I saw the article in the waiting room while I waited for our doctor to apply another cast on one of my children. (We were regulars there.) The article talked about the perks of being an introvert, and after I took the self-administered test, I realized I was pretty much off the charts.
I wish I had come to this self-knowledge before I had five children.
But I understand it now.
Like when my husband asks where we should go on our date night, and I say, “I want to stay here, but can we send our kids out somewhere else?”
Like when we are at the dinner table, and one little boy is rolling around on the floor like a laughing hyena and my little girl is flushing the toilet with the bathroom door open, and I ask if anybody has seen the Ibuprofen.
Like when all the kids plop near me on the fire place and I just say to them, “Could you guys just not talk for a little while?”
But the irony is that I got the loudest children in the universe. How did this happen?
Is it the pollutants in the air or the red dyes in their Skittles or the extra hormones in their milk or their steady diet of shows like Phineas and Ferb? How did I get so many divas? And why did their packaging not include ear plugs?
Why was I not blessed with boring children? Why do they not like to play with their alphabet puzzle for hours on end or teach themselves to read like I did? Why must they run in halls and slam their heads into door jams? Why aren’t they afraid of trampolines and slides like I was? If they had been, it would have saved us $2000 last year.
And Deborah! My little Deborah! If anyone should have provided balance to the force, it should have been her! But Deborah, while definitely a princess, is not the quiet, dainty one I had been counting on. The year she was born, I wrote about her in our Christmas card: “Unfortunately, the princess was even louder and more boisterous than her brothers. And even though she hadn’t yet learned to walk, the village children said she could slay dragons. Anyone that tried to hold the girl knew this to be true.”
That card is still as real as it was three years ago. But then I read the last part of the card. “However, the local bards sang ballads about a princess who shot an arrow right through her mother’s heart. It helped the queen see the beauty around her, and she no longer wished for another life. At least most of the time. She never did find quiet places to read alone, but she did read stories to her boys. And they gave her plenty of stories to tell.”
So you know what that means. That means I need to keep writing on this silly blog. Because they are giving me plenty of raw material everyday, and if I’m going to put up with some of their stunts, I might as well laugh about it. Hope you can too.
Are you an introvert or an extrovert? What are your kids like?
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