Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
I have been reading an amazing book , Raising Your Spirited Child, to better understand and parent my daughter. She is incredible, brilliant, funny, sweet, and more sensitive, more dramatic, more aggressive and sometimes more overwhelming than most people know. Life with her is a constant roller coaster of highs and serious lows. She is not autistic or ADHD, but very spirited. This will serve her well as an adult, but I need to know how to get her there with our relationship still intact. For more info about spirited children, read the inside excerpts on Amazon and you will get a good picture of what I mean.
This post isn't about her though, it is about me. The act of discovering my daughter's personality traits and needs has let me see my own more clearly. Needless to say, I am spirited. Not to the extremes my girl is, but in some ways we are so similar. I couldn't see through my frustration to recognize that. This is an ongoing process and I am just now scratching the surface. I need to share one trait that she and I both share, one that now makes sense of much of my life.
I am an introvert. I am classified as an INFJ on the Myers-Briggs. This lands me in a small percentage (1-3%) of the population. So, yeah, I feel a little misunderstood most of the time. One of the most taxing encounters with others has always been when extroverted people ask me a question, which I take a moment to think of a succinct answer to, and they misinterpret my pause as ignorance, hearing problems, or confusion. These people then immediately ask again or jump to the conclusion that I have nothing to say. This usually happens in the span of 2.5 seconds by the way. The author, Mary Sheedy Kurcinka, notes that introverts like to reflect before they answer and extroverts need an immediate response. This leads to frustration for both.
This also opens my eyes to many of my familial relationships. Certain people in my life always ask me a question, only to ask another as I am opening my mouth to respond to the first, which causes me to back track mentally, revise verbally, and stutter a response to which this person then tries to finish the thought for me to fill in the gaps... but they are never right about what they think I was going to say. I am left exhausted, cranky, and never did get to give my brilliant minimal response. I often wish I could say to these people, "I will tell you the secret to the darned universe if you would just shut up and listen." Extroverts like this are terrified of a pause in conversation like I am of heights. Didn't know that either did ya?
Thanks for reading my self analysis if you have gotten this far. The book is a wonderful resource for understanding all of your relationships, not just for those with children. I suspect many people will benefit from the information and be able to apply the dynamics to their lives. This is only one tiny example of a huge frustration I have had since childhood. Now I am better equipped to catch myself before I fall prey to frustration and evasion. Just remember the next time you ask a question to actually listen (mouth closed- ears open) and you may be pleasantly surprised by the response.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Norwegian Sweet Baby Cap by Gro
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
I am in need of your assistance fair reader. I am suddenly surrounded by pregnant women. All of the knitters out there know what I mean by saying the sight of a swollen belly makes my hands ache to knit the perfect sweet item that the baby growing in there just has to have to protect it from the cruel elements here on the outside. Resistance is futile; wee knits will be made. But, what items do new moms actually use? I love knit booties, but do they stay on? Probably not. Anyway, here is where you come in. Please take a moment to answer my poll. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. Do it for the children.
Friday, April 11, 2008
These are my side project since I am also working diligently on the Pi shawl. The yarn is Woodland Gnome dyed by Ashley of Enchanted Yarn and Fiber. I am going to love this pair to pieces, I can already tell.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
We are home, but I seem to have left my heart in New Orleans. I've been struggling with how to sum up my trip because, like this incredible city, there are simply too many layers to my journey to fit neatly in one post. The weather was rainy and cool on Friday night, perfect for a stroll through the French Quarter since it kept the drunk kids inside the bars. Heads up to my frat boy readers: y'all are a foolish mess.
Contrary to popular belief, I do not melt when rained on, and enjoyed the walking, sipping, and ducking into this place and that to chat with the servers. I did not meet one stranger. I also did not meet an entree or snack I could pass up and consequently do not fit into my pants now. Normally, while walking through busy cities, I put on my " I may be half your size, but I dare you to cross me" scowl, but here, I started smiling at some point and just couldn't stop.
When in the Quarter, park yourself in front of these people, toss all the bills in your pocket in their crate, and enjoy every note they play for you. Tired of the Quarter? Wander up to Poydras and go into Mother's, across from the W hotel. Order a cup of gumbo and an oyster po-boy. Heaven. Add three dashes of Tabasco and you will actually hear angels singing on high.
Searching for live jazz on Saturday night, I braved walking up stream on Bourbon Street, dodging the inebriated hordes like Dante struggling through the tormented souls to find Beatrice. I found her. She was, for me, a table against the stage at Preservation Hall. The music was incredible; the experience was unforgettable. I also find it fitting that the gentleman dressed in white, who waved me over and led me through the door, happened to be standing under the St. Peter street sign just when I thought my mission was hopeless. New Orleans is brimming with hospitality and hope. And strong coffee. Trust me, you'll need it.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
I've been thinking of my freedom. The larger political reference is something we take for granted and is an interesting topic, but I have been thinking about the smaller sphere, the intimate relationship I have with freedom.
I am not surprised the earliest known written word is a Sumerian cuneiform representing the word freedom. The concept sits snugly at the center of all philosophy. Every day I make a million tiny decisions, good and bad, that are all based on my personal freedom to do so. I can choose to not lose my temper, to roll with the punches, to lavish attention on someone, or even to walk away from it all. I know that I could never be happy if not given the space to freely be myself and I am grateful that I am loved by a few people for exactly who I am, even when that isn't easy. I just need to remember not to take that for granted.
I've changed my mind about the woodland shawl. I started wondering if I would ever wear it. I really choose simple clothing over lacy, so I turned to the queen of simple knits, Elizabeth Zimmermann. She never steers you wrong. Her circular shawl, based on the mathematical equation Pi, is my April Project Spectrum knit.