Category Archives: School

I Am … Queen LaTeacha

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tiffany_head_128“So, if you’re such an introvert, how are you going to manage interacting with a hundred students each day?” — Dreamy

“Wait, you’re an introvert?  Why do you hang out with us then?” — Anthony, eighth grader

I asked myself these questions, or variations of them, multiple times over the past few years. The best answer I can offer goes something like this: remember a few years ago when Beyoncé released an album called I Am … Sasha Fierce? While promoting the record she explained Sasha Fierce is her onstage personality who emerges during the superstar’s showstopping performances. Sasha is confident, in control, and a force to be reckoned with. In other words, as Beyoncé’s alter ego, Sasha owns it.

My teacher alter ego is named Queen LaTeacha. She takes the stage Monday through Friday from 7:50 a.m. to 11:17 a.m. The Queen is animated, expressive, outgoing, and – dare I say? – an extrovert. That said, however, by the end of my last class I am wiped. out.

Recharging begins at precisely 11:21 a.m., after my students have left and the hallways have cleared. I close my classroom door, sit down, and exhale. Sometimes I stare at the wall for a few minutes, sometimes I put on some music and begin puttering around the room, stacking chairs and tidying up. Organizing helps me feel in control, and that feeling, combined with a few moments of quiet , has so far helped me to refocus before taking on grading, planning, and preparing for the next day.

What I wondered about most was how does this switcheroo happen, exactly? How am I able to suddenly and seamlessly switch from my introverted self to Queen LaTeacha?

As usual Susan Cain comes to the rescue. Chapter nine of Quiet is simply revelatory. She profiles Professor Brian Little, a popular lecturer and professor whose work on personality and motivational psychology is groundbreaking. Little’s work helped me to identify teaching as one of my “core personal projects” (p. 209) and thus helped me to understand how these two parts of my personality work together in service of a larger goal or mission. I am motivated, passionate, and plain ol’ excited about this new path, and feeling this way enables my extroverted traits to take center stage.

How does this alter ego business affect parenting? Now more than ever I am acutely aware of the need to better manage my energy levels. And, as we’ve seen, I am not very good at this.  It is critical I reserve energy for my own kids, not just the ones I teach. My husband needs some too, as do friends and other family members.

As Kathy notes, parenting is also a core personal project which requires loads of additional energy. So do I still feel crunched and pressured to be “on” most of the time? Of course. But here’s the thing: my job makes me happy, and this seems to offset some of the adverse effects of so much extroverting. As long as small chunks of the day can be reserved for recharging I am confident this new lifestyle will sort itself out. That’s the only way I can see these various pieces fitting together to create a healthy and unified whole.

Unless you, dear readers, have ideas. The Queen is taking any and all suggestions.

— Tiffany

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KathySchool can actually be a great place to be an introvert – for students, I mean. Lots of structure, stretches of quiet where you’re expected to focus on your own work, and plenty of opportunities to read and write. But it can also be loud, chaotic, and severely draining.

That’s not just my perspective as an adult returning to volunteer (or sneaking in to drop off cupcakes). I have very clear memories of seventh grade and the relief I felt when I was finally deemed old enough to come home to an empty house. Before that I went to a series of babysitters after school with bunches of other kids, and while that was definitely fun (kind of like having a rotating group of extra siblings through the years), it added an extra couple hours of “on” time to the end of an already-long school day.

Middle school was also when all the angsty friend/boy drama kicked into high gear, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that after school I gorged on alone time, happily watching Guiding Light, playing Tetris, and writing stories until the rest of my family got home. High school wasn’t much less draining in that respect – I can remember sighing to my mom that “At school you have to be nice to everyone all the time.”

So I think I’m extra aware that my little introvert needs her own downtime after school. Doodlebug’s only extracurricular activity right now is Brownies, and that’s one night each month. On top of a standing appointment she has once a week, that’s it. I would love to get her into an art class or swimming lessons, but I’m wary of messing with a schedule that already seems tight for her. On afternoons when I have to drag her on an errand or three, I grit my teeth and anticipate a dinnertime meltdown. Possibly from either one of us – it’s draining for me, too!

And after reading articles like this interview with our hero Susan Cain, I’m wondering more about ways Doodlebug can grab pockets of quiet time during the school day. Her class’s schedule seems to have several self-directed components, which is great, and they have reading time each day. But they are still sitting at tables, not desks, even though they’re third graders. I hope this ends next year – sometimes everyone just needs their own space, even extroverts.

Doodlebug has been lucky so far to get teachers who understand that she needs time to warm up and who push her just far enough. And I’m excited about the ways technology will let her and other younger introverts contribute in class at their own speed. I never felt comfortable jumping into a classroom debate at 90 mph, but I would have loved having a class blog or message board.

Or a Guiding Light message board! Ohhh, the hours I could have wasted after school on that!

— Kathy

Rebalancing Act

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KathyI didn’t make it to the farmers market this week.

I didn’t finish sorting Doodlebug’s papers from second grade. Or technically start sorting Doodlebug’s papers from second grade. I didn’t catch up on all the newsletters that I let pile up over the summer, or post more on our Twitter account, or get a handle on Mount Laundry.

I didn’t write a long blog post.

There’s a lot to do in the first week of school – not just filling out the forms, or finding my lunch-packing mojo, or pumping Doodlebug for intel about what goes on during the day. (Maybe this will be the year that I can finally keep all of her specials straight.)

Suddenly I have nearly seven straight hours to myself each day, and there are so many activities I could fill those hours with. Usually I am itching to get back to my novel-in-progress, but in looking back I see that I actually spent a good amount of time with it this summer. Thanks, Notebook of Power!

So this week included work, but also stuff like exercise (oh yeah, that), and remembering which doctor’s appointments I need to schedule, and planning meals before I go to the grocery store. Maybe if I’d spent less time reading posts from Brain Pickings I could have squeezed the farmers market in too. But we have enough food. Maybe I should have started another load of laundry instead of turning on The Daily Show, but we have enough clean underwear to get through the weekend.

This week was a chance to let my brain relax, expand, readjust. I have next week to get caught up, and the week after that, and the week after that, all the way until June. Happy back-to-school, introverted moms. I think it’s going to be a great year.

— Kathy

Hello? Is It Me You’re Looking For?

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  Tiffany  As a child of the 80’s this Lionel Ritchie song pops up in my head every now and then. And I figured it would be an amusing way to re-introduce myself to the fabulous Introverted Mom community. To refresh your memory you can read more about me here.

Three cheers to Kathy who has so brilliantly run the blog since January. Hip hip hooray! (Repeat two times to yourself.) I am thankful to her for picking up my slack and for growing our group, and I am super excited to be back.

So where the Hell have I been?

The short answer: school. Because I am a masochistic lunatic.

Earlier this year I enrolled in a professional development course. It turned out to be a lot more work than I anticipated. “This is like taking a firehose in the face,” one of my fellow panic-stricken colleagues said. Weeknights and weekends (and, let’s be honest here, workdays) were suddenly consumed with reading, researching, and paper-writing. While it was exciting to engage long-dormant parts of my brain, it was almost paralyzing to realize how much more I was suddenly responsible for. Dreamy took on the brunt of the domestic responsibilities and it is only thanks to him that we somehow survived five months of Utter Nightmare Class. It wasn’t pretty but we slogged through.

Throughout this experience I was on my own a lot, hunkered down at a coffee shop or the library.  And you know what?  I was lonely.

Wait. What?

“I’m an introvert,” I thought to myself. “We don’t get lonely. We LIKE lonely.” But I was, and I didn’t like it at all. Feeling disconnected from one’s husband and kids is terrible and it served to amplify and exacerbate the school stress. When we did spend time together as a family I was bitchy and distracted by ever-present papers and projects. Not pretty, indeed.

We all suffered until I was able lean back (sorry, Sheryl Sandberg) and let go of the need to get perfect grades and to perform perfectly at work. Giving myself permission to not earn a  perfect grade on each and every assignment (hmm, sensing a theme here, are we?) liberated me from my own idiotic false expectations and empowered me to refocus and recommit mental and emotional energy to my family.  And voila – the loneliness vanished.  I still cared about doing well but “A Little Less Than the Best” became my official motto. Releasing those expectations felt wonderful and I regret not doing it much sooner.

Now that the course is mostly finished I have a newfound appreciation for the time I thought I didn’t have before; time which, while enrolled in the class, was necessarily highly structured and managed. I can see now how much time I DO have to devote to the kids or myself or to other things, like the blog or DIY home projects. Having truly free time again is a gift I will do my best not to squander.

Now then. Off to purge and organize the medicine cabinet. Just because I can.

 

Leadership in Lowercase

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KathyAfter the recent brouhaha over Sheryl Sandberg’s Ban Bossy campaign, I looked over the website’s materials for girls, parents, and teachers. There’s a lot of good stuff there, urging girls to speak up about what’s important to them and giving adults strategies for helping them be heard.

I wouldn’t be sorry to see the word bossy fade away. I can see that fear of being called something negative could make some girls reluctant to speak up. But my bigger issue is with a word that’s all over the materials created by Sandberg and the Girl Scouts, who are co-sponsoring the campaign: Leadership.

I haven’t read Sandberg’s book Lean In, but I know she wants more women to hold positions of power in the corporate world. In the “Leadership Tips for Girls” handout on the Ban Bossy website, these numbers are front and center: Women make up just 19% of Congress, 17% of corporate boards, and 5% of Fortune 1,000 CEO positions. I don’t like those numbers any more than she does – I’d love to see women equally represented in government and business.

However. Not everyone wants to be that kind of leader. Obviously those big-ticket positions are not her only goal – there are many possible stepping stones or stopping points, so I’ll say this, too: Not everyone wants to be the director of a library division (a possible career trajectory for me if I hadn’t changed my path). Not everyone wants to be the head room parent for her daughter’s class.

A friend sent me this article from The Atlantic in response to Ban Bossy, which points out (again) that introverts can be excellent leaders, thank you very much. “[S]ome girls prefer to plot their world domination quietly,” notes Olga Khazan.

I agree with her that some tips in the handout for girls seem anti-quiet. #1, Speak Up in Class, with the added instruction of “Avoid editing what you want to say in your head” beforehand. Wha? Thanks for invalidating my entire thinking process.

Others, though, I really like. #7, Trust Your Inner Voice, recommends keeping a journal if you don’t want to share your thoughts out loud. Or #5, Don’t Do Everyone Else’s Work, which is essential for group projects at school but also a good reminder for parents who need to resist picking up everyone else’s dirty socks.

That’s where I think the emphasis on Leadership is missing the mark: these are not leadership tips, they’re life tips. The handout is full of techniques for being true to yourself and navigating relationships. Girls and boys should know this stuff. But I disagree that the logical next step after #3, Challenge Yourself, is Run Something.

Maybe you’d rather make jewelry, or research cures for cancer, or introduce kids to J. K. Rowling, or be the next J. K. Rowling.

Maybe you’d rather blog.

The handout notes that our society hasn’t quite figured out how powerful it wants girls to be. But there’s more than one way to be powerful, and I’m afraid some girls will read these materials and hear “Your way is wrong.” That’s not a message I want to send to my daughter, or to anyone else’s.

— Kathy

When “Being the Change” Doesn’t Feel Like Enough

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KathyToday is Pancake Day, AKA the only day Doodlebug buys lunch at school. I’m fine that she doesn’t buy more often, because as far as I can tell the food her cafeteria serves is not that great. I know some schools in our county are revamping their menus to include fresh, local produce and food that’s prepared on-site, but most of her options seem to be precooked, highly processed food-like-substances. Like, for instance, maple-flavored pancakes that are microwaved in a plastic pouch. Blech.

So I was really interested when I came across info about a new cookbook aimed at school cafeteria workers in this month’s issue of Eating Well magazine. A group called Vermont FEED put together healthy recipes that are popular in school cafeterias, all in big-batch portions so other school cooks can use them too.

For a minute I got all dreamy-eyed, imagining what it would be like if Doodlebug’s cafeteria served things like Mac & Trees (with broccoli – cute!) or Carrot & Quinoa Muffins. Her school is starting a garden this year, maybe some of the plants are vegetables that could be incorporated into the lunch program? I could let the staff know about the cookbook, and maybe…

No. No no no no.

Because I know what happens. The person who suggests a cool new idea also gets put in charge of implementing said idea. I hate gardening, I hate being in charge of things, and I don’t need an extra project in my life right now. I’m barely maintaining a good balance between other people’s demands on my time and my own needs as it is. Step away from the cookbook, introvert!

And I did, but it kind of breaks my heart. There are lots of things like this in my life – things I feel strongly about, things I think I should be advocating for, things I always end up leaving for someone else to take the lead on. If another parent saw this same article and started whipping our school lunches into shape, I’d help. In my small way. But spearheading the entire effort? No way, not me.

I’ve always liked the quote “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” (It’s usually attributed to Gandhi, although he may not have ever said it.) After my momentary flirtation with the cookbook idea, I had to remind myself that my smaller efforts are not worthless. Did I send organic apple slices and yogurt to Brownies last month for snack? Yes. Did I make from-scratch cupcakes with real ingredients for Doodlebug’s class on Valentine’s Day? Yes. Am I voting with my pocketbook by not having her buy lunch in the cafeteria more than once a month? Yes.

Am I worried that that last paragraph is obnoxious? Yes, and I know that’s part of my problem – sometimes I stick with being the change because I don’t want anyone else to feel bad about their choices. (And let me point out that we are definitely not perfect. There are currently five boxes of Girl Scout cookies in our pantry.) But the bigger reason is that I just don’t have the energy or personality for leading a huge project.

Maybe it’s like Susan Cain’s theory about introverts and public speaking – she argues that, once you find Your Topic, the thing you’re truly passionate about, talking about it to big groups becomes easier. Maybe I just haven’t found My Topic yet, the thing I’d be willing to upend my life to advocate for. In the meantime I’ll just be here, packing lunches, typing to other people who (hopefully) understand why I’m not doing more.

— Kathy

To Co-op or Not to Co-op: That is the Question

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’Tis the season… for preschool decisions!

KathyWhen Doodlebug turned two, iDad and I started looking at preschools. Since she’s an only child, we wanted her to have some time with other kids. And, okay fine, having two mornings a week to myself sounded pretty good, too. We went to several open houses, and while Doodlebug tested out playgrounds and did crafts, iDad and I chatted with teachers and listened to presentations about the schools’ philosophies and the role of the parents.

And, because were looking at cooperative preschools, the level of parental involvement was pretty high. Maybe co-ops appealed to my control freak tendencies – being involved in the classroom! Really getting to know the teachers and the other kids! And it certainly helped that the price tag was lower than traditional preschools. As a trade-off, each family at the school we ultimately chose was expected to serve on a committee (fundraising, social, library, etc.) and to spend 6 hours each year on maintenance tasks. Also, about once a month you were required to co-op, which meant joining the two teachers in your child’s classroom for the day.

It was a great school – the staff was warm and positive, the kids were encouraged to choose activities that interested them, there was a whole room devoted to pretend play. And there was a huge emphasis on being outside, even in unpleasant weather, which meant Doodlebug got plenty of mud-puddle time that I didn’t have to directly supervise. But the co-oping. Oh, the co-oping!

Spending three hours in a room with a dozen preschoolers is one of the most draining things I’ve ever done. It’s not that it wasn’t fun – I got to be there for Doodlebug’s birthday celebrations, help make cranberry relish for the Thanksgiving feast, and visit with pet rabbits. But I would come home with a pounding headache and the desire to hide in a dark room for the rest of the day. So if you are considering a co-op preschool for your child, here are some of my survival strategies.

  • If you love a certain school but co-oping sounds like a total nightmare, see if there’s a buyout option. Some schools let parents pay extra tuition in exchange for skipping the co-oping duties. Our school also offered a half buyout, which meant you helped less frequently. (Buyout families still have committee duties and maintenance hours, so it doesn’t mean you’re blowing off your commitment to the school.)
  • Split up the co-oping duties with your spouse if possible. iDad and I did this, and it was so much easier to go into my scheduled day knowing that I had eight weeks to rest up before the next one.
  • Get a good night’s sleep and make sure to hydrate. Not too much, though, because you may not get a bathroom break!
  • Choose your co-op day carefully. Doodlebug’s school offered a few afternoon activities, like lunch bunch and dance. I scheduled my days so that she would be occupied (without me!) for an hour or so afterward. This made my cleanup duties easier and gave me a tiny smidgen of downtime before I needed to pick her up.
  • Do not, I repeat, DO NOT plan anything major for the remainder of a co-op day. This is not the time to go berry-picking or to drag the whole family to the mall for haircuts. If your kid still naps, hallelujah! You have built-in recharging time once you stagger home. If not, maybe you can start a tradition of movie afternoons on co-op days. It’s also an excellent night for ordering pizza. If all else fails, three words: Nutella hot chocolate.

— 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

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