Picture: A small child, her round face paused in absolute rapture, weaving through adults and children, curls bouncing as she bellows hearty, thrilled laughs. All this, just because she is at a party.
I looked down at Bean this weekend at a birthday party, where she only knew a handful of people, and realized A) well, she’s definitely an extrovert and B) I have no idea how to parent an extrovert. If I had been confused at all, several people came up to me to laugh and say, “Well! She is certainly an extrovert!”
I’d had my suspicions. She reacts like this every time I tell her we’re going to a party. She pulsates with joy all day before the party, then the party (which is always ABSOLUTELY AWESOME, even if it’s a grown up party and she knows nobody), and then for hours afterward, she chatters about the lights and the music and the eating and the dresses and the friends and the music and the lights… Our days are filled with saying hello to every stranger we see and attempting to turn anyone under 4ft tall into an instant best friend.
What do I do? If you were an extroverted child, what made you tick? What did you like to do? What did you wish your parents would have done for you? What were the pitfalls? My ideal childhood would have been me, alone, in a pile of books. You can appreciate how challenging it might be for me to see the flip side of this coin.
Lay it on me.
