E-I-E-I oh REALLY?

One of the sessions at our recent company retreat was led by a psychologist who teaches firms how to improve their internal communications through Jungian typing. In the weeks leading up to the seminar we all had to take the Myers-Briggs assessment. I have been typed before and have always been an INFJ. The letters represent different personality aspects, but the pertinent letter to this discussion is the first one—the “I”. It stands for “introvert”. No surprise there.

So imagine my shock when I opened the sealed envelope (our test results were kept secret until a pivotal point in the seminar) and discovered that I tested as an ENFJ. The results were presented on a continuum, so I could see that I was just barely in “E” territory. But still, an “E”? Ridiculous! How dare some stupid test try and tell me that I’m extroverted, even a little bit!

I was outraged.

My coworker (who scored solidly in the “I” range) started giving me a hard time because I was so annoyed. And it was kind of funny, that such a dumb thing like that would set me off. I guess I have always always imagined myself as the brooding, observant, artistic type who always has her nose in a book. And while that is true to some extent, if I’m willing to be open-minded about things I suppose I have become more social in the last few years. More open, less internal. Don’t get me wrong—you will never find me chatting up strangers at a party. But I do manage to put myself out there more than I used to.

Still. An “E”? I happen to love people who are extroverted because it’s less work to be around them. They tend to be of the energetic, get-things-done variety, and I appreciate that. But I just don’t see myself in that category.

It felt like a good time to take advantage of the fact that Jim and I work together. During a break I stalked over to him and yelled “I’m an ‘E’!” pointing furiously at the manilla envelope. He was amused. It turns out that he is an INTP. So . . . pretty much my polar opposite. I grabbed his report and he started to read mine. The descriptions were very thorough, and I have to admit it felt a bit like we were getting away with something: free marriage counseling. “So THAT’S why you drive me crazy sometimes,” I muttered, reviewing our “P” vs. “J” scores.

I’m still coming to terms with my E-ness. I have to believe I will never venture into deep “E” territory, but I guess I’m willing to admit—if not embrace—the fact that I have more social skills than I’ve given myself credit for in the past.

And now I’m extra curious to see how Max’s personality develops. I’ve always assumed that any child of ours would have be introverted, but who knows? I also thought he’d end up with brown eyes and I was wrong about that. Is it possible for an “I” and an “I”-leaning “E” to have an “E”? At the moment the little man is pretty quiet and dreamy. He’s quick to laugh, but will also spend a good chunk of time concentrating on a single toy or intently studying a book. So I think “I” is a safe bet. Not that I’m biased. Ahem.

Of Wrenches and Rolls

Being back at work feels very odd. It’s hard not to be completely distracted, and I’m sure the sleep deprivation isn’t helping. We’re still in the process of trying to figure out our morning routine, but for the most part Jim and I have managed to get Max to daycare and ourselves to work by 8 am. Probably my greatest challenge has come from pumping at the office. I’ll spare you the gory details of that embarrassing and logistically annoying task, but I will say this: if you see a closed office door it’s best to knock and wait for a response BEFORE opening it, instead of knocking and opening the door at the same time. Otherwise you might be greeted by a sight best avoided.

It’s obviously tough being away from the little guy, but I do enjoy the satisfaction that comes from being able to complete tasks successfully. Between the laundry and general cleaning/maintenance, life at home was starting to feel strangely Sisyphusian. And I find that now I have a greater appreciation for the time Max and I spend together. I don’t take it for granted.

But back to the office. There I was on my first morning back, muddling through piles of emails and old projects when a big wrench got thrown into the system. I got a call from another daycare center that I visited back in the fall. The director informed me that they had a spot for Max, a good three months before they thought they might. So we had to make the quick decision to transition Max from his current daycare to the new facility. It’s a far smaller, and the caregiver to infant ratio is 4:1 (at most) compared to 5:1 at his current daycare. In addition, there is a nice outside area for the babies, and once he starts eating real food he’ll be able to take advantage of the amazing meal program. There is a staff cook who makes everything from scratch, and use mostly organic fruits and vegetables and whole grains, while avoiding processed sugar or preservatives. Quite honestly, we’ll have to step it up a notch at home since secreting Girl Scout cookies in an upstairs closet would probably be considered hypocritical.

So yesterday I had to tell the director of Max’s current daycare facility that he would be leaving. I had been dreading the conversation because all his teachers have been so nice, and the last thing I would want is for them to think they did something wrong. It’s just that I think he’ll do better in a more personalized setting. Anyway, all my anxiety was wasted effort—the director was very understanding and I left feeling confident that no feelings would be hurt and no bridges would be burned. Of course, just to ensure that fact I will bring delicious treats for everyone on Monday.

In other Max news, the big guy rolled over this morning. It wasn’t a seamless motion, but it was a roll-over nonetheless. I’m pretty sure his deep-seated hated of tummy time was the primary factor, but I’m going with the philosophy that results are more important than motivation.

Here he is. Not at his most photogenic, but it’s the thought that counts.

Looming

I can’t believe my maternity leave is almost over. We’ll be easing Max into daycare staring on Monday, and Thursday the 17th will be my first day back at the office. I’m alternating between panic and denial, but doing my best to remain clear-headed about the situation and not catastrophize. As of today I have only been away from Max on three occasions, and never for longer than three hours. Somehow I have the feeling that he will do far better with the transition than I will.

Early

It’s 5:45 am and I can’t sleep. I’ve been up since 4:30 or so, surfing the web. But now I’m getting bored and am just counting the minutes until Jim wakes up and I can start banging around in the kitchen without fear of disturbing the household. We have some frozen cookies that I want to throw in the oven so I can clear out a little more space in the ‘fridge. I have a feeling my mom will be making/freezing food while she’s here and our freezer space is smallish at best. I wonder if I’m the only person in the world who starts thinks about baking cookies before the sun rises. Hmmmm.

I’m not sure why I couldn’t fall back to sleep, but I strongly suspect anxiety about what lies ahead. I’m not actively freaking out, but obviously it’s weighing on my mind. I remember how I felt after my surgery 2 years ago, and I know the c-section will be more involved and the recovery longer and more painful. Not to mention there will be a BABY this time. I know I sound like a broken record, but I still can’t wrap my head around that aspect of things.

I think I’m also a little keyed up about this weekend because Jim and I are actually going to be able to spend some time together, which hasn’t happened in a while. I’m looking forward to it. He’s been working like a fiend, trying to wrap up a big project before Max arrives. I keep wondering what would have happened if the little guy came early, but luckily that was not the case. I managed to get MOST of my work tied up before I left, but I still had to leave some things unfinished, which was annoying. I hate feeling like things are up in the air, and I know my coworker will have enough to deal with while I’m gone.

My parents arrive tomorrow and I’m looking forward to showing them the nursery and wrapping up a few last minute errands before the big day. I’m so glad they are going to be here to celebrate the arrival.

I hear rustling upstairs so I guess I’ll go deal with the dogs. They can never sleep past 6 am, even on the weekends. Silly mutts. Though I guess if I had a metabolism like that I’d want to get up and eat too.

Charlie Brown no more?

For the past few years I’ve taken to calling myself “Charlie Brown”. You know, he of the black cloud and general downtrodden nature. To say I’ve been unlucky would be a gross understatement. I won’t create a laundry list of the ways in which I’ve been wronged (at least not today), but suffice it to say if something COULD get screwed up, it did.

Oddly, things seem to have taken a turn for the better. And yes, I just knocked on my desk when I typed that. I should probably knock on something larger to make SURE I haven’t jinxed myself. Something a bit beefier, like a mountain chalet. Or a pirate ship. Unfortunately, neither of those things are handy at the moment. So I’ll just have to hope for the best. So don’t screw me over, desk!

I’m not saying that EVERYTHING has been perfect. As I mentioned, we had to put Maggie down a few weeks ago and there have been minor things here and there. For example, our less-than-five-year-old washer broke last week and we had to replace it to the tune of $700. But IN GENERAL things have been going well. Scarily well.

1. Bye bye chemo
My dad just completed his last treatment. I can’t express the relief I feel. And I won’t even venture a guess as to how my dad feels about the situation. He has been through so much. There is no cure for his cancer (his prostate cancer metastasized into bone cancer) but making it through chemo means his life-span will be longer and he will have less pain. The most amazing part is that the man hasn’t complained once. If it were me I’d be bitching it up. But he’s so damn optimistic, and I find it insanely inspiring.

2. New job, new outlook
Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to work with genial, logically inclined people? Don’t get me wrong, there was something a bit addictive about the non-stop drama at my last job. But now I realize how much it sapped my energy, and how time and effort I spent complaining endlessly about various injustices. Now I’m a pretty happy person in general, and Jim is thrilled to be spared a nightly diatribe about how this person did a crazy thing and that person is a jerk, etc. etc.

3. The lion cut
Our cat Beast isn’t the cuddliest of creatures. Some might call him difficult. Or grouchy. Or just damn lucky that he ended up in our family and not somewhere else where people don’t put up with feisty scratching and advanced experiments in fang/hand interactions. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a cute cat. Deceivingly so. And he seems to get along with Jim OK (I’ve given up). He just doesn’t like to be pet for more than . . . oh, 30 seconds at a time. Jim’s theory is that he spends so much time grooming his fluffy hair that he gets royally pissed when you mess it up and force him to start over. Did I mention the hairballs? Frequent and disgusting. But all that changed this week. Enter the lion cut. We tried it out last summer and it worked wonders. And this time has been no different. Beast is seriously a different cat. He doesn’t mind being pet and he just seems happy. As a special bonus he looks hilarious, and the comic relief renders me incapable of harboring ill will against him. Here’s a before and after shot.

And there are more potentially auspicious items on the horizon if this trend continues. I still can’t help but think there may be a rigged anvil around every corner, but so far so good. And believe me, there’s nothing I’d love more than to kiss that black cloud goodbye for good and redub myself Lady Luck.

Get a job

Well, my unemployment experiment is officially over. On Wednesday I had a second interview at the architecture firm where Jim works, and received an offer later that day. It’s odd to think we’ll be coworkers. But I actually don’t think we’ll see each other much aside from staff meetings, which should be interesting. Jim has already warned me he uses these gatherings as a forum for his smart-ass comments, so I will have to find a way to curtail my embarrassment. I am all for jackassery, but I prefer smaller venues. I would never willingly attract attention in a setting with more than 10 people or so, and Jim’s comments will undoubtedly mean I’ll be GETTING attention, whether I want it or not. People will be looking to me for a reaction, right? Urgh.

Anywho, my first day will be either June 1st or 4th, depending on whether it matters if I start on a Monday. That means I should have time to wrap up the insane amount of freelance work I have committed to. Don’t get me wrong, the extra money IS fabulous, especially since I took a buyout at my previous job that means I’ll be getting paychecks from that company through the end of June. But I won’t have much time to laze about the house, eating bon bons and carrying on extensive one-sided conversations with the dogs.

At the very least I thought unemployment would allow me to accomplish a few things like polishing off Infinite Jest once and for all (that damn book will be the death of me), or maybe getting my office organized. But neither thing has happened. I probably need to manage my time better, be more disciplined and whatnot. Man-up and get some shiznit done. Nose to the grindstone. Serious of purpose.

But at the moment I’m in New Mexico, visiting my family and not doing a single productive thing other than eating as much green chili as possible and carefully monitoring Banjo’s behavior (he’s very sneaksies and tricksies when he’s out of his element). When I return to Colorado I’ll need to give some thought as to what I want to accomplish in the next month. Sounds like it’s time for a little obsessive-compulsive list making! My specialty.