The Pile I’m Standing In

It snowed in the Seattle area last week, which made me a little nostalgic so I went back into my snowy photo archives. I found this photo of Thomas, just after Ruthie hit him with a snow clump.

He was 21 months old, Ruthie was 3 1/2.

It’s funny to remember them at this age, because even back then Ruthie went out of her way to push his buttons, and even back then Thomas was quick to retaliate.

This same scenario plays out a thousand times in our home – Ruthie’s sin of provoking, Thomas’ sin of executing his own justice. It happens so often that I get lazy and just start barking at them to leave each other alone.

I tend to take my kids’ flaws personally, as if I somehow caused them to be this way or otherwise failed as a parent. In my rational mind I know this isn’t true, but emotionally I carry the weight of their sin on my own shoulders.

When I remind myself this is just how they are because we all sin, I’m able to slow down and shepherd them through repentance.

But all those other times? The yelling.

It snowed last week. I lived in Minnesota for 18 years – a place where your nostrils stick together if you breathe too deeply, and your eyeballs freeze if you’re outside too long – so I’m not one of the crazies who gets all excited about the snow.

But about once or twice a year it taunts me.

The depth of my selfishness revealed itself during the snow week. I couldn’t even muster enough excitement for the sake of the children.

“Come play in the snow, mom!”

“No.”

Fortunately, we have a neighborhood full of play mates, so my presence was not requested often. But still. Would it have killed me?

(I think it might have.)

But I more than made up for it as the Queen of Hot Cocoa and Indoor Entertainment. Name your game consol, we’ve got it.

My big win for the week was that I didn’t lose my mind. I was in the middle of writing a script with a deadline on Friday, and it was not at all convenient to have the kids home from school.

Historically when Things don’t go According to Plan, I end up going Momageddon on the kids. But thankfully I’m 40 now because that behavior is sooooooo 39.

Thomas wanted to say goodnight to the snowman he built in the park.

I’m an INFP on the Meyers-Briggs type indicator, and there’s only 1% of us in the universe with that personality type.

(I just heard all the ISTJ’s of the world breathe a collective sigh of relief at the low probability of running into one of us).

I’m not really sure how we INFP’s get along in the world, what with our inability to stay on task and all. Bryan calls it my LOOK! A SHINY BALL! syndrome because I get so easily distracted. I think he’s spent the better part of our marriage with his head in his hands, or perhaps pulling his hair out or sticking a fork in his eye – he just doesn’t get me.

But I mean that in a good way.

We are pretty much opposites of each other, which as we all know is what we found attractive about each other. He loved my passion and flare for drama, I loved that he had a plan and knew where he was going. But as a wise married sage once told me, that thing you love most about your spouse will be the thing to drive you crazy in the long run.

Boy howdy, was she right.

But I mean that in a good way.

Bryan and I somehow make it work. Somehow we still Get Things Done together despite our…how shall I say?… drastically different approaches to Getting Things Done. Awhile back did some research on INFP’s, and I have to say we are quite entertaining on paper:

Exhibit A:

INFPs are quite disorganized. But when tasks at hand are important and best done in an organized way, INFPs strive to do so. Practicality is not a driving force for INFPs. Things that traditionally belong together may not be placed together because the INFP does not see it as necessary. They have trouble finishing what they start…. When they do finish a project, they may not consider it done ‘for good.’ …. Because they are able to visualize the finished product long before it is done, the actual completion is of less importance.
(INFP – The Dreamer)

This might explain why I still haven’t finished painting our bedroom. It might explain all the really cool (unfinished) craft projects on the shelf in our basement. It might explain the piles of important paperwork I leave lying around in random places in the house.

Exhibit B:

For example the “Perceivers” of the world are habitually late, have a strong tendency to “procrastinate”, and will be less attracted to the tried and true time management techniques recommended by the experts for all of us to use. Consequently if a “Perceiver” is working for a organization or a boss who values promptness, neatness, timely and structured decision making, more traditional methods of time management let us say, the “Perceiver” will have to work a bit harder.
(Personality Power for Everyday Living)

I particularly love the phrase, tried and true time management techniques recommended by the experts. It should be noted this couples well with the phrase from the previous paragraph, practicality is not a driving force for INFP’s.

OKAY, I GET IT. It’s true, I’m irrational and dramatic. I get there when I get there. I wake up at 3am in a panic, wondering if I paid That Bill. I make my husband, who “values promptness, neatness, and structured decision making,” just a teeny weeny bit crazy.

So yeah, I have to work a bit harder.

Exhibit C:

When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. They might go for long periods without noticing a stain on the carpet…. (or the tiny pieces of streamer paper still stuck to the wall in the corners of their dining room).

INFPs do not like to deal with hard facts and logic. Their focus on their feelings and the Human Condition makes it difficult for them to deal with impersonal judgment. They don’t understand or believe in the validity of impersonal judgment, which makes them naturally rather ineffective at using it. Most INFPs will avoid impersonal analysis, although some have developed this ability and are able to be quite logical. Under stress, it’s not uncommon for INFPs to mis-use hard logic in the heat of anger, throwing out fact after (often inaccurate) fact in an emotional outburst.
INFP – The Idealist

I spewed my coffee all over myself when I read this one:When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. This explains my sporadic tooth brushing habits. And my inability to rely on a daily pill to keep me from getting pregnant.

I also love the line, INFP’s do not like to deal with hard facts and logic. I mean, it’s true, I don’t. But SAYING it like that makes me seem like such an AIR HEAD.

Seriously, though, it’s not like I’ll be on my death bed wishing I’d been more logical during my life, right?

All joking aside, I think a lot about these personality traits. What are my strengths? What is my Achilles heel?

I am the way God made me, and while I recognize the way I am is wrought with faults and weaknesses (as everyone is), I still have God’s fingerprint on me.

Psalm 139:13-15 (New International Version)

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

God was intentional in his creation of me. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Knit together with precision. Intricately woven.

While I know I can be frustrating in my aversion to finish what I’ve started, in my tendency toward the dramatic, in my easy distractability, I am also all of these things (taken from the already mentioned links):

INFPs, more than other iNtuitive Feeling types, are focused on making the world a better place for people.

INFPs are highly intuitive about people. The goal at the end of the path is always the same – the INFP is driven to help people and make the world a better place.

INFPs are good listeners and put people at ease. Although they may be reserved in expressing emotion, they have a very deep well of caring and are genuinely interested in understanding people…making the INFP a valued friend and confidante.

The INFP tends to want others to feel as if they belong and that everyone is pulling together.

For the INFP, love is a very deep commitment.

The INFP is deeply committed to their beliefs and values and to the circle of those around them—family, organizations, and those they feel need them, particularly those who cannot stand up for themselves.

INFPs are deeply loyal friends, spouses, parents, and life partners. [They] have an inner sense of joy and contentment that is infectious to those around them.

I originally wrote this post over a year ago after a fight with Bryan. That draft took on a different tone because I was mostly interested in justifying my disorganization and proving what a slave driver my jerk husband was. I literally spent hours researching my personality type, and as I collected each quote I was all, “SEE?? THIS IS JUST HOW I AM! SCREW YOU!”

Quite wisely, I didn’t publish that first draft. As a rule, I don’t publish anything to my blog out of anger or spite.

When I started writing this a year ago, I worshipped my personality type. Being an INFP was more important to me than loving my husband, and I was willing to crucify him with my words.

Today I don’t even remember what the fight was about, specifically, but this latest version makes me laugh out loud. Between my dementia and my disorganization, we laugh at a lot of things around here, mostly related to my shortcomings.

And that’s way more fun than arguing.

Awhile ago I popped into Bad Animals studio to record a voice over track for one of my clients (Do you like how breezy I was when I said that? Like it happens all the time?). When I got there, the staff ushered me into a special parking spot and asked if I wanted my water chilled or at room temperature.

A few hours later I picked up my kids at the bus stop. Ruthie yelled at me (in public!) because (as usual!) homework comes before playing (gasp!), and Thomas got distracted 42 times while emptying the dishwasher.

How is it that my own children don’t understand what an expert I am, and that I’m to be deeply respected? After all, I’ve helped organizations worldwide communicate their story, yet MY OWN CHILDREN can’t seem to understand a word I’m saying.

For instance, when I say to Ruthie, “You can play with a friend after your homework is done,” she hears, “You will never see that friend again. Ever. Global warming will melt glaciers & flood the continent before you ever lay eyes on any friends ever again,” and responds accordingly with, “YOU’RE THE WORST MOM EVER!”

Our First Mother, Eve, was bent the same way.

God said Adam & Eve could eat from any tree in the garden except from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but Eve heard differently. She heard, “BACK AWAY FROM THE TREE! DON’T EVEN TOUCH IT! IN FACT, AVERT YOUR EYES!”

It seems a small discrepancy, but how often do our minds exaggerate to justify what we want? Because surely if God (or mom!) is really that unreasonable, then I’m totally going to talk my way out of this one.

When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it (Genesis 3:6).

Eve believed a half-truth (which is worse than a lie!), surmised that God was a jerk, and ate the fruit anyway.

KINDA LIKE MY KID.

When my kids act out like Eve, it’s so tempting to love my job more than I love parenting (which is also a job, in case you missed that). On my worst day with the worst client ever (hardly ever happens!), I can shut the lid and quit working.

But oh lordy, this parenting thing is forever.

We’re pinching our pennies for date night these days, so I was excited to remember I’d bought movie passes on Groupon months ago.

A free movie + conversation over steak tacos = a win for budget date night!

Which gave me a great idea! Because our entrepreneurial income tends to fluctuate throughout the year, I think I’ll buy myself a movie gift card and refillable cash card when times are aplenty, and save them for when times are lean.

BOOM!

I’m full of great ideas.

I noticed that Staci Eastin over at Writing and Living listed her most-viewed posts of 2011, which prompted me to look up what my top 5 posts were last year.

Even though I only have about 30 readers these days (you think I’m kidding), I was still beaming when I saw these posts rise to the top of the list – they’re my favorites, too!

1. You wanna do WHAT at Qwest Field? – The post about me getting out of God’s way when it comes to my kids’ faith.
2. Books: Where Do Babies Come From? – This post is actually from 2008, so clearly I know how to tap into the Google juice.
3. All My Favorite People Are Broken – a tear-jerker!
4. You May Call Me Mrs. President – about the best birthday present ever.
5. The Seattle Nice Is Alive and Well In Portland – about a hilarious evening out on the town in Portlandia.

By the way, you should read Staci’s book, The Organized Heart – a really great book on organizing that addresses the heart rather than the methods.

• The Cry of the Soul: How Our Emotions Reveal Our Deepest… by Dan B Allender…
• Bossypants by Tina Fey
• Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

I thought I’d get organized about the books I want to read this year so I created a 2012 Reading List on my Shelfari page.

I’ve come up with 8 and would like 4 more. Any suggestions?

I’d like some more fiction in the mix, but if you have a good non-fiction I’m missing out on, let me know!

Update: Here’s what I read in 2011!

Update: As I add books to this year’s reading list, the shelf above will be updated.

LOVED this quick snippet on writing from Jen Fulwiler on Conversion Diary:

Fellow writing nerds, listen up! I’ve stumbled upon something really interesting that you’re going to enjoy pondering: The critical importance of theme. The way I’ve come to see it, the theme of a story is the underlying element of it that transcends the individual events and touches on the universal human experience. Especially in memoir, it’s what takes your story from forgettable navel-gazing to an expansive story with wide appeal. For example:

• Scene 1 (no theme): Dude writes about eating a tomato.
• Scene 2 (with theme): Dude writes about eating a tomato. He explains that he grew it in his farm’s garden, and that this is an heirloom variety that would have been eaten by the farm’s original owners back in 1812. It is the evening of his 40th birthday, and he reflects on the fact that all the people who enjoyed these same tastes back in the nineteenth century are now gone, and that his own life won’t last forever. As he savors the textures and flavors and aromas of the tomato, he resolves to make the most of each day from here forward.

That’s an example from the memoir The Bucolic Plague by Josh Kilmer-Purcell. Scene 1 is how he could have written it, which would have been uninteresting; Scene 2 is how he did write it. The themes of “man reflecting on his mortality” and “the importance of savoring simple moments” animated the chapter, and elevated it from a self-centered journal entry to a moving glimpse of the universal human experience.

Fellow writers, heed my example and save yourself a lot of work: A large part of the reason that I am re-writing my book for the third time is that I had not nailed the theme the first two times around. I had not chosen one universal aspect of my experience that I would use to drive the main storyline, and the result was that I could never figure out why it kept feeling kind of flat.

Seven years ago today, this awesome guy (who now strikes me as a Chuck Norris look alike), died from lung cancer:

Gordy & Me. I was about Ruthie’s age.

A few weeks ago Bryan and I watched the episode of Breaking Bad where Walter hears his official cancer diagnosis. I don’t remember all the details, but there was mention of Small Cell or Non-Small Cell lung cancer.

Gordy had one of these, but I don’t remember which one. My lack of memory is maddening sometimes, but I remember he had the kind that is rare for non-smokers to get.

At any rate, I never thought anything about anything as we watched a show about a guy with lung cancer until I heard the words, Small Cell Lung Cancer.

I heard those words like the crack of a whip or the shattering of glass – high and sharp in my ears, while the rest of the show and general ambiance in the room faded into a muffle, like I was wearing headphones.

And then it passed.

The moment was so unnatural that I half expected to hear a sad song with Ellen Pompeo’s voice narrating my thoughts.

Anyway. This picture reminds me that my kids have never been to the cabin.

Blargh.

Fuck Cancer.

11:00pm

I think we stumbled across a new Zug Family tradition this year.

After a party and game night with some friends in the Belltown area, we parted ways with the group and wandered into The Lucky Diner to wait for the Space Needle fireworks.

We sat in the corner booth, surrounded by huge windows that made people watching in that buzzing neighborhood a most fantastically entertaining feature of the evening.

11:30pm

The kids ate Lucky Charms and I shared a Black Butte Porter milkshake with Bryan. It was totally low key, but it felt nostalgic and special.

We never eat cereal. We never stay out late. Everything about it was a treat.

11:45pm

Thomas is the night owl. He was chatty all evening & even during the car ride home.

Ruthie is an early riser, and despite an afternoon nap, she still didn’t quite make it.

midnight

Just before midnight we stepped across the street for a better view of the Space Needle. And also, Thomas wanted to hear the [insert Thomas making firecracker sounds].

After a month surrounded by lots of people and busy activity, an intimate family evening out on the town hit the spot.

Happy New Year, everyone. 2012 is already the best ever.

Medium on the lid, dark on the fold, light on the brown bone.

While most midlife crises involve sports cars or diamonds or younger men, mine apparently involves eye shadow.

My whole life it felt like the entire world knew how to apply eye shadow, but I just couldn’t make it work. My eyeballs bulged out like Marty Feldman, the skin above my eyes folds down funny over my lids, and I had no deep sockets or crease to work with.

I’d go to the make-up counters at the mall for advice, but everyone there put eye shadow on me the same way they put eye shadow on everyone else.

So I pretty much gave up on eye shadow.

Then for some reason when I got my bangs cut in October, it launched me into an obsession with eye shadow. I don’t know why, but I went from the Wake Up And Put My Hair Into a Ponytail Girl, to the Wash, Blow Dry, Style, Get Dressed Beyond Yoga Pants, & Wear a Full Face of Makeup Girl.

The trouble is, I still haven’t figured out how to wear eye shadow, and it’s because of that damn fold of skin and my bulging eyes.

So last night I went down the internet rabbit hole of makeup tutorials and came across all this. Four hours later at 12:30 in the morning, I was more confused than when I started.

Here’s why:

• I have “protruding eyes” (the politically correct term for bulgy eyes), which suggests dark on the lids and light on the crease.
• I also have “hooded eyes” (that damn fold of skin), which suggests medium on the lid, dark on the fold, and light on the brow bone.
• I also have slightly downturned eyes, which suggests dark on the outer corner at an upward angle.

I did my makeup after midnight last night because 1) I’m on vacation, and 2) If I didn’t try *something* after reading all that research I might never have fallen asleep.

Today I’m wearing enough eye shadow to paint the town.

Somebody… please save me from myself!

This tree is at the turn-around point on my morning walks with Sally. It stands on a grassy knoll overlooking the water, solitary and content.

I love my kids.

Some days I have to convince myself more fervently than others, but the fact remains: they’re pretty awesome.

I say this tonight in particular because, well, it was one of those nights, and I need a little reminder that they do things other than yell at me and say they want to live somewhere else where they can do whatever they want.

(By the way, if you’re inclined to let them do whatever they want, I’ll drop them off on Thursday. They’ll be ecstatic.)

Finally I shut the whole thing down and put them to bed at 7:30. Which is awesome, because their room is still not clean and we’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow.

But still. They’re pretty cute.

Right?!

Kind of excited about my latest techie adventure. A few days ago I shot two video clips on my iPhone, then I downloaded the iMovie app and edited the two clips together.

I think I’m inadvertently amassing a diversity of skills and tasks I can perform while in my pajamas watching 30Rock, and having an iPhone makes this much easier.

If I wanted to, I could have published the finished video to YouTube right from my phone, then posted it to my blog using the WordPress app…. RIGHT FROM MY PHONE.

Amazing.

But I wanted to add intro titling, and the iMovie app doesn’t have this function so I downloaded the edited video to my laptop and added the titling there before posting to YouTube.

Pretty fun. Except I have no idea why the size formatting is off. Will have to figure that out for next time.