I am certified to administer the Myers-Briggs type indicator. I have found this psychological tool to be incredibly beneficial, both to the clients I work with, as well as for myself. Sometimes, when we are in situations with conflict, the start to a resolution is understanding that we all think, organize ourselves, and make decisions in very different ways. I have previously written about Andy’s and my differences related to our personality types, particularly the last dichotomy of the Myers-Briggs. The final dichotomy tells us about someone’s outward orientation to the world and the letters are J and P which stand for Judging and Perceiving. I am a J and Andy is a P. Just to refresh you about the MBTI, J's are planners. J's are people who think ahead and plan ahead and have color-coded planners and checklists. They have a hard time veering from a schedule.
P's are the people who go with the flow. They may not have a planner at all or they rely solely on their mind to keep them organized. They struggle to commit to something because it makes them feel boxed in. They are often late because they lose track of time.
Sometimes, I really wish that I was a P. Everywhere I go, when people find out that I am a J, I always get stuck in a particular role. It’s as though I’ve become a character actor in my own life. No matter the scenery or the plot, I am always playing the same role, the role of the J. When I go on vacation with my mom and the kids, I am the person who schedules the trip, books a place to stay, does research on where we’re going, looks up directions, drives the entire time while navigating.
At work, I am the diligent mother hen, making sure everyone in the roost is safe, happy, and doing what they need to do. I’m the person who always has a Plan B. What happens if there’s a snow day? What happens if everyone is in a meeting and there’s no coverage at the front desk? Who cleans up the break room fridge when it smells like something died inside it? I joined an organization as a volunteer and I start asking a lot of questions, followed up promptly to a few emails, and boom- suddenly I’m at the helm of the volunteers as the Board Chair.
Since I play this role in my outward life , it’s obvious that, as the mom of a family with two children, it was my destiny to play no other role in my family than a J. Each January, I start to plan for the summer ahead. Any working parent knows how shitty summer is. While I think that it is critical for a child’s development, summer is certainly a huge pain in the ass for anybody who works 12 months out of the year. Suddenly, there’s no place for your kids to go every day while you still have to go to work every day. Living upstate in a rural, limited-resource region, it can take a solid six months to develop a plan for the 10 weeks of May, June, July, and August.
I usually dedicate several hours each week, for months, to developing a plan of action. I start looking into summer camps, I talk to my mom about what week we are going to take our vacation ,and I start marketing for a direct support staff person to work with Caroline. If all goes well, I have some sort of framework by April. Sometimes things don’t go well, and the plan I’ve put together falls apart a week before the summer starts. I sleep best at night when I can count each week off in my head, memorizing where the kids are going to go every day of their summer vacation.
I lose sleep when there are gaps in the plan or when the plan shifts at the last minute. yet, each summer, they have somewhere to go, something to do, and someone watching over them in my absence.
But it’s because of my planning, determination, and hustle that it happens.
Because, for as much of a planner and organizer and cleaner upper that I am, I am definitely a hustler. I use my network, and my desire to stay connected with as many people as possible, to my advantage. I think of my ability to manage all the moving parts of childcare like Spider-Man's web-casting fingers. I cast my net out into the universe see what it sticks to, and then climb the wall until I find a solution.
Recently ,I was expressing, to Andy, my anxiety because this year's summer schedule is still somewhat nebulous. I say expressing my anxiety, but I think he would describe it as muttering because he can hear me talking about something but he’s not really listening. After I took a breath to avoid punching him, he said to me, "Don’t worry, it’ll work out. It always does."
This is when I realized that I am Andy’s Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and Tooth Fairy. Every day ,that dude wakes up and it’s like he went to bed seeing a Christmas tree with nothing under it and woke up to a floor full of shimmering, wrapped presents all with the fancy bow on top.
If I’ve signed Andy up for kid care pick up, and it turns out he has to work that night and forgot, it’s like he can give me that responsibility by tucking it under his pillow at night. When he wakes up in the morning, and looks underneath, there in front of him is the solution. It’s like, in his sleep, I have magically found another babysitter so that he can go to work and forget that it was even ever an issue that there was no one to watch our kids.
My ability to manage my own schedule and the moving parts of the rest of my family's life is Andy’s Easter basket full of Cadbury eggs, jellybeans, and hollow chocolate bunnies. And yes, it’s true, sometimes I screw up. Sometimes and he wakes up and there’s nothing under his pillow. Sometimes I forget to stuff the stocking and put it on the mantle, or I forget to put the fake grass in the basket. Nobody’s perfect. Not even magical holiday figments of our childhood imaginations.
I feel like I can’t break it to Andy that, like these magical figments from our younger years, there’s no such thing as the perfect organizing mother who can make things seamlessly and magically come together day after day after day. I'll crush his ignorant soul if I were to burst his bubble and reveal that the magic of the kids' summer schedule is because of me and not magic.
Yet, as a couple, we’re going to try to do the best that we can to be that magic for our partner. Let me go back to my character role as a J. My magic in our house has to do with planning ahead and my gift for organization and management of the mental load. I carry a lot of weight in that head of mine.
I have to give Andy credit where credit is due because he’s also my marital Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy in his own P way. He can’t really ahead or manage more than his own schedule, but a lot of things in our house just sort of magically happen.
P's are the people who go with the flow. They may not have a planner at all or they rely solely on their mind to keep them organized. They struggle to commit to something because it makes them feel boxed in. They are often late because they lose track of time.
Sometimes, I really wish that I was a P. Everywhere I go, when people find out that I am a J, I always get stuck in a particular role. It’s as though I’ve become a character actor in my own life. No matter the scenery or the plot, I am always playing the same role, the role of the J. When I go on vacation with my mom and the kids, I am the person who schedules the trip, books a place to stay, does research on where we’re going, looks up directions, drives the entire time while navigating.
At work, I am the diligent mother hen, making sure everyone in the roost is safe, happy, and doing what they need to do. I’m the person who always has a Plan B. What happens if there’s a snow day? What happens if everyone is in a meeting and there’s no coverage at the front desk? Who cleans up the break room fridge when it smells like something died inside it? I joined an organization as a volunteer and I start asking a lot of questions, followed up promptly to a few emails, and boom- suddenly I’m at the helm of the volunteers as the Board Chair.
Since I play this role in my outward life , it’s obvious that, as the mom of a family with two children, it was my destiny to play no other role in my family than a J. Each January, I start to plan for the summer ahead. Any working parent knows how shitty summer is. While I think that it is critical for a child’s development, summer is certainly a huge pain in the ass for anybody who works 12 months out of the year. Suddenly, there’s no place for your kids to go every day while you still have to go to work every day. Living upstate in a rural, limited-resource region, it can take a solid six months to develop a plan for the 10 weeks of May, June, July, and August.
I usually dedicate several hours each week, for months, to developing a plan of action. I start looking into summer camps, I talk to my mom about what week we are going to take our vacation ,and I start marketing for a direct support staff person to work with Caroline. If all goes well, I have some sort of framework by April. Sometimes things don’t go well, and the plan I’ve put together falls apart a week before the summer starts. I sleep best at night when I can count each week off in my head, memorizing where the kids are going to go every day of their summer vacation.
I lose sleep when there are gaps in the plan or when the plan shifts at the last minute. yet, each summer, they have somewhere to go, something to do, and someone watching over them in my absence.
But it’s because of my planning, determination, and hustle that it happens.
Because, for as much of a planner and organizer and cleaner upper that I am, I am definitely a hustler. I use my network, and my desire to stay connected with as many people as possible, to my advantage. I think of my ability to manage all the moving parts of childcare like Spider-Man's web-casting fingers. I cast my net out into the universe see what it sticks to, and then climb the wall until I find a solution.
Recently ,I was expressing, to Andy, my anxiety because this year's summer schedule is still somewhat nebulous. I say expressing my anxiety, but I think he would describe it as muttering because he can hear me talking about something but he’s not really listening. After I took a breath to avoid punching him, he said to me, "Don’t worry, it’ll work out. It always does."
This is when I realized that I am Andy’s Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and Tooth Fairy. Every day ,that dude wakes up and it’s like he went to bed seeing a Christmas tree with nothing under it and woke up to a floor full of shimmering, wrapped presents all with the fancy bow on top.
If I’ve signed Andy up for kid care pick up, and it turns out he has to work that night and forgot, it’s like he can give me that responsibility by tucking it under his pillow at night. When he wakes up in the morning, and looks underneath, there in front of him is the solution. It’s like, in his sleep, I have magically found another babysitter so that he can go to work and forget that it was even ever an issue that there was no one to watch our kids.
My ability to manage my own schedule and the moving parts of the rest of my family's life is Andy’s Easter basket full of Cadbury eggs, jellybeans, and hollow chocolate bunnies. And yes, it’s true, sometimes I screw up. Sometimes and he wakes up and there’s nothing under his pillow. Sometimes I forget to stuff the stocking and put it on the mantle, or I forget to put the fake grass in the basket. Nobody’s perfect. Not even magical holiday figments of our childhood imaginations.
I feel like I can’t break it to Andy that, like these magical figments from our younger years, there’s no such thing as the perfect organizing mother who can make things seamlessly and magically come together day after day after day. I'll crush his ignorant soul if I were to burst his bubble and reveal that the magic of the kids' summer schedule is because of me and not magic.
Yet, as a couple, we’re going to try to do the best that we can to be that magic for our partner. Let me go back to my character role as a J. My magic in our house has to do with planning ahead and my gift for organization and management of the mental load. I carry a lot of weight in that head of mine.
I have to give Andy credit where credit is due because he’s also my marital Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy in his own P way. He can’t really ahead or manage more than his own schedule, but a lot of things in our house just sort of magically happen.
Like the garbage being taken out, the kitty litter pans being changed, the fire being loaded up, the snow being blown, the clogged toilet being unclogged, the dog being dropped off at the kennel before trips, ticks being removed from people and animals, buttons being re-sewn, dog poop on the lawn disappearing, breakfast being served before the bus, taxes being filed, bills being scheduled and paid, and the girls being tucked into bed when I am exhausted and fall asleep at 7:30. My head is so full of planning and organizing that I don't have time to manage some of finer details. After being everyone's mom, at the end of the day, my body is too tired to do the heavy lifting. Andy always does the lifting for me.
This J and her P are so lucky to have our own marital holiday fantasy characters to balance out our personality deficits and make the tasks that are so hard for us magically happen for one another every day.
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