest compliment we received at our preschool evaluation with their teachers was that they can keep up with all the boys in the classroom.  Our daughters diversely play with cars, dolls, kitchen accoutrements, and Legos. They also now at three years old are definite in their taste of loving tutus. And because they figured it out and decided without our prodding - we love it.

Quite consistently, they will ask us to do ballet. They will run and grab their tutus and ask me to put on a special song ranging from Taylor Swift to Tchaikowsky to the Frozen Soundtrack. And then we dance. We dance it out as a family. We stumble, plié, carry each other around, twirl and laugh. I’m convinced that as humans we are all disposed to love dancing, to love moving with complete freedom. I think somewhere along the line we lose that love and replace it with self consciousness and fear and inhibition. Ordinary moments in our house in the evening are put to song and dance. And even if I’m dead tired by bedtime, if they ask for a song, I gotta do it. Anything to keep the music in their hearts alive and always free.

I hope that every single one of us finds the extraordinary ability to just shake your booty on a whim. To put on your song of choice and go there - go there to that dance floor that is always yours. May you always dance - with or without your kids. And may you always challenge the limits of what it means to be a boy, a girl, a child and an adult.

Cheers - Marc 

PS. Feel free to share your dance moves/ordinary moment gone extraordinary with us at www.flipitlife.com. For us parents, sharing is daring when we share our truths and it can help us try new ideas out in our family lives. As always, we look forward to connecting with you!

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The Clean Team

We were stuck in our NYC apartment for 8 full days. And by stuck, I mean we chose (mostly because it was FREEZING outside and partially out of laziness) to stay inside during our now 3 year old twin girls’ Christmas vacation. Now this was never the plan. It wasn’t our intention to lounge around in PJs everyday. We had sitter support because we still had to go to work.  We even put out feelers for playdates and dreams of say, visiting that huge Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center, or maybe going to the Children’s Museum of Art all the way cross-town because man did the girls really dig that last time we went out there when it was 65 degrees. 

But alas, no go. Good intentions. Great dreams. But we stayed indoors. And you know what we did with that big stretch of a weekend leading up to New Year’s Eve (when we were thankfully invited to our neighbor’s house for a party)? 

WE CLEANED!  I mean, we tore up the closet that we’d thrown every unused toy, tool, vase and knick knack in. We tried on clothes that were stuck in the nether regions of drawers and backs of closets. I made LABELS! AND extra attached them to the bins with the good Scotch tape for super support to stay on all of 2018! 

And at some point, amid the mess of all closet items spread out in our room, I FELT our family of four completely in sync. And I paused. And I smiled - on my face and in my heart. My husband was on a mission to fix all power cords, TV wires and computer connections so they weren’t being showcased so prominently. Hope was testing out old toy figures we found. Makena was “helping me” sort the junk, I mean, treasures we found. And we were together. Like really together. 

And cleaning, reorganizing and labeling (can you tell I’m into labels - that’s another article), became an extraordinary family moment.  As parents, we all know that our lives are filled with these tasks, chores, challenges and if we’re not paying attention - ordinary moments. But we choose and make these moments. Here’s to the extraordinary moments we will all choose in this New Year.

Cheers - Marc

PS. Feel free to share your ordinary moment gone extraordinary with us at www.flipitlife.com. For us parents, sharing is daring when we share our truths and it can help us try new ideas out in our family lives. Looking forward to connecting with you!

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