It's hard to find a situation in life where DISC doesn't apply...

Here are some snippets from this past week:

• My parents took my 5 and 7 year old daughters, Annie and Ellie, miniature golfing. They are, respectively, a DI and a C. Mom's report went something like this, "Ellie concentrated so hard on every shot; she was so serious! But Annie went at it like she was playing Polo- - just whacking at it as she walked by. She was having so much fun."


• My 14 year old C daughter waited for me in the car the other day while I ran into a store. When I returned she told me how she was a little nervous waiting in the car by herself and to pass the time she had come up with various ways to elude capture and incapacitate all of the apparent attackers waiting to pounce in the Kohl's parking lot. She had come up with no less than two dozen scenarios and possible solutions for each. They were all incredibly detailed and creative. None, however, included opening the door and setting off the car alarm (note to reader: C's sometimes get so caught up in the details that the obvious eludes them).


• While camping with my husband, our 13 year old I son and our 14 year old C daughter, we did silly stuff around the campfire each night. One night the kids decided we all had to tell a story. Our son's story was completely impromptu and ridiculous. Our daughter had spent an hour writing out and editing her masterpiece. One night it was poems. Again, Claire's was worthy of publishing, David Jr.'s started with the inevitable "Roses are red..." and it just went downhill from there.


• Same camping trip... while crossing one of the many lakes, our C daughter sat nervously in the center of the canoe yelling at anyone who so much as flinched. The I son? He was kayaking along behind us singing Robert Goulet songs at the top of his lungs.


• Not to overlook my C husband (it's not always about the children)... he got to quietly fish and enjoy nature... and think. Some of his favorite things. And I can appreciate those things about him because I understand how he is wired. I'm not mad that his tastes are different from mine, that he'd rather rough it than relax on a beach. I rather like it that we have different interests and passions, but that we can share each other's sometimes, too. I like that he is the calm to my storm... the "understated" to my "out-loud." I understand what it means when he brings me a single wildflower. Dozens of long-stemmed roses don't hold a candle.

And these are just a few, recent situations... situations where I noticed and appreciated and LOVED the differences in my beautiful, little family.