narrating kayoz

Managing the toddler's 'negative' behaviour

I've been re-reading bits of You are your child's first teacher, by Rahima Baldwin Dancy. I have to return it to the library today, but I'll be getting it back because it's full of good reminders and information. It's written by a Steiner teacher, but what I like about it is that it doesn't just rely on Steiner's ideas, it backs them up (and occasionally updates them altogether) with more contemporary research.

This is the sort of book you can just dive into anywhere and find something good. I opened it first (randomly) at a section called 'Dealing with Negative Behaviour' in the chapter on 'Helping Your Toddler's Development'. It starts out "One of the challenges of living with the child from eighteen to thirty-six months is dealing with the 'negativisim' that he manifests. If you can recongnize your child's emerging sense of self and power as something positive, you won't fall into the trap of thinking that you have done something wrong..." (or, I would add, that the child is somehow 'wrong').

She talks about the importance of being loving but firm, providing limits and corrections in calmness (not anger) but with 'absolute certainty' that there is no other choice. She goes on to suggest that you

...set up your house so that the child has the maximum freedom and requires the minimum of no's, and then you are firm about what is not allowed. It is wonderful for your child to be curious, but he doesn't have to play with your makeup, which can be met with a stern no, removing the child from the scene, and then putting the makeup in a less accessible place. There is no need to punish the child, because a toddler is unable to understand what he has done or to remember the next time.

This idea of then making it inaccessible is the key. Why set yourself up for conflict? She goes on (a bit later)

Many two-year-olds hate change and fall apart during transitions between activities. Everything has to be a certain way or pandemonium breaks loose. This doesn't mean you need to give in each time or put up with whiny behaviour, but understanding this aged child's attachment to order can help you avoid problems.

Of course, knowing something is age appropriate and acting that way are two different things. I find it a whole lot easier to accept Kaely's two-year-old age appropriate tantrums than Liam's six-year-old ones - even though I know in my head that his behaviour is just as understandable as hers. Head knowledge doesn't stop me feeling cross about it. But - and this, I think, is the important part of Dancy's comments - knowing what's normal can help you avoid problems, for instance by putting the makeup out of reach, or in the case of transitions by creating set routines and rituals that the children know and even enjoy. She gives an example of a bedtime routine:

One mother I know lights a candle while she sings a song, and then lets the child blow out the match, which is an exciting incentive to get the child to go into the bedroom. Then they go into the bathroom to put on pajamas and brush teeth. The mother has turned off the bedroom light, so when they return, they have to tip toe and be very quiet as they enter the softly lighted room and lie down together for songs and playing the children's harp.

Of course, sometimes it's not that easy:

...sometimes your child will just be negative, and she may astonish you with the force of her refusal...

One of the most effective ways of handling negative behaviour is removing the child from the area of activity. With a young child, this requires going with her and staying with her until she is ready to return. For example, fussiness and throwing food at dinner can be quickly handled by taking her down the hall, telling her what when she is a happy clown the two of you can go back, and then standing there like a stone until she comes around. It usually takes about one to three minutes, because it's very boring being out of the action with a deadpan mother or father who won't interact with your until you're ready to do what is expected.

I'm not sure how I feel about the 'happy clown' idea - do I want to teach my kid that 'happy' is the only acceptable emotion? But the idea that you removed the toddler from the situation, stay with her, and remain impassive - that all makes sense to me. There's no point in getting upset or angry. She's only two after all - but there is a point to firmly enforcing acceptable limits. She needs them enforced in order to learn them.

Oh dear, I'm going to have to take this book back to the library now, and I had so many other bits bookmarked.

Meditations for kids

Following a post from Trish a while ago at Imperfect Parent, I borrowed a book from the library called Meditations for Kids, by Kids. It's not the book Trish was talking about (which was The Wishing Star: Meditations for Children) - they didn't have that one in the library. But I liked the idea of reading a meditation with Liam each night before he went to sleep, so I thought I'd try the one they did have.

It's been a good experience. We've been right through the book once, and are half way through again. Sometimes Chris reads him a meditation after Liam and I have finished our 'book & chat' time and I have gone off to nurse Kaely and put her to bed in our room. Or sometimes if Liam is still awake when I've got Kaely down, I read him one then.

Each of the meditations is written by one of four kids in a family. The youngest was, I think, four at the time of writing (he's only got one or two in there) and the oldest was about ten (she has a lot). They all have the same basic structure - you go into your peaceful garden, hang your worries on the worry tree, take a few deep breaths, let go etc. - and they tend to have lots of comments about being safe and loved.   In the middle of that, some are rather quirky. But all are engaging, as far as Liam is concerned. One includes a dolphin ride into the quiet depths of the water. Another involves Pixies. Many involve friendly talking animals.

At first Liam said he wasn't going to 'do' the meditation, he just wanted to listen. Now he tends to close his eyes as he listens and take the deep breaths when instructed, but he still often bounces up at the end to ask for another one. Recently when he did that I told him the idea was to stay relaxed afterwards and let himself drift off to sleep. I don't know if he took that to heart, because I haven't read him one since then, but last night after our goodnight kiss and cuddle he said "I think I could just lie here and drift off to sleep now," so maybe he did take it in. Either way, I think we'll keep up the habit of bedtime meditations. It's a soothing way to end the day (and lets face it, the pre-bedtime part of the end of the day is usually anything by soothing), and I like the idea of Liam gradually developing the skills of mediation, or at least of relaxation.  It's something we could all do with more of.

Taboos and the trouble with abortion politics

In her book, A feminist account of pregnancy loss in America, Linda Layne talks about the way (wanted) ambryo's have personhood bestowed on them far earlier now than they would have a generation of two ago, when a woman often didn't even go to the doctor until the second missed period. But then, "the very people participating with us in the construction of this new social person - your mother-in-law or your friend or whoever was saying 'Everything you do is important to the health of the baby, every cup of coffee matters' - they suddenly revoke that personhood [when you have a miscarriage]. It's like nothing ever happened."

Peggy Orenstein quotes Layne in her article 'Mourning My Miscarriage' (New York Times Magazine, Apr 21, 2002, p.38-41). She talks about why people often don't talk about their miscarriages, why there is still a taboo. And then she goes on:

But for me, there is another uncomfortable truth: my own pro-abortion-rights politics defy me. Social personhood may be distinct from biological and legal personhood, yet the zing of connection between me and my embryo felt startingly real, and at direct odds with everything I believe about when life begins. Nor have those beliefs - a complicated calculus of science, politics and ethics - changed. I tell myself that this wasn't a person. It wasn't a child. At the same time, I can't deny that it was something. How can I mourn what I don't believe existed? The debate over abortion has become so polarized that exploring such a contradiction feels too risky. In the political discussion, there has been no vocabulary of nuance.

I have more to say about this, but no time to say it. Today is the day my master's project is supposed to be finished. It is basically done, though the essay still needs a significant amount of polish I think. I have the next several nights to get to that, plus to write an abstract and figure out what details need to go on the title page, then the plan is to print, bind and post the whole thing on Friday. That's the plan.

A meme about books

I got this meme from Pavlov's Cat, though I've seen it in at least two places since then..

These are the 106 books most often listed as 'unfinished' on LibraryThing. The rules seem to vary, but I'm going with bolding the ones I've read and underlining the ones I started but didn't finish. I must say it's interesting to me to see how many of the latter are books I was supposed to read for uni.  Hmm... All in my undergrad degree though.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Anna Karenina
Crime and Punishment
Catch-22
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Wuthering Heights
The Silmarillion
Life of Pi : a novel
The Name of the Rose
Don Quixote
Moby Dick
Ulysses
Madame Bovary
The Odyssey
Pride and Prejudice
Jane Eyre
The Tale of Two Cities [I never finished this, but I know it's actually called A Tale of Two Cities]
The Brothers Karamazov
Guns, Germs, and Steel
War and Peace
Vanity Fair
The Time Traveler’s Wife
The Iliad
Emma
The Blind Assassin (but i still have this out from the library, so there's still hope)
The Kite Runner
Mrs. Dalloway
Great Expectations
American Gods
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Atlas Shrugged
Reading Lolita in Tehran : a memoir in books
Memoirs of a Geisha
Middlesex
Quicksilver
Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West
The Canterbury Tales
The Historian : a novel
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Love in the Time of Cholera
Brave New World
The Fountainhead
Foucault’s Pendulum
Middlemarch
Frankenstein
The Count of Monte Cristo
Dracula
A Clockwork Orange
Anansi Boys
The Once and Future King
The Grapes of Wrath
The Poisonwood Bible
1984
Angels & Demons
Inferno
The Satanic Verses
Sense and Sensibility
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Mansfield Park
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
To the Lighthouse
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
Oliver Twist
Gulliver’s Travels
Les Misérables
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Dune
The Prince
The Sound and the Fury
Angela’s Ashes : a memoir
The God of Small Things
A People’s History of the United States : 1492-present
Cryptonomicon
Neverwhere
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Short History of Nearly Everything
Dubliners
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Beloved
Slaughterhouse-five
The Scarlet Letter
Eats, Shoots & Leaves
The Mists of Avalon
Oryx and Crake
Collapse : how societies choose to fail or succeed
Cloud Atlas
The Confusion
Lolita
Persuasion
Northanger Abbey
The Catcher in the Rye
On the Road
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Freakonomics : a rogue economist explores the hidden side of everything
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance : an inquiry into values
The Aeneid
Watership Down
Gravity’s Rainbow
The Hobbit
In Cold Blood : a true account of a multiple murder and its consequences
White Teeth
Treasure Island
David Copperfield

Writing in the dark

In one of the novels I have just read for uni, Diane Blacklock's Almost Perfect, (yes, another infertility narrative, although the back cover description - romantic comedy - is really more on the mark), one of the minor characters claims that it's good for him to write in the back room of his house, because if his study had a view he would never get any work done.

The character to whom he's speaking (a newly wannabe writer who appears to be a 'natural') feels differently and spends some time making her writing space just right. Until she realises she's procrastinating and just starts writing.

I get both points of view, but I have to say: on gorgeous days like today, I think I would find it easier to settle in to work if I at least had some sunlight in my 'office'.  Because quite frankly, without it, I'd rather be outside.

On the other hand with the runny, irritated nose and eyes I have at the moment, the glare outside would probably blind me. Maybe I should stop making excuses and just get to work. But honestly, after three cups of caffeinated coffee (for someone who usually sticks to decaf tea), that's easier written than achieved.

Nonsexist books - where they succeed and where they don't.

In "Learning to Be Little Women and Little Men: The Inequitable Gender Equality of Nonsexist Children's Literature," Amanda B. Dickman and Sara K. Murnen found that "Nonsexist books succeeded in portraying female characters as adopting the characteristics and roles identified with the masculine gender role, but they did not portray male characters as adopting aspects of the feminine gender role or female characters as shedding the feminine gender role" (381).

(Lisa Rowe Fraustino, 'The Berenstain Bears and the Reproduction of Mothering' The Lion and the Unicorn, 31.3 (2007), 250-263, p. 257)

I'm sure I've said this before, but there's no harm in repeating myself - any recommendations of children's books that succeed in doing any of the above (better yet all, but as the authors note, that is rare), I am all ears.

 

Inconceivable

I'm now reading Inconceivable (Ben Elton), and while it too has it's annoyances (seriously, are there still women who think if their partner is attracted to someone else that he (or she) is effectively being unfaithful to her? Or that enjoying a spot of "choke the monkey" (his term) on his own is somehow evidence of him not being attracted to her any more? This is the Noughties for heaven's sake!), it's only taken to page 69 to have me laughing till I cried, a very good sign for a comedy.

More on the Panayotov book

I finally finished In Vitro Fertility Goddess. By the end, it finally got me in.

I assume it’s doing fairly well (here in Oz anyway), judging by the amount of publicity it seems to have had, so I wish they’d put out a revised edition – one that’s been professionally edited. Because as Leslie Cannold said, it could be a lot more readable with some editing out of repetition, and (I say) the addition of a few more pronouns and articles.

One of Sol Stein’s “little things that damage the writer’s authority” is glitches that yank the reader out of their experience. That’s what all those missing pronouns etc were for me. Leaving out a few gives an impression. Doing it all the time got annoying (quickly), as I had to keep re-reading sentences to get the meaning.

As regards the content of the book, the only part I found really got me in was the last bit when she was finally pregnant. Despite the subchorionic hematoma that had her bleeding on and off, and therefore worrying constantly, for most of the first trimester, and the placenta previa and its accompanying complications later, it made me want to be pregnant again, or more particularly, it made me want to give birth to a tiny new baby again. Also this was the part of the book where I finally laughed. Twice, even.

I can see how this part of the book might be the most annoying part to people currently experiencing infertility though. Although she suffers miscarriages and took a long time to finally achieve a sustained pregnancy, Panayotov was quickly successful once she turned to IVF. That makes her unusual, despite the cultural image we have of IVF being the quick solution to infertility. Most of the time its not. And that’s another annoyance – that the book perpetuates that stereotype – though one can hardly fault Panayotov for not faking a few unsuccessful cycles for the sake of a counter-narrative.

I don’t know if it’s the fact that I have been pregnant, while I haven’t suffered from sustained infertility,* that makes the last part of the book more palatable to me. I suspect it might be as much to do with the fact that it lacks the over-the-top contempt towards pregnant women and mothers, and indeed women in general, that in the rest of the book becomes boringly repetitious at best and quite offensive at worst. It is the sort of comedy that depends on belittling and stereotyping – not uncommon, but not to my taste.

It also probably has to do with the fact that the reader knows from the start that Panayotov ends up with a baby. At least you do if you’ve ever heard her interviewed or just read the back of the book. And it’s pretty clear from the title just how she achieves that pregnancy. So there’s no page turning motivation early on in the book. It’s only once she safely pregnant, following an embryo transfer, that I started to be really interested in the outcome – how will the pregnancy go, what sort of birth will she end up with? Perhaps it’s also that at this point she starts treating other characters with some empathy instead of as cardboard cutouts put there to annoy her.

In any case, I did eventually come to care about Panayotov’s story, but it took a good while. The obsessive insanity aspect of the infertility narrative is probably something a lot of women can relate too, although I think they might relate more if it were toned down some. And of course the outcome – a healthy baby at the end – could be hopeful and inspiring to those setting out on a similar journey. But for those four years into IVF with no baby in sight (or even with a baby, but only after several years and as many egg collections), it could be downright galling.

___________
*We had only just begun serious investigation – ie going beyond what my GP could do – when I fell pregnant with Mikaela.

Lochie and Jodi Panayotov (not related to one another I hope)

It's official. We're getting a dog. Today. In about two and a half hours from now, Chris will be bringing home Lochie, who is about to become a part of our family. I wonder what Thea (our cat) will think? I don't imagine she'll be impressed, but hopefully she'll adjust. She's a mostly indoor cat, and he'll be a mostly outdoor dog. I wonder what he'll think of the chooks? Hopefully he'll scare off any foxes that might have been eyeing them off.

I have to admit it's still feeling all a bit bizarre to me. I've never had a dog, so to suddenly have a fully grown, large, enthusiastic Labrador does feel a little overwhelming. Still, he seems like a lovely fellow, and Mikaela (who came with us to meet him this morning) seemed quite impressed, although not so keen on the licking he tried to give her face. Still, she coped okay with that.

Liam was not keen on the idea when we first mentioned it on Saturday, but after we looked at some pics of a black Labrador on the web, and he saw a real one ("and it was alive") at the park yesterday, he changed his mind. He does like dogs, but he'd probably prefer a smaller one. He'd probably prefer a puppy, but frankly, I would not. No way.

Lochie is unfortunately not so good with the training, but he's okay with sit and drop, though not perfect. Chris (who's going to be the one primarily responsible for him, just like I am with the chickidees, but with a bit more effort for him) will have to work on that. His current owner said she never lets him off the lead when they are out for a walk because he just runs off, which is a shame because there are 'off the lead' areas just near us (five minutes walk) where he would no doubt have fun chasing a ball. So Chris will be working on that too. Any book recommendations on dog training much appreciated. Chris has had dogs before, but not as an adult.

In other news, what I should be doing right now is studying, but am trying to read Jodi Panayotov's book*, and am finding it rather irritating. First thought this was due to own fertile mertil selfishness (after all, only took 17 cycles and one miscarriage to conceive Mikaela so am obviously smug mother, completely oblivious to pain of others' infertility), but then realised was due to absence of pronouns, possessive adjectives and articles (definite or otherwise). Could be content also annoying me, plus putting to sleep. Though that could be fault of own sleep deprivation.

The review I linked to (which I have only just now read) suggests that the book's faults are largely not Panayotov's fault, as they are issues which a professional editor would/should have helped her deal with. Fair enough, and yes it sux that publishers don't provide that nurturing to new authors any more, but still, the fact remains that I'm finding the book a trifle hard to get through, and not "at times laugh out loud funny" at all. On the other hand if it helps to raise the issues associated with infertility and reduce the 'taboo-ness' of such openness (especially about pregnancy-loss), then it's doing something valuable. I'm just not sure many people who hadn't already lived in that world would be interested in slogging through it.

[edited to add:] On yet another hand, I've just read an article by Ms Panayotov in The Australian, which comes off rather better than the book does. I like her last line: You see, when people speak of infertility, nobody mentions that it has an insanity clause.

__________

*BTW, the book is called  In Vitro Fertility Goddess

feminist thoughts on motherhood: a drama in three parts

Often, though not always, the story of feminists thinking about motherhood since the early 1960s is told as a drama in three acts: repudiation, recuperation, and, in the latest and most difficult stage to conceptualize, an emerging critique of recuperation that co-exists with ongoing efforts to deploy recuperative strategies.
(Hansen, ibid, p. 5)

This comes, of course, from a book published in 1997, a decade ago now. Any suggestions for movement beyond this point, or are we still there?

Also she observes in a note that

Simons, among others, argues that the gap between between feminist repudiation and recuperation of motherhood is less "absolute" than it is sometimes said to be, and she discusses the possibility of a more "integrative feminist resolution" of this opposition.
(p. 240, referring to Margaret A. Simons, "Motherhood, Feminism, and Identity" in Hypatia Reborn: Essays in Feminism Philosophy, ed Azizah Y. Al-Hibri and Simons, 1990.)

'This isn't the way I'm meant to be'

Look in the mirror. (As women do: self as object.) Good bones, don't smoke cigarettes, don't drink much, get lots of rest, eat well, do yoga, go for walks, it all helps, it doesn't help. I thought something would stop this from happening, it wouldn't happen to me. I'm not even meant to this this til I'm 39. You get to an age and you think it was meant to be better than this. This isn't the way I'm meant to be. I'm meant to be younger, and richer.
(from Inex Baranay, 1988, 'Living alone: The New Spinster (Some Notes)', quoted in Hazel Smith, The Writing Experiment (etc) p. 198.)

At some point I swear I will get back to writing actual posts, instead of just typing out quotes. But not today.

Feminisim's 'dilemma of difference'

['The dilemma of difference'] refers to the way in which feminism and feminist theory must deny of disavow women's difference, and differences among women, in order to argue for women's equality and to mobilize women women as a group, but must also rely on the concept of difference to analyze the specificity of women's situations and experiences and to theorize differences among women. ...

By insisting on women's difference, for instance in analyzing women's situations and experience of mothering and their effects on consciousness and social relations, difference feminism jeopardizes feminism's claim to women's equal human subjectivity. On the other hand, the possible benefits for feminism and feminist theory of taking these risks of difference are also considerable. These benefits include the rearticulation of understandings of mothering that more adequately conceptualize mothering, more strenuously challenge individualism, and thus more strongly support the changes in the social organisation of mothering that feminism advocates. The difficulty for feminist theory is that, in an individualist ideological context, the subversive and liberatory possibilities of accounts of mothering that challenge individualism in terms of difference are never far removed from the risks of reconsolidating elements of essential motherhood that occur in the project of theorising motherhood.   
(Patrice DiQuinzio, The Impossibility of Motherhood, as previously cited, pp. xv-xvi.)

In other words, if we talk about how women, and their experience as mothers, are different to (say, for instance) men, then we set ourselves up for all the old sexist arguments about women's place (barefoot, pregnant, in the kitchen etc). But if we don't, then we can't adequately theorise mothering at all, and also, for instance, can't challenge (western, capitalist) individualism in terms of its emphasis on subjectivity in traditionally 'masculine' terms. It's tricky.

Variety in mothering

"Many mothers report that mothering is a deeply ambivalent experience in which, at one time or another, they feel exaltation, despair, and many other emotions in between." (Patrice DiQuinzio, The Impossibility of Motherhood: feminism, individualism, and the problem of mothering, Routledge, New York, 1999, p. viii.)

Realism is reassuring

The experience of reading a realistic text is ultimately reassuring, however harrowing the events of the story, because the world evoked in the fiction, in patterns of cause and effect, of social relationships and moral values, largely confirm the patterns of the world we seems to know.
(Catherine Belsey, Critical Practice, 2nd edn, Routlegde, London, 2002, quoted in Hazel Smith, The Writing Experiment, Allen and Unwin, Crows Nest, 2005, pp. 28-29.)

The practice of writing

Another quote from Woolf, but from yesterday's reading.

But what is more to the point is my belief that the habit of writing thus for my own eye only is good practice. It loosens the ligaments. Never mind the misses and stumbles. Going at such a pace as I do I must make the most direct and instant shots as my object, and thus have to lay hands on words, choose them and shoot them with no more pause than is needed to put my pen in the ink. I believe that during the past year I can trace some increase of ease in my professional writing which I attribute to my casual half hours after tea. (Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, New York, 1954, p. 13.)

This reminds me of a debate that occurred in the blogosphere (only I think it was before the term blogosphere was coined) a few years back, about whether slapdash blog/online journal writing was of any benefit to 'wannabe' writers. I remember there was some high feeling and in fact no little acrimony around the issue.

Each (writing) morning before I start the real work, but after I read VW, I spend some time 'free writing', which sometimes (like today) I turn into a blog post. Sometimes it just serves to warm up my fingers. Other times something really useful comes out. Either way I like it.

The (would-be) writing life...

I am sitting in my dark part-time study, having just come in out of the sun where I was reading Virginia Woolf’s diary. I am reading a few pages of A Writer’s Diary (extracts from her diary published by Leonard Woolf a decade or so after her death) each day before I begin work (each Sunday/Monday that is!). It was tempting to stay out there and keep reading, but my point for the day is really writing, which I can do most effectively sitting in front of the computer. Besides, I wanted to record something she wrote in May 1920:

It is worth mentioning, for future reference that the creative power which bubbles so pleasantly in beginning  a new book quiets down after a time, and one goes on more steadily. Doubts creep in. Then one becomes resigned. Determination not to give in, and the sense of an impending shape keep one at it more than anything. I’m a little anxious. How am I to bring off this conception? Directly one gets to work one is like a person walking, who has seen the country stretching out before. I want to write nothing in this book that I don’t enjoy writing. Yet writing is always difficult. (Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, New York, 1954, p. 25.)

Leonard Woolf comments in the preface that one must keep in mind at all times that this is only “a very small portion” of her diary, and does not constitute the entirety of her thoughts. Otherwise “the book will give a very distorted view of her life and her character” (p.ix). I mention this, because as I am reading there is a part of me wishing to have what she seems to have – so much time to focus on writing. I know she didn't have children, but indeed the entries in this diary are often weeks apart – indicating, presumably, weeks when her diary consisted only of non-writing related observations. And even within this extract she remarks that her time for writing has not been hers at all (evidence by the fact that she has hardly done reading outside her review books). Of course, my reading is also inevitably coloured by knowledge of her suicide two decades later. It’s hard to be jealous of that!

Last week I had an email from a (single, childless) old school friend who is currently in Berlin, having (by the sounds of things) the time of her life. She is there for (I think) about six weeks, following which she is heading to France to visit some friends there, and “then on”. I could hardly read her lovely email without feeling jealous as hell. I think she is living the life I want!

But actually, she’s not. I love my husband and my children and even my house, despite the mortgage. When I first bought a house I was 22*, and more than one person commented that I was the last person they expected to ‘settle down’. I wasn’t settling down, I replied, I was merely committing to live in the one place for a year or so, after which I could rent it out and head back overseas if I felt like it. Up to that point I had cultivated a footloose image - which I believed in myself and which fit beautifully with my star sign. I was carefree and adaptable, ready to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice. (According to this site, for instance, Sagittarian likes include travelling and freedom, while dislikes include being tied down, being constrained, being bothered with details). Then I met Chris, whose star sign makes him out to be a homebody (“It is a fundamentally conservative and home-loving nature, appreciating the nest like quality of a secure base” ). You’d think we’d be at odds (if you believe in that sort of thing). But actually, as much as the idea of being able to take off to Berlin appeals, I’m honestly just as much of a homebody as Chris is. Maybe more.

Sure, I have a constant conflict between my role as a mother and my role as a writer, but is there any other option? The fact is, I’m living the life I want. Except for the lack of a rich sponsor of course.

____

*The housing market had just crashed and it was basically cheaper to buy than to rent, once you get past the start-up expenses which I borrowed from my mother, and paid back in dribs and drabs over the next several years. The house I bought then would now be worth over three times what I paid for it.

Liam the "moving, running, climbing and jumping" extrovert

Liam's been showing signs of his extroversion practically since the day he was born, but Chris and I have always wondered if he was just less introverted than us. Could we really have produced an extroverted child?

Well. I've been reading Nurture by Nature (Paul D. Tieger, Barbara Barron-Tieger, & E. Michael Ellovich), a book about figuring out your child's temperament and Myers-Briggs 'types', lent to me by a counselor friend. And yeah. It's pretty clear that he's an extrovert in Myers-Briggs terms. In fact, we're pretty sure he's an 'ENTP' - Extroverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Perceiving*. That makes him the first extrovert in three generations of my family (not counting cousins, and maybe an uncle). No wonder we find him exhausting!

Like the reading I've done on age appropriate behaviours, I find this so useful because it helps me to figure out when my irritation with his behaviour is an appropriate response and when I just need to suck it up.

Let me quote some bits of the ENTP profile:

"ENTP's are typically very active and excitable children. They become more wound up when people come to visit, and appear to get an adrenaline rush from being with others..."

You don't say? We always say all it takes to get Liam completely hyper is for one of his grandparents to enter the room.

And then this is really the money statement from my point of view:

"While ENTP [preschoolers] are exciting and stimulating children... because they grow bored quickly, they are rarely happy to play alone for any extended period of time. When they're awake, they seek constant interaction and engagement. [Uh huh.] They may talk so much, and so loudly, that it can sometimes feel like just too much of a good thing. [Oh god yes.] Because ENTPs think out loud, they can't help but interrupt adults to ask the many questions or make the numerous comments that just pop into their heads. They learn by experience and gentle guidance the subtleties of polite conversation. Their minds work so quickly that being asked or forced to wait their turn to speak often makes them forget what they were going to say. This can make them very frustrated, angry and tearful. Patience is definitely a learned skill for ENTPs."

Oh yeah. Introverted types (me, Chris, Mum, Dad, my step-dad, Chris's dad, my sister and my brother, to name a few), tend to think things through before they are willing to speak. Not all the time, or always completely, but as a generalisation. Extroverted types have trouble thinking without speaking.** Poor Liam. There we are, having adult conversation and not wanting to deal with his interruptions, and there he is, desperate to be interacting, and virtually unable to think without simultaneously speaking.

I like the description in the book of an extroverted girl who was having trouble (ie was disruptive) in school. Her parents suggested that she be paired with a friend to complete her desk work, which made it much easier for her to cope with sitting (relatively) quietly. While of course she would have to learn self-control in these situations, they pointed out the difficulty for her of learning "the life skill of self control" and the class room curriculum at the same time.

And then there's this:

"Because ENTPs are such brave explorers, they are just not very interested in rules or structure that seek to limit or restrict them... ENTPs are also not as motivated as other types to comply with orders simply because they are told to or in order to please their parents or other adults."

Damn. I guess that explains why we always seem to miss out on the developmental stages where the books say kids become so much easier to handle because they start to focus on pleasing their parents (notably ages three and five***).

And reading the section on Perceiving children vs judging children was an eye-opener.

Perceiving children tend to have a stretchy sense of time, get sidetracked in the middle of tasks (or before they start them), and often beg for 'one more minute'. And unlike Judging children, who like structure and rules, "Perceiving children tend to live life in resistance to limits. They are constantly pushing the edges of acceptable behaviour, incessantly questioning the reason for rules..." This is all Liam to a T. We find it so frustrating when it takes him half an hour to still not get his PJs on because of all the distractions he finds along the way, and we're both Ps ourselves. Imagine how hard it would be if we were Js!

These also sound familiar:

"Emotionally, ENTP preschoolers tend to get angry more than they get their feelings hurt." Yep.

"ENTP [preschoolers] often use adult or complex speech, sounding more grown-up or sophisticated than their years... Most ENTP toddlers love being read to... and may ask to hear the same story, or particularly dramatic parts of their favourite stories, again and again."

"They like being busy and outdoors and are rarely afraid of getting dirty..."

Uh huh. And finally:

"ENTPs usually need to be moving, running, climbing and jumping at all times. Most would be happy to have a continuous stream of friends and may be happiest with several children around at once."

Oh yeah, that's our Liam.

_____________
*This makes him 3 out of 4 the same as Chris (who's an INTP) and two the same as me (INFP). Though actually we're not 100% sure of the T-F continuum yet, I think that'll become clearer as he gets older - but I think what'll become clearer is that he's a T.

**Edited to add: I should say that I'm sure grown up extroverted types have learned to think without speaking as necessary, but for small people it's hard to have to keep it in.

***Although one of the good things about five has been that he now will sit for quite a while most mornings looking at books all by himself, before we get up, or while we're showering etc. I really can't express how lovely this development is!

Narrating lives

One of the key functions of master narratives is that they offer people a way of identifying what is assumed to be a normative experience. In this way, such storylines serve as a blueprint for all stories; they become the vehicle through which we comprehend not only the stories of others, but crucially of ourselves as well. ...  How can we make sense of ourselves, and our lives, if the shape of our life story looks deviant compared to the regular lines of the dominant stories?
  Molly Andrews in Considering Counter-Narratives: Narrating, resisting, making sense, edited by Michael Bamberg and Molly Andrews

Splintered selves

What is the point of changing the subject position in this way? Most significantly it explodes, at a fundamental and grammatical level, the idea of an unproblematic, unified self. It emphasises that we all consist of split, or even splintered, selves.
       Hazel Smith, The Writing Experiment, Allen and Unwin, Crows Nest, 2005, p. 93.

Note to self: this could be a useful idea in writing this motherhood piece I am working on.

Deathly Hallows

The next Harry Potter book is due to be published on Chris's birthday. I think we'll still wait to buy it in paperback though...