Category Archives: Introverts

Alone Together

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The Moms did not become moms by themselves.  So who are Dreamy and iDad? Which mom is married to a fellow introvert? Which mom is married to an introvert in theory but an extrovert in practice?  Read on to find out.

tiffany_head_128Not long ago I was chatting with another mom at a birthday party. After hearing how old Slim and Lunchbox are and that both Dreamy and I work outside the home, she said “Oooh, you’re in the hurt locker.” I laughed and agreed and noted this term must be employed more often in casual conversation.

The phrase rattled around in my head for awhile but, after seeing the 2008 film “The Hurt Locker,” it took on new meaning. I started thinking that, in some respects, raising children is not unlike war: it is an emotionally, intellectually, and physically unrelenting task, involving multiple explosive-laden stages (toddlerdom, teenagers), strategies (sleep and potty training, time outs) and weapons (bottles, blankets, pacifiers). If you are fortunate you have someone in your foxhole for support, a partner who has your back and will support you during the exhaustion, the frustration, and the soul-crushing fatigue. A partner who also knows your strengths and weaknesses and from whom you can learn how best to manage in combat.

Or maybe that’s just my introverted perspective. Fortunately I’ve got Dreamy in my foxhole. In many ways he is an introvert with superhero-strength extroverted abilities. He doesn’t need as much recharge time as I do, for example, and he is infinitely better at some aspects of parenting than I am. I’ve learned a great deal from him and found that implementing some of his tactics can turn a bad day into a pretty darn good one.

Some of his most helpful strategies are:

1.  Have a plan.

Dreamy recently went on a much-deserved overnight trip by himself.  This left me facing two weekend mornings — usually a war zone at our house — alone. Did I panic? No. I thought about what he would do and used preparation, one of my six introvert strengths, to organize a schedule for both days. As much as I loathe the idea of managing and organizing what is supposed to be “free” time the result was positive: two mostly happy kids and one relieved mom.

2.  Get out of the house.

Prior to marriage and family I could stay in my apartment for days with limited human interaction. My offspring, however, think staying home equals a prison sentence. Getting out is exceptionally difficult for me. Weekend mornings used to be about relaxing; now it is difficult to ignore the massive chore list that piles up during the week and shouts for attention on weekends. It is tough to silence the shouts even if it is to everyone’s benefit, particularly the kids. So on Saturday morning I ignored the chores, bundled everyone up and took them on a leaf-hunting expedition in a nearby park. We had a great time and, more importantly, no meltdowns!

3.  Wear them down.

This is a no brainer and more than a little embarrassing it has taken me so long to embrace it. Saturday’s leaf hunt also included a trail walk through the woods, playground time, and let’s-run-the-bases-at-the-ball-diamond time. The best part was we had all the facilities to ourselves, and the only two people with whom I had to interact were Slim and Lunchbox. After lunch, Lunchbox and I napped while Slim went to a playdate. Come bedtime they were out cold. WINNING.

These tactics seem so simple, so obvious, that I wonder why it has taken me so long to get with it. Probably because these activities are not the way I would choose to spend my free time. The proverbial light bulb clicked on, however, and I understood that this weekend wasn’t my time, it was our time. So, check, get over myself and put the kids first. Fortunately I was able to take a few small, marginally restorative breaks.

I suppose my motivation to make this solo weekend different also stems from Dreamy’s last mini-break. When he came home I was angry, exhausted, and emotionally fried. That’s a combination of ugly to which no one should be exposed, especially those whom I hold most dear. What’s that saying about those who fail to learn from the past? Something about being doomed to repeat it?

Overall the weekend turned out well (minus the epic fail that Sunday morning turned to be, but that’s another story) and reminded me that as parents we should constantly be observing others and learning new skills. And sometimes the person with the very best lessons to teach happens to be hunkered down in the foxhole right next to you.

— Tiffany

KathyYou will probably not be surprised to hear that iDad loves computers. He also loves playing music, reading, watching movies, sleeping, and anything that has to do with water. He can go for hours happily immersed in his own world. In other words, he’s a fellow introvert.

I know that often introverts will pair up with extroverts, the whole “opposites attract” thing. And we are opposite in certain ways (me + water = no), but I’m happy I live with someone who doesn’t need to be with me 24/7, who knows I’m not offended when he wants to do his own thing.

Still, parenting with an introvert is trickier than being married to one. I feel like iDad is constantly bailing me out — taking over at the end of the day when Doodlebug was tiny, stepping in nowadays when I need to retreat after an outing. He’s so conscientious about my time that I sometimes worry he’s left holding the bag when I can’t take another minute.

He says he doesn’t feel that way, though, and I think it partly has to do with our different socializing styles. I push myself to stay on for the entire time I’m with other people, while iDad is much more comfortable taking mini-breaks to read a magazine, play some music, or just retreat into the kitchen (even if it’s someone else’s!) for a snack. So even if we spend all day extroverting, he’s grabbing time to himself throughout. I could stand to borrow some of these strategies.

Plus, as we discovered with the HSP survey, certain situations are in fact more draining for me than for him. So maybe I shouldn’t feel guilty if I need to take my time right away, as long as I make sure he has some time to himself later.

Probably the trickiest thing to negotiate since becoming parents has been the balance between family time, couple time, and alone time. Sometimes, with everyone (Doodlebug included) happy to go their separate ways, the three of us don’t spend a lot of time together. Even family time can be draining for me — it’s different now that Doodlebug is older, but there are still plenty of nights when all I want to do is be by myself once she’s asleep.

Now that iDad and I both work at home, though, we have a little more flexibility. We can sneak out to a movie during the day. We can all ride bikes together one afternoon and then he and I can catch up on work that evening. We can eat lunch together if we want. Or near each other, reading separate books. Can’t get much more introverted than that!

— Kathy

Book Review: Quiet Influence: The Introvert’s Guide to Making a Difference by Jennifer Kahnweiler, Ph.D.

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tiffany_head_128The title alone should have prevented me from buying this book; I care about influencing people about as much as I care about the GNP of Kerblechistan. I felt compelled to give it a read, however, particularly after realizing it is geared specifically towards introverts in the workplace. I am one of those, I thought. This book is perfect!

“Quiet Influence” is designed to help introverts maximize six specific strengths in professional settings. They are:  taking quiet time; preparation; engaged listening; focused conversations; writing; and thoughtful use of social media. The author argues that introverts are just as capable of leadership, business development, and other executive functions as extroverts but approach these tasks differently from extroverts.

Diving in, however, I quickly realized we were not going to click. The author’s excessive reliance on a handful of executive coaches and corporate consultants was annoying, as was the constant self-promotion (as evidenced by the concluding section on how the author is available to do keynote speeches, in-house trainings, executive coaching, blah blah blah).

Additionally some of the examples used are downright silly. Someone made POSTERS and put them in the office kitchen! Oooh…way to go out on a ledge there. This may be too judgemental and harsh, but I expected more macro-level and, frankly, more compelling case studies of introverted leaders and how they influence, particularly from someone with an advanced degree in Corporate-Type Stuff (Kahnweiler holds a Ph.D. in counseling and organizational development).

Fortunately I don’t work in the corporate world. Maybe this is another reason why I didn’t connect with this book or its message.

In spite of the above there are three redeeming qualities introverts might find valuable. First, there’s a quiz designed to give you your “Quiet Influence Quotient,”  or QIQ. A series of simple questions and some easy math establishes your baseline QIQ, while a second sub-quiz tells you which of the six strengths you use most often.

As much as I dislike the idea of personality pop quizzes I understand and endorse the QIQ concept. It is useful when trying to identify where on the introvert scale you fall, and it is always helpful to be reminded of your core attributes, particularly if your work environment is geared towards emphasizing weaknesses rather than strengths. I use most, if not all, of these attributes every day in the office.

Second, each chapter discusses how to better develop each strength and provides realistic examples and illustrations of how tinkering with your abilities can improve your ability to influence.

One thing that occurred to me after wading through each section was how often I use core strengths simultaneously; for example, engaged listening and writing. In meetings where lots of people talk at once, talk over each other, and generally TALK A LOT, I listen, observe, and take notes. If needed I’ll summarize those notes in an email and send it to myself so I can better process what actually took place. At the risk of sounding like a simpleton, my brain needs more time to digest and think about things. This is helped immensely by reviewing my notes and addressing lingering issues after taking time to reflect.

Finally, hard-core introverts who work or aspire to work in a corporate or executive setting would benefit from some of the tips and strategies for getting ahead. If “getting ahead” is indeed one’s goal.

Extroverts who manage introverts could certainly benefit from “Quiet Influence” if only to get a better idea how to draw out employees they perceive as introverts. And to set these employees up for success by maximizing the skills introverts have and minimizing exposure to functions or tasks in which introverts might not perform so well.

Parents should read this book if they have an introverted child whom they consider an employee.

If anyone wants to borrow it I am happy to loan it out on a, ehrm, permanent basis.

— Tiffany

Fun, Fun, Fun?

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In which the Moms attend a fun fair and live to tell the tale.

KathyThe scene: a fall fun fair hosted by Doodlebug and Princess Slim’s Girl Scout troop. Bean bag toss. Find-the-penny-in-the-hay. Food sales. Bunches of kids hopped up on sugar. An introvert’s ultimate nightmare, right?

But not for me. Or so I thought. Because I have this thing down now. I’m being smart about my time this year. Yes, I got sucked into going to Costco for food, but I said no to other jobs I thought would be draining. Most importantly, I knew I could take the afternoon off when it was all over. (Thank you, iDad!)

During the fun fair, I was fine. I chatted. I helped. I grumbled a little with Tiffany, but only a little, I swear! On the way home, though, I could feel the energy, adrenaline, faux-extroversion, whatever-it-was that had powered me through the past five hours draining away. And I spent the rest of the day feeling tired, cold, achy, and mildly nauseated. I was useless.

I’ve been there before, that completely used-up place. Not lately, though, not to that extent. I guess I’d started to think I wouldn’t have to be there again. I’ve spent so much time writing for this blog, talking about being an introvert with my friends and family, coming up with ways to honor and respect my personality that I thought maybe I was… what, cured? Like there’s something wrong with me? Apply some Susan Cain, stat!

I’m happy I’m an introvert. And, after some time with an awesome book on Saturday afternoon and a quiet Sunday with my family, of course I’ve recovered from the “fun” fair. Still, sometimes it’s so frustrating that I have to take that time, that I can’t bounce back quicker. Sometimes I still feel like everyone else is going along fine and I’m the weird one, the only one who can’t keep up.

I know that’s not true. Tiffany reports that she went home and took a nap, and I’m willing to bet that nearly every adult there was worn out when we were done. It was a hard day, but it was worth it – overall, the event was a success, and the girls provided an afternoon of fun for the community.

So next time there’s a big event, of course I will help out. I will keep tweaking my coping techniques, I will keep speaking up for what I need, and I will suggest that someone else handle the Costco run. Because, seriously. That place is INSANE.

— Kathy

Playground Politics

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KathyLast week it rained for days and days. We forgot what blue sky looked like. Doodlebug went through severe bike-time withdrawal. I considered buying an ark.

There was one benefit, though – no playground time after school.

Playground time means other moms, and when other moms are around, you have to chat. I’m not such a fan of chatting – I like talking to my friends, of course, but none of them are at the playground after school. They’re at work, or in the kiss and ride line, or meeting their kids somewhere else on the school grounds, which means I have a choice: stand around looking at my phone or try to make conversation with people I don’t know very well.

It’s probably no surprise that I usually go with the phone option. But when I do, I always end up feeling like a middle-school kid eating alone in the cafeteria, shunned by all. This is one of the areas where my introversion and my shyness don’t play so well together – I do realize that, by talking to the other parents, I could get to know them better. If I knew them better, we would have things to talk about and I could avoid the dreaded chatting.

This is Doodlebug’s third year at this school, and all the parents I consider friends are also my neighbors, or the parents of Doodlebug’s friends, or both. In other words, people I see more than every once in a while on the playground. They’re people I’ve known long enough to have real conversations with.

They’re also my Facebook friends, mostly, which isn’t surprising – as an introvert, I’m much more talkative online. I feel weird friending people I’ve only talked to a few times in real life, though, so until I can boost my courage and take that step, I’ll be over by the monkey bars, checking the weather forecast.

— Kathy

Who Needs Sleep?

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The Moms do, because this week we are too tired to come up with a witty intro.

Kathy

I recently read Laura Vanderkam’s book 168 Hours: You Have More Time Than You Think because, well, who doesn’t want more time? I liked her suggestion of figuring out what your “core competencies” are – the things that are most important to you or that only you can do – and eliminating or outsourcing the rest. It helps with all the saying no that we talked about last week. Making my own cheese? Not a priority for me. Handcrafting all my holiday cards? Not a priority for me. Having all the laundry done? Not, apparently, a priority for me.

You know what else is not at the top of my list? Sleep. Anyone who knew me before kids will tell you that’s crazy because, you guys, I was such a good sleeper. I’m a night owl, so I’d stay up until 1 or 2 AM and then sleep till late morning. Okay, or noon. But there are several reasons I’ve had to give up my champion sleeper crown.

  1. The sweet, little-girl-shaped alarm clock we acquired seven years ago

  2. Insomnia (grrr)

  3. Downtime

One of these things is entirely under my control. I could be asleep every night at 10:00. I know this, and every so often I will vow to be better. I will avoid the Internet rabbit hole and not even turn my laptop on at night. I will not read one more chapter. I won’t start that second episode of Friday Night Lights because by the time it’s over it will be too late and I’ll be exhausted and okay, but this is the last one, I promise! It never lasts. 11:30 is my set point.

Doodlebug goes to bed at 8:30, and by then I’ve survived school pick-up (often with playground mom-chatting), the trip home (often chasing after her on her scooter), homework, making dinner, cleaning up, bathtime, reading time (ahh), and the bedtime routine. Yes, I work at home, and yes, I spend a lot of time by myself during the day, but that evening stretch is brutal. At that point I definitely deserve a prize, and that prize is time to myself.

I find it very, very hard to cut this time short. I’ve thought about it a lot – is time awake really more restorative for me than sleep? Physically, it’s obviously not, and I’m not a happy person (or a very pleasant person) when I’m sleep-deprived. But I am a happy person when I get three hours to myself to do whatever I want.

Is there a better way? Probably. I’ve had success with an “Offline after 11” policy, which means I don’t stay up till the wee hours reading blogs anymore. I could bump that forward, at least on some nights. Or I could alternate early and late nights, but whenever I try to set a strict schedule like that I get derailed. So my main strategy is just hanging on till Doodlebug starts sleeping in until ten.

Or nine. I’d take nine at this point. Eight? Zzzzzzz.

— Kathy

tiffany_head_128I stood in the pediatrician’s parking lot, leaning into Dreamy and sobbing my head off. Not petite ladylike sobs, mind you, but guttural, heaving, movie-worthy sobs. It was February 2011 and seven-month old Señor Lunchbox had just been diagnosed with Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV). He’d been coughing incessantly for three or four days and his doctor blithely delivered the news with a “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.  It usually only lasts a week or so.”

Thus began one of the darkest, most terrifying parts of my life. What the pediatrician failed to grasp was that no one had slept – neither Dreamy, nor Lunchbox, nor I – for those three or four days. Lunchbox was so sick he was only able to sleep for about 45 minutes to an hour at a time before another fit of vicious hacking woke him and, by default, us, because when your child sounds like he’s strangling that kind of happens.

I was obviously deeply worried about Lunchbox, but at that moment, the idea of enduring for another seven or even more days without at least a few consecutive hours of rest pushed me over the edge. “I am so tired” was all I could manage to squeak out between sobs.

This tired was different than my usual tired. I have always been a crappy sleeper (apparently this is another trait of Highly Sensitive People) and although I love to sleep, I rarely feel rested even after nine or even ten hours in bed. I had survived two newborns and Lunchbox had acid reflux-related sleep issues from birth, thus feeling worn out and being sleep deprived weren’t exactly new experiences. This Super Sick Kid tired, however, was cruel and deep and unrelenting and further compounded by loops of endless mental what-if-ing.

The virus lasted for about ten days. My ability to function during this time was so impaired that I did a number of incredibly stupid things, such as drive a car and call my Very Important Boss insisting that a colleague had intentionally sabotaged a project. (Note to bosses everywhere: please don’t ever reprimand an employee for doing something like this when you know a sick child is involved. And when you’ve been kept in the loop about the situation the entire time.) I narrowly avoided crashing the car but succeeded at shooting myself in the foot at work.

Some introverts, including my personal hero Susan Cain, tentatively assert that we can get by on less sleep. Jonathan Rauch thinks that “For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating.”  Neither of these seem quite right. Lunchbox’s illness taught me that I am ok with getting by on less, but at some point large blocks of sleep will be required to chip away at whatever sleep deficit has been created.

And while I have no data to support this claim, I am going to go ahead and say that introverts across the board require more sleep than extroverts. Sleep is the ultimate recharge; so if introverts require more recharging than extroverts, introverts without sleep are probably going to fry faster than an egg on a Foreman Grill.

— Tiffany

Just Saying No

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To paraphrase Mr. T, pity the introvert who signs up to be room parent. It’s that time of year again — read on to find out how the Moms handle those nonstop requests to volunteer at school.

KathyOn Monday afternoon I was chatting with another mom on the playground. “Are you going to be room parent again?” she innocently asked me. “You did such a good job last year.”

I’m pleased to report I did not run away screaming.

Here I must note that TEACHERS ARE AWESOME. I’m a teacher’s kid, and I absolutely understand how much time, work, and love the job requires. I want to support Doodlebug’s teachers and her school, and I have the flexibility in my schedule to do so. I like getting to know her classroom, the other kids, and her teachers.

But. But but but.

I learned last year that being room parent is a terrible fit for me and my personality. Doodlebug’s class actually had three room parents, but I ended up being the lead, which meant I:

  • Attended several PTA meetings.

  • Sent countless emails, only some of which were answered.

  • Collected and managed the funds for class parties and teacher gifts.

  • Planned and executed said parties.

  • Came up with ideas for and purchased said gifts.

  • Spearheaded our class’s Teacher Appreciation Week efforts, which included cards, flowers, and food.

  • Participated in a snowman t-shirt stamping extravaganza.

  • Helped 24 seven-year-olds tie-dye t-shirts.

  • Presented flowers to the music teachers after the play.

  • Made Valentine’s Day cupcakes, decorated melted snowman water bottles, and did something for Halloween that I’ve mercifully blocked out of my mind.

  • Procured bags and bags of candy for a gingerbread-house-making-fest.

Actually, now that I look at the list, I see a very clear breakdown of things I enjoy vs. things that make me want to hide in a dark room. Anything where I got to play with sugar was fun. Anything where I was with a group of kids for more than 15 minutes, not so much. Meetings, no. Organizing other people, dealing with money, paint? No, no, NO!

So I politely told the playground mom that I’d be taking this year off instead of screaming “Never again!” There are other, more introvert-friendly ways to volunteer at school.

  • Help stuff the kids’ take-home folders.

  • Make copies for the teacher.

  • Bring coffee and/or snacks to teachers or office staff.

  • Bake treats for parties.

  • Send in paper products for parties.

  • Volunteer to pick up teacher gifts, flowers (no presenting!).

  • Shop for supplies for crafts.

  • Send in money/t-shirts/other supplies when room parents ask. (Note for parents who aren’t able to help in the classroom – this is so much more important than you think! I was grateful for each and every person who sent in funds. And it was a huge help when people remembered to send in materials for craft projects.)

So this year will be different. At Back-to-School Night, I walked by the table full of volunteer sign-up sheets and didn’t put my name down for a single job. I’m going to wait and see what opportunities come up during the year, and I’m only going to choose ones I’m excited about.

NO TIE-DYE!

— Kathy

tiffany_head_128I have no time to volunteer. So I write checks. And respond in a timely fashion to PTA or teacher requests. And bake when I can. That’s all the mental energy I’ve got, people.

Don’t get me wrong. I love teachers and I admire and respect parents who provide material and physical support by organizing and leading activities. But I don’t think I am one of those parents. Even if I did have time would I volunteer for classroom activities? I like the idea of volunteering at school but let’s be real here: ONE seven-year old wears me out. A room full of seven year olds? Um. Would I get a week by myself in Bali to recover? Could I volunteer to reshelve books in the library after school hours? Because that’s about my speed.

I want to support Princess Slim as much as possible, of course, but for me, right now,  support means creating a home environment conducive to learning, emphasizing the importance of reading, feeding her healthy food, and making sure she gets enough sleep. And by loving her to bits for who she is. If I contribute bake sale brownies made from a box instead of from scratch it doesn’t mean I support her any less, nor does it mean I’m an inferior parent. This is what I can do right now. And you know what? Seven year olds can’t tell the difference between boxed and homemade anyway!

You’d think this would cause an Instaguilt™ flare-up. Fortunately it doesn’t thanks to plenty of therapy and the ability to say no;  in fact, the necessity of saying no. If you have a difficult time with the latter this article offers a quick and easy tutorial. I find the idea of a Resentment Journal delicious. Oh, the pages I could fill…

I make kick-ass from-scratch brownies, however. Just so you know.

— Tiffany

Summer Campin’

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School is in session and summer is over.  How did the Moms cope?

We think the song “Summer Nights’” from “Grease” pretty much sums it up.  With some amended lyrics, of course.

Summer campin’, it’s hot outside

There were days when everyone cried

                                                “Too much art!” our sweet girls said

Next year maybe something different instead?

Summer’s done, we had some fun

But uh oh, that tricky downtime… 

tiffany_head_128“Nature is NOT fun Mommy and this is ALL YOUR FAULT!” Princess Slim shouted and pointed to her filthy legs and dirt-caked shoes. She marched into the bathroom and slammed the door. Nature Fun Camp was apparently not so fun.

Cue hot tears in my eyes and lump in my throat. And cue a little something I call Instaguilt™, one of the unexpected and unpleasant side effects of being a mother. Instaguilt™ is rampant in mothers who work outside the home and occurs primarily whenever the school nurse calls and during drop-off or pick-up times of day.  Symptoms include feeling absolutely shredded about leaving or collecting offspring at or from camp/day care/school/Somewhere Else and an endless cycle of self-recrimination regarding career and life choices. No known treatment exists.

Instaguilt™ aside, this summer was an experiment for Princess Slim, and, by default, for our family. If you recall from the Lazy, Hazy post, we signed Slim up for a variety of camps as opposed to sending her to one place for the entire break. Yes, this meant lots of juggling for Dreamy and me as we had to constantly rework commuting arrangements; thankfully Kathy and iDad supported us during weeks in which extended care wasn’t available.

The larger issue was my major anxiety about how all this change would affect Princess Slim. All in all I think she did ok and seemed to enjoy herself at most of the places she went (note to self:  no nature camp next year). Of the 11 total weeks off she was in camp for eight, and four of those weeks she went to camps along with BFF Doodlebug. Slim had other friends at the camps Doodlebug didn’t attend and was thus never in a position where she didn’t know anyone.

Slim also had two weeks off for trips to the farm and beach, respectively, a few days with me, and two days of mornings with a neighborhood sitter and afternoons with Dreamy. By the time the last camp finished, however, Slim was definitely over it and ready for some unstructured down time.

We learned a few things as a result.  First, Slim and Doodlebug will tandem camp again next summer. It eased Slim’s jitters (and my guilt) knowing friends were around even if the physical location was new. Second, we have a better idea of what types of activities Slim likes, so when registration time rolls around we can make more informed choices. Finally, at seven years old one should be able to go see a movie in the middle of the day or read a book or go to the pool. It’s called “relaxing” and we need to do more of it. Thus we now know that taking a camp time-out here and there is necessary and, more importantly, good for her.

I realized this while watching her practice cartwheels on the beach. Could she be my introvert after all?

Cue hot tears in eyes, lump in throat.

— Tiffany

Kathy

Overall, this summer was . . . okay. I know, that’s hardly a ringing endorsement, but in comparison to years past, I’ll take it.

What worked:

  • Block scheduling. Our decision to group Doodlebug’s camps together in a five-week chunk (with a week off in the middle) worked out so well that I think we’ll be doing camps that way from now on. I liked having those weeks of structured time grouped together, and Doodlebug had plenty of time before and after the block to just chill out. I think she enjoyed the change of pace during the camp weeks.

  • Pool time. Doodlebug and iDad spent many afternoons there, with friends and on their own. Since our school playground was being replaced over the summer, this was key for making sure Doodlebug stayed active. And since I didn’t usually (okay, ever) go along, it was a good, consistent source of me time. Everybody wins!

  • Having buddies. New rule: Doodlebug must always know someone at camp. Having Princess Slim as a partner in crime made those weeks much more fun (although I’m not sure how much the counselors loved this arrangement!). Aside from camp, we lucked out when our good friends who usually spend summers away decided to stay home this year. Lots of playdates, lots of ice cream!

What didn’t:

  • Work. I’m writing a novel, and I had big plans to take a break from it at the beginning of the summer (the hanging-out phase) and come back to it, refreshed and inspired, once Doodlebug started her camps. But then I signed up for a revision workshop, which meant I had to finish and submit my draft a few weeks after school got out. Calling those weeks stressful would be putting it mildly.

After that, I was supposed to leave the manuscript alone for a month, a month which included two weeks of camp. My plan to focus on other writing projects during those weeks was derailed by a nasty cold that turned into pinkeye. Not recommended!

  • Unstructured time. A summer day can be very long.  This is great when you’re seven, because you can fit in drawing AND reading AND playing with ponies AND watching TV. Doodlebug really needed those low-key days, but it was hard for me to let things unfold completely on her schedule. I wanted to give her time to do her own thing, but I wanted to be available if she wanted to do something together. Since I never knew which it was going to be, I spent a lot of time on little projects but never accomplished much. Those files in the basement, the ones I never organized when we moved in three years ago? Still a disaster.

Another facet to this is that I just plain don’t like not being in control of my time. I wish I could say that a few lazy summer days helped me let go of that a little, but they didn’t. What did work was (wait for it) having more control! Since we’re lucky enough to have iDad working at home, at the beginning of each day we set up a time when I would be off-duty for an hour or two. That helped immensely, and if we’re both still at home for future summers we’ll make sure to stick with that system.

But I’m interested to know how other parents handle this, especially people without backup. Do you set a schedule for together time vs. alone time when you know you’ll be home all day? Do you just resign yourself to the fact that you won’t get as much done over the summer? If you do feel like you’ve found a good balance, I’d love to know your strategies! Because there’s always next summer…

— Kathy

Who Are You Calling Sensitive?

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Pop quiz, hotshot — are you a Highly Sensitive Person? Psychologist Elaine Aron has found that about one in five people have extra-sensitive nervous systems. She’s also found that around 70% of HSPs are introverts. Take her self-test and find out if you qualify, and read on to see how the Moms scored.

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KathyWhen I took the Highly Sensitive Person quiz, I had the kind of “Ohhhh!” moment a lot of people seem to have when they read Quiet. Now I’m realizing it’s not just that I get drained after being with people (because I’m an introvert), but that too much stimulation of any kind (activity, noise, touch, taste, smell) can also do me in.

Now let’s see, what things in my life might have that combination?

Oh right, parenting.

I think it helps explain why the baby phase was so overwhelming for me, with the lack of sleep, hormone insanity, and sharp increase in physical contact all packed into such a short time. I think it solves the mystery of why I rarely wanted music on in the house for the first few years of Doodlebug’s life. I think it reinforces my policy of shopping on my own, without Doodlebug, as much as possible.

It helps me understand my family dynamic better, because when I asked iDad to take the quiz for himself, he only checked a few boxes. Now I get why he doesn’t need to hide in a dark room after a day at the kite festival or a trip to the pool.

And it helps me be a better parent to Doodlebug, because when I did the kids’ version of the quiz for her, she seemed to fall into many of the categories as well. Even before I’d heard the term HSP I’d learned to be highly sensitive to her sensitivity – I watch for signs that she’s getting overwhelmed, I build downtime into her day, and (when possible) I don’t push her to do more than she can.

In her book The Highly Sensitive Person, Aron repeatedly points out that being highly sensitive is a two-sided coin – we notice more, but it affects us more quickly. So fine, I won’t ever be the kind of parent who can take her kid on nonstop wild, crazy adventures and come back for more. But if I can help Doodlebug realize what situations are overwhelming for her and why, and help her think of strategies to handle them, then that sounds pretty important to me.

Plus I have a really good argument for why iDad should handle all future Chuck E. Cheese birthday party duties. HaHA!

— Kathy

tiffany_head_128Princess Slim and Señor Lunchbox are suddenly into the “Toy Story” franchise.  We recently watched “Toy Story 3”  and holy shit, y’all. This is probably the most disturbing kid’s movie I have seen in a long time. It seemed to me an unpleasant and frankly scary mashup of George Orwell’s book 1984 and the more sinister aspects of the 1963 film “The Great Escape.” Not to mention Big Baby reminded me of  Pinhead and that damn clapping monkey is straight out of a Stephen King’s short story published in 1985. Had I realized these images and themes were in the film we never would have watched it. The larger question, however, is why did this movie upset me so much? Particularly the part where the toys are sliding down towards the incinerator towards a potentially fiery doom. Seriously, Pixar. Not cool.

Upon further reflection I observed that for many years I have consciously avoided super-violent books, movies, and television shows. The associated imagery is simply too upsetting and difficult to process. OK, you say. So what?

When Kathy first told me about the “Highly Sensitive Person” quiz I was skeptical. I re-read the portions of Susan Cain’s book Quiet dealing with this area of research. Still, I didn’t completely buy it. Then I took the quiz.

Well, duh.

Suddenly my aversion to violent media made more sense. So does my sensitivity to caffeine, general jumpiness (don’t ever jump out of a closet at me.  EVER.), and a whole host of other personality traits. All combined I’m pretty much the textbook definition of a HSP. I took the children’s quiz also and so far Princess Slim possesses a few of the HSP traits; Señor Lunchbox demonstrates some as well, but honestly, his personality is still cooking and I swear he’s a different creature from one minute to the next.

Parenting and all its sights, smells, and sounds is therefore clearly a body slam to HSPs, particularly during the first few years.  Dr. Aron’s resources, however, have already helped me to recognize and, more importantly, to manage these traits in myself and the kids. Corny as it may sound, the quizzes have enabled me to get to know them a bit better, and even a basic awareness of these characteristics can shorten a tantrum or soothe a hurt. Further, this article reminds and helps HSP parents play to their strengths.

These little tidbits are also yet another reminder to pay attention to yourself. If you are overwhelmed, frazzled, or fried by someone else’s anxiety unfortunately for HSPs all this trickles down to your kids, who can see and sense it just like mini-clairvoyants. Stop, breathe, and find some quiet. Things will settle if you allow yourself time to recover.

And for me, recovery includes deleting “Toy Story 3” off the DVR.

— Tiffany

Write It Out

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The Moms like to write.  Duh.  But how does writing help in the parenting department?

Tiffany Confession time:  I babble when nervous.  Gaps in conversation make me uncomfortable and as a result, I prattle.  On and on until I can extract myself from the situation.  I will change the subject six or seven times, pepper people with inane questions, or blurt out something marginally inappropriate and usually profane.

While I am perfectly content with silence (oh, hell, I CRAVE it, who are we kidding?) when alone or with a few carefully selected friends, larger groups of people or social events cause me to quake with fear on the inside.  Numerous times during these interactions I find myself thinking, “Couldn’t I just write you all an email?”

Introverts like to write.  It is easy to see why:  writing allows time to process and construct responses and to reflect upon the interaction itself and any resulting feelings or ideas.  For me writing is a quiet, solitary activity.  Writing also serves as an ordering exercise and allows for the mental arrangement of a tiny portion of the endless stimuli with which I am bombarded.  It can take the form of a simple list to a free-form exercise describing the overwhelmingness of everyday life or how happy a pair of well-fitting pants makes me feel.  These things, in aggregate, calm me down and permit a return to center, if you will.  Oh, the power of a blank piece of paper and a pencil.

And believe it or not, I think an affinity for writing makes me a better mom.  Obviously there are many, many situations with small children that do not allow time to formulate a considered response (example:  Señor Lunchbox.  Every.  Damn.  Day.).  As Princess Slim has matured, however, we’ve had some great conversations during which I’ve been able to offer more considered and thoughtful responses to the changing nature of her questions.  Writing has undoubtedly trained me to think this way.

I hope writing will bolster our mother-daughter relationship during the tumultuous teen years when she hates me and doesn’t want to acknowledge my existence.  That can all be fixed with a funny note or email, right?  

– Tiffany

KathyPoking my head in after a week away at a writing workshop to say I AGREE, both on the importance of writing for introverts and the sad lack of opportunities to gather one’s thoughts while wrangling little kids. One of the toughest things for me as a parent is having to fly by the seat of my pants so often.

But, like Tiffany, I hope that will change as Doodlebug gets older. Long ago I wrote down the title of this book, a journal for moms and daughters to write together. It looks like it’s aimed at tweens, and I think it will be great to have not only a place where we can “talk” without being face to face but also a method of communication that will allow me to marshal my thoughts and my reasoning ahead of time.

You wouldn’t even have to use a true diary, any notebook would do. And Doodlebug and I both looooove pretty notebooks. I might just have to raid my stash and get us started sooner rather than later. Maybe today!

– Kathy

 

 

Fake It Until You Make It?

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A recent article in the Wall Street Journal reports introverts would be happier if they just acted like extroverts more often.

Really?

The Moms have some issues with this.

Big ones.

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KathyI will go ahead and estimate that I own 1000 books. I’m constantly maxing out the 50-book limit on my library card, too. I track book release dates like other people track movie releases, and sitting down with a new book by an author I love is one of my favorite things in the world. And if I have uninterrupted time to read that book in one or two big gulps? Bliss.

You know what else I love? Amusement parks. I love Skee-ball. I love funnel cakes and cotton candy. I love twirly, twisty, spinning rides, and I love roller coasters (warning: I’m a screamer). I love photo booths, and one day I WILL convince my family to do one of those old-timey dress up photo shoots with me.

According to the Wall Street Journal, the fact that I, an introvert, can enjoy an amusement park proves that introverts should totally act like extroverts. All the time! We’d be so much happier! Just, you know, get out there and have fun and stuff!

To which I say: Are you kidding me with this?

No one is saying that introverts can’t or don’t enjoy many of the same activities extroverts do. Yes, I love to read, but I also like talking with friends, even at (gasp!) parties. I’m currently obsessed with Netflixing “Friday Night Lights,” but I also enjoy going to real-live football games. And while you’re more likely to find me singing along with Coldplay alone in my car, I was there in the nosebleed section the last time they came to town.

But here’s the thing – those more intense activities, done for sustained periods of time, are draining for introverts. That’s why I have an issue with the second study cited in the Wall Street Journal article.

Dr. John Zelenski’s research, which was presented in the April 2013 issue of the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, found that introverts underestimated how much fun it would be to act extroverted and also overestimated how taxing it would be. But in these studies, which lasted only 20 minutes, the subjects were asked to do things like chat with a new person or work with a group to put a puzzle together.

That hardly sounds intense to me. In fact, that sounds like everyday life. What (I believe) is truly taxing for an introvert is the successive, repeated, sometimes undesired occasions when we are required to act extroverted throughout the course of a day. The study didn’t measure this. And it certainly wasn’t able to measure the effects of a major event like, say, a trip to an amusement park.

Yes, I love them. But I know that I’ll need time to recharge afterward, to regain the energy I expended having all that fun. So I don’t think, as the study suggests, that I’m talking myself out of enjoyable events by choosing not to spend every weekend at an amusement park. I think I’m being realistic and honoring my own temperament by not going so often that I collapse in a heap next to the Tilt-A-Whirl. Because, frankly, that doesn’t sound like much fun to me.

— Kathy

tiffany_head_128I am not a psychologist. I do not play one on TV, nor do I have any experience designing psychological research studies or interpreting their results. In fact, during my first read of the Zelenski study, with its many pages containing what looked like terrifyingly complicated equations, I had almost had a panic attack.

But I digress.

While the Wall Street Journal article offers additional and a somewhat contrary perspective towards the end of the piece, it goes without saying I disagree with the article’s, erm, dumbass title and the study Kathy references above.

Let me repeat:  I am not a social scientist. Multiple readings of Dr. Zelenski’s study, however, left me with the following questions:

  • Study subjects represent a very narrow demographic group — university undergraduate students.  Why the lack of diversity among participants?

Again, Survey Novice here, but I suspect a deeper and wider sample would generate vastly different results.  Kathy came up with the term “experienced introvert,” and I think improving the breadth and depth of the survey pool — to include people of different ages who are probably more comfortable in their own skins, and, more importantly, people from different life stages including parents, working professionals, and senior citizens — would offer a better representation of the general population.

  • What’s behind the descriptive word choices in the Method section, Materials subsection?

The language used in the extraverted instructions is unabashedly positive (“bold,” “adventurous,” “assertive”) while the word choices for the introverted instructions are decidedly negative (“lethargic,” “passive,” “unadventurous”). These words seem obviously biased to me and I wonder how their use might influence potential outcomes.

  • The study also relies on something called “affective forecasting,” defined by Psychology Today as:

                  Affective forecasting is predicting how you will feel in the future. As it turns out, we’re                       terrible at it. We’re not good judges of what will make us happy, and we have trouble                      seeing through the filter of the now. Our feelings in the present blind us to how we’ll                        make decisions in the future when we might be feeling differently.

If affective forecasting as a concept is weak sauce, doesn’t it follow that it would be a rather shaky foundation upon which to build a serious academic inquiry?

To be fair the authors do express reluctance to be “prescriptive,” yet the last lines of the study — “ … a few more moments of extraverted behavior might be good for their [introvert’s] happiness (even if they do not think so)” — make me want to deliver a karate kick to their collective shins.

One of my favorite Anna Quindlen quotes addresses the idea of giving up on being perfect and “beginning the work of becoming yourself.” Perfection doesn’t exist (whatever, Beyoncé), but pretending to be something you aren’t or to like doing something that you don’t is a long way from becoming yourself and being true to your inner disposition. And that, dear reader, is an enormous part of achieving happiness.

— Tiffany