a toddler, a toy laptop, and the big clarity every team needs

A few mornings ago, my (Kali’s) 13-month-old, Madeline, sat in the middle of the living room with her play laptop, lifted her tiny foot, and popped the entire screen off the keyboard.

I watched her do it slowly, with purpose, as if she had reached her limit with her imaginary inbox.

I had one clear reaction: “Same, girl”. 

when your toddler becomes a meme

I snapped a picture because the moment was just too honest to keep to myself. Her expression was a mix of determination and disbelief. The screen lay next to her on the carpet like a casualty of tiny frustration.

I immediately sent the photo to our our team because I knew they would appreciate the drama of it.

Kristen immediately sent laughing emojis.

Brooke said she genuinely laughed out loud.

Nat and Karri reacted with hearts, which tracks because our entire team adores Madeline almost as much as I do.

There was something about this little moment that felt so familiar. I mean, we’ve all had days where we looked at our laptops like they were the source of every problem we have ever had and are secretly testing us.

We’ve all had moments where the chaos of life meets the chaos of work and our brains quietly whisper, “I would like to detach the screen now.”

what this moment showed me about belonging

What stood out to me was not the joke. It was the joy behind the reactions.

This team doesn’t blink when I send a photo of Madeline in the middle of a workday. They don’t flinch when she babbles during a meeting or when I show up with the tired, honest version of myself. They love her. They love me. They love who we all are together.

There is no pretending here. No need to hide the fact that real life and real work often happen at the same time. No pressure to arrive polished or perfectly composed. Just a group of people who understand that our humanity is not something to manage. It is something to celebrate.

The beauty of this team is how our gifts fit together. The systems people. The writers. The strategists. The visionaries. The ones who bring levity. The ones who hold space. None of us could do this without the others.

Our work clicks into place because we are allowed to be our whole selves, and our whole selves are absolutely, completely, 100% welcome and invited.

When people feel safe and seen, their creativity opens up instead of tightening down.

what this means for the leaders we serve

I keep thinking about how different work feels when people don’t have to hide. The freedom I feel with my team is the same freedom that helps me contribute more generously. It invites me to offer ideas, make connections, bring humor, and show up fully.

District teams are no different.

When staff feel like humans instead of machines, they participate with more heart.

When they feel trusted, they share more ideas.

When they feel included, they step into more ownership.

When they feel safe, they use their authentic voice.

This is where stronger communication grows, not from templates or posts or platforms, but from people who feel supported enough to bring their best, most authentic selves to the table.