Raising Resilience Daily

Let me tell you about the MVP of our household. It doesn’t wear a jersey. It doesn’t drive carpool. It doesn’t even talk back (thank goodness). But it does keep us on track, on time, and—most importantly—on the same page.

It’s our display calendar.

With two kids in elementary school, multiple sports, my own work events, networking, doctor appointments, and oh yeah—family time, holidays, and the occasional attempt at self-care—our life is a beautiful, chaotic swirl. And in the middle of it all sits a humble computer monitor on our kitchen counter, running an app called Mango Display (nope, not sponsored—just obsessed).

Here’s what I have it showing:

• A rolling 4-week calendar view (because one week ahead is never enough)
• The weather (because Minnesota moods matter)
• Our weekly dinner menu (so no one asks “What’s for dinner?” five times-okay, they still do)
• And—this is the kicker—it automatically pulls in the kids’ sports schedules from their team apps. Game times, practice locations, all of it. Like magic.

This isn’t just about staying organized. It’s about survival. It’s about sanity. It’s about reclaiming the mental real estate moms are constantly asked to rent out for free.

Because the number of questions I field in a single day—“Do I have practice today?” “When’s Grandma coming?” “Can I have a playdate/sleepover?”—used to feel endless. Now? I just point. “Check the calendar.”

But here’s the deeper win: I’m not just offloading tasks. I’m teaching my kids two powerful lessons:

1. There’s a system. Use it. Life doesn’t have to live in your head. There’s a place to look for answers.
2. Time is a resource. If you want to add something (a movie, a hangout, a new activity), let’s look together and figure out where it fits.

It’s not just about managing schedules—it’s about modeling how to manage life. How to anticipate, plan, and pivot. How to respect each other’s time. How to be part of a team, even at home.

So yes, I’m all about the calendar. Not because I’m Type A (okay, maybe a little), but because I believe in building systems that support resilience. Systems that help us breathe. Systems that teach our kids that structure isn’t a burden—it’s a tool for freedom.

And if that system happens to live on a screen in our kitchen? Even better.