Dear Calvin,

I know your mom is a better cook than I am. I also think she’s tidier than I am. In case the second statement is, in fact, true, then let me show you how to make a huge mess—and how to have great fun in the making of the huge mess. You’ll need to open the box that came in the mail, set the playdoh aside, and pull on those cool giraffe boots. Having fun yet? Good. Now, don’t you dare find contentment with wearing those boots indoors, young man. Beg your mama to find you the largest, muddiest puddle in St. Louis and then try to emulate the following shots.

You’ll need to run back and forth in the puddles, splashing the mud way up high in the air.

Sometimes you can stand still and jump, other times you should leap across the water like a frog.

You’ll know you’ve had good clean (ha!) fun when even your knees are filthy. Sometimes the mud comes out of clothes, sometimes it doesn’t, but don’t let that stuff worry you. Your mom will take care of the mess later. It’s your job to have fun with your new giraffe boots. And next time you’re in Lincoln, you and Liv can run puddles together.

Love,
Rebecca

It’s quiet time in the Tredway household. Livia’s upstairs taking it easy in her room. Jeremy’s sequestered in his home office, web developing away. And it’s quiet. Way too quiet for this wife and mama. I need to tidy the first floor, make a few soups for dinner, and do the dishes and yet I find myself unmotivated in all this quiet. So I called next door to check on the baby. No answer. I called my mom. But I think her phone is turned off. I even called Sarah in St. Louis. We never catch each other on the phone, so I wasn’t surprised I had to leave a message.

I am placing all blame for my conversational needs squarely under the title of Extroversion. Yes, sometimes it does feel like a curse.

I’m reading a book right now called Raising Your Spirited Child. The subtitle, worth sharing, explains that the book is “a guide for parents whose child is more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent and energetic”. It’s great so far (more on it someday when I actually complete the thing) and I want to share a bit with you from the chapter entitled, “Extrovert or Introvert: Finding the Energy to Cope.” Author Mary Sheedy Kurcinka says that extroverts need time with people:

“Extroverts collect their energy on the outside. Not only do they like people, they need them. Allowing extroverts to talk, share their experiences, and air their feelings gives them energy. Extroverts talk their way through movies, television shows, and the newspaper. They like to discuss the action and ideas as they occur, either in person or by telephone” (Harper 1991, p.90).

Though I’m reading this book in order to understand my own spirited child, this chapter has shed light on my personality as well as Jeremy’s. Every time I read something about how introverts work, I’m a bit shocked and then laugh at how accurately it describes my husband. And then, the explanation of extroverts fits me to a “t”. So, read ahead to see if either of the following paragraphs describe you perfectly. Where do you get your energy… from people or from being alone? Final note: there’s no right answer to personality type. We are all simply built in a particular fashion, there’s no right or wrong way about how you prefer to get re-energized.

[Excerpt taken from Raising Your Spirited Child by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka]

If You Are an Extrovert, You Probably:

• want to talk with someone at the end of a busy day.
• have an immediate answer for a question.
• want to invite friends over on a Friday night.
• are comfortable repeating something already said by someone else.
• need and like to hear that others love you and like your work.
• start to invited a few friends for dinner and realize you’ve invited the entire neighborhood.
• find yourself telling your introverted child to get out of her room and call a few friends.
• solve a problem by talking through the solution with someone else.
• feel comfortable initiating a conversation.
• call for the babysitter.
• are comfortable revealing personal things about yourself.
• frequently leave a party chastising yourself for talking too much and not listening.
• enjoy and need to interact with other people and feel exhausted when you have spent too much time alone or only with young children.
• immediately share a new idea or experience with someone and find joy and energy in the telling.

If You Are an Introvert, You Probably:

• sit down with the newspaper or zone out in front of the television after a hard day.
• will do anything, even clean the toilets, if someone else will agree to call the sitter.
• can’t imagine wanting to invite a group over on Friday night.
• find being in a large group for an extended period of time exhausting.
• share personal information only with those who are very close to you. It may not be unusual for a long-term friend to exclaim, “I never knew that about you!”
• think before answering a question, often berating yourself for not sharing an answer you knew.
• frequently have extroverts ask you the same question twice because they interpret your pause to think as ignorance of the question.
• prefer dinner with the family or one special friend, rather than with the whole neighborhood.
• find yourself hiding in the bathroom or back bedroom at large family gatherings.
• solve a problem by thinking it through yourself before ever talking about it with anyone else.
• get tired of telling extroverts what a wonderful job they’re doing and how much you love and appreciate them.

Welcome to the world, Baby Kate! My good friend Natasha delivered Kate last Thursday; we were thrilled and delighted to hold this 9lb, 1oz little girl on Friday. This child is absolutely adorable.

Zion Church has been blessed with babies like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve done the math and since last August, 14 babies have been born. In February alone four kiddos were delivered. In related baby news, our buddy Simon is home now and he’s doing wonderfully. He’s such a little peanut right now—teeny and perfect.

**I’m suffering from a serious case of Blogger’s Malaise. Hope this condition goes away soon!

I am not good at saying goodbye.

I don’t like it, the goodbye part that is. I put off saying goodbye until the absolute last minute, no drawn out goodbyes from me. Each friend of mine fills my life in a unique way, kind of like the way evangelicals talk about the Jesus-shaped vacuum in everyone’s hearts. I have the Jesus vacuum as well–except it’s not a hole, it’s filled with Jesus, but you know what I mean–but I also have friend shapes that feel, well, vacuous when that friend is gone from my every day world.

One of my dearest friends moved away last spring. Julie had seen me through every stage of my adult life thus far… Dating, engagement, marriage, struggles within marriage, joys within marriage, desiring children but still waiting for them, then adoption, infancy and toddlerhood. I had envisioned hosting her daughters’ bridal showers someday in the future and, like other women at Zion, I imagined sharing stories about how I remember when her mother was nine months pregnant with the bride and how she was so ready to deliver. But within two weeks of a job change, Julie’s family moved. It felt like a bandaid had been ripped off, quick yet painful.

I’ve known about today’s goodbye for sometime now, and it was actually prolonged by several weeks, so the bandaid metaphor clearly doesn’t apply. I am wholeheartedly behind the O’Donnells’ move to Japan, yet my support doesn’t lessen the sadness I feel by the Jamie-shaped vacuum in my heart. Jamie, Bryan & Jones have been an integral part of our community dinners for the last 18 months, and as such, they have become like family. It’s nearly impossible to break bread with someone every single week and not become something of a tight knit community. It’s been a joy to see Bryan & Jamie: The Newlyweds turn into Bryan & Jamie: The Parents. And then there’s Jones, who I got to hold and love on from his birth last March to his toddling days last week. Suffice to say there will be a piece of us missing when we next gather for a meal at Brook’s place.

Okay, so I don’t like goodbyes. I cry the ugly cry (as Oprah says) and feel like weeping for hours afterwards. But I suppose the goodbyes are themselves are only testaments to how treasured these friendships have been. As a Christian, I can say with utmost confidence that the story of these dear friends is not over yet. The goodbyes I cry over today are not the final goodbyes; eternity is yet to come.