I went Quiet.

There’s a difference between quiet and Quiet. Lowercase is an adjective. Uppercase is a reaction to the world that I’m coming to realize means I’m over my limit, I can’t take much more, I need to pull back away from people, I need to be quiet because things are so over-the-top that I can’t joke about them and I’m sick to death of my own mental whining. When it happens in my own house things go really off the rails, but thankfully that hasn’t happened in a few years.

These are the times that I wish…sigh…I was normal. That emotional intensity wasn’t always perched on my shoulder. I would dearly love to take things in stride and not be continually thrown off-kilter by life’s curveballs. Some days it’s like being on a bender on a cruise ship doing the tango down a whirlpool. Not a solid footing to be found. Damned wiring. Makes it triply fun that my husband is a lot like this also, as well as our oldest son. I fully expect one day to find the younger son and the long-suffering dog slowly backing out the door to search for a little less crazy.

I’m tired. I’m tired of the crazy, and I’m even more tired of my unconscious reaction to it. Yes, yoga and meditation would help, but it’s kinda hard to do those when the dog thinks it’s playtime when you’re on the floor and the only quiet place in the house is the bathroom. The one with no lock on the door.

So I’m returning to my Quiet, for just a little while longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jen isn’t Quiet, she writes over at Laughing at Chaos. She also has a book coming out in July, courtesy of Gifted Homeschoolers Forum Press, and she’s gonna hafta get over the whole Quiet thing before that puppy goes live.

What’s so good about being intense?

It is a question that speaks to something every gifted adult and child deals with or has dealt with at some point – finding the positive in a life that at times feels cursed. We already know how hard it is to be intense. We know the heartache from living with emotions that run from happy to sad faster than we can keep up. We know the angst of living – and parenting – in a world where we (or our children) feel misunderstood more often than not. We know the difficulties of, as my friend says, painting the world in bolds when the rest of the planet is content to paint in pastels.

We know.

But, is there an up side to this?

For me, the answer is a resounding YES. Over the next few posts I will take some of the more typical aspects of giftedness – the ones that tend to be more problematic like perfectionism, bossyness, stubbornness, rigidity, and excessive worrying – and show the other side of the traits.

The Up-Side.

For today’s post, let’s look at perfectionism, continual worry, and stubbornness. I chose these three particular traits not only because they cause so many of the difficulties Gifted individuals face, but always because they are often interrelated, occurring together most of the time.

PERFECTIONISM -

Every gifted person I’ve met has had some familiarity with perfectionism, that drive to excel and be “perfect”. It is a trait of giftedness that can prevent us from accomplishing our goals by preventing us from ever finishing tasks. In school, it can keep that gifted child from turning in work, or keep them up late as they try to decipher what the teacher “really” meant with the instructions. In its most intense form, it can make us ill and paralyze us as we grapple with our own version of  ”death”, of being “less than”.

But, that is only one side of perfectionism. In its best form, perfectionism is actually task commitment – the drive to see something through to the bitter end, to the vision we hold for it. It is the trait that enables us push through our failures, push through the attempts we make and stick to something until we reach a type of perfection with the task.

I know for me, my perfectionism is both a curse and my biggest asset. It is my perfectionism that drives me to continually improve – in my personal life, in my professional life, and in my artistic life. It is also my perfectionism that creates existential angst as I attempt to manage my tendency to second guess myself. Definitely a two-edged sword, and one I have accepted as a natural part of who I am.

CONTINUAL WORRY - 

Ah, yes….Anxiety. We have all felt it. And with gifted individuals, the anxiety can take one a whole new form. Part of it relates to our ability to see situations from so many angles, allowing us to really know and appreciate some of the problems and more negative aspects of life. Our perfectionism, stubbornness, and even our rigidity can feed the anxieties we feel, turning them into seemingly insurmountable problems. Our anxiety can cause us to shrink away from life, looking for a place to hide and feel safe.

But that is only one aspect of anxiety.

Anxiety, or rather heightened emotions, can also serve to alert us to ourselves, letting us know when some of our other traits (like perfectionism) are running amuck. It can alert us to potential danger and help us steer clear of problems others may never notice. And, more than anything, it can ignite our empathy, enable us to see the world from another’s perspective. These are qualities needed in today’s world.

For me, anxiety and worry are my internal signals to take a moment and breathe. They are the signs that I am not staying in touch with my other intensities. The emotions are also something that enable me to connect with humanity in very profound ways.

STUBBORNNESS

Few people on the planet are as stubborn as GT people. When we think we are right, WE KNOW we are. When someone says they will do something, we EXPECT them to. And we hold ourselves to that same level. Our stubbornness can often lead to others thinking of us as know-it-alls, bossy, or rigid. And in truth, we are to some degree.

But, that is only one side of the trait. The stubbornness, especially when working with our perfectionism, enables us to stick to tasks in the face of difficulty. We don’t tend to give up easily, and we are steadfast in our approach. The rigidity, in its more mature form, is commitment – to tasks, to people, to the pursuit of our dreams.

For me, being stubborn has enabled me to stick with projects and search for solutions to obstacles that stand between me and my goals. It has kept me from giving up, and forced me to work through problems instead of running from them. Even in my marriage to my also intense husband, we joke that it is our stubbornness that got us through the rocky parts of our marriage, neither of us willing to be the one that walked away first. And thank goodness! My relationship to him is one of the best things in my life for reasons I can’t even begin to explain – but I had to get to this point by sticking with it and working through the hard times.

So there you go, a new way of looking at just a few of the more problematic aspects of giftedness. What do you think? Any positive aspects of these traits I’ve left off?

How Does it Feel to Be Labeled “Gifted?”

Looking Back on Growing Up As a Gifted Kid: The Open Classroom

Tales of a Fourth Grade Something

Growing Up Labeled “Gifted” – Vindication?

Junior High was 7th and 8th grade where I grew up. The gifted program offered was the MGM program. This was the same program I had been in when I was in 2nd grade in a different school district. I opted out because I would miss out on other electives and there were so many from which to choose! From what I understood, the kids in the MGM class basically played Dungeons and Dragons all day. They played other games that were considered educational, but at the time it didn’t seem like something I wanted to do during my elective period.

I ended up taking a lot of Home Ec type classes, plus ceramics, Mixed Media, oh, and Typing was a required “elective.” What I really wanted to do was to take Drama. Mom said, “no.” She wanted me to focus only on electives that might actually help me earn a living and learn life skills. For some reason, she didn’t think acting would be a solid steady career where a person could support oneself reliably. I didn’t care. I begged her every quarter when it came time choose new classes. I’m still not sure why ceramics was okay, but drama wasn’t okay. I was allowed to take Dance because it was good exercise.  I do know that one of the factors involved was that we (my mom and I, dad was opposed) belonged to a religion that basically frowned on higher education beyond high school. Trade school or vocational schools were okay because they didn’t take as long as a four year college.

The primary reason for this was because the only real goal one should have is to spend as much time as possible in the ministry. We were to follow the example of the apostles and first century Christians and put the preaching of the good news ahead of all other material things. What it all boiled down to is, what is more important? GOD? Or ANY thing else? When one is raised to believe in God and that the Bible is God’s word, the epic battle of God vs. Anything or Anyone, can only have one outcome.

They never actually came out said, “Don’t go to college.” They would always say it was a conscience matter and no one in the congregation should look down on someone if they chose to go to college. Still, the implication was there that if you went to college, you were spiritually weak.

By high school, there weren’t any programs for gifted students in 9th through 12 grades. They had honors classes, but that was about it. They didn’t have a drama class anymore thanks to the ongoing effects of California Proposition 13. If I complained about it to my dad, he would remind that thanks to Prop. 13, we got to keep our house. Ah, but I digress…

Because I wasn’t planning on going to college (I craved adult approval, and most of the adults in my life were in my congregation. These adults would be concerned with my spirituality if I made the decision to go to college), I didn’t bother working too hard to get good grades. I didn’t completely goof off though. Remember, I craved adult approval, and teachers were adults too. If I enjoyed a particular subject, I would manage to earn an “A.” If I didn’t enjoy the subject, I would get a “B” or a “C.” School wasn’t particularly difficult except when it came to math. The year I was to graduate was the last year they allowed students to only take two semester of math to graduate. I didn’t see the need to challenge myself.

I still hung out with some of the kids from the HAPP program and would feel a little envious watching them work toward scholarships and plan for college. I would remind myself that I was doing the right thing in God’s eyes. Sometimes I would wonder if my “giftedness” had been wasted on me since I wasn’t going to college. I wasn’t going to get a degree. Again, I would remind myself that I could use my “giftedness” in other ways. I could use it in the ministry work to help others.

At this point I feel the need to confess that I have been struggling with the writing of this. My twenty-one-year-old daughter happened to be in the room, and I asked her, half-joking, half whining, “Will you please write this for me?”

“What? Your article?” She asked.

“Yes. Will you please write my article that is supposed to be about my past?”

“How long is it supposed to be?”

“Not very long, I’m just having a hard time right now.”

“I think you’re probably over-thinking this.”

“Yes! You’re right! Of course I’m overthinking it! That is what I do! I overthink things!”

Which way do I go with this? I wanted to add that I did finally manage to coerce my mom into letting me try out for high school plays (we didn’t have a drama department, but we did have a drama club) and that by my junior year, I was cast as “Louise” (the French maid) in “Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Nile.” (Yes, the book and the film are “Death on the Nile,” but for some reason the play is titled as above). I struggled with seriously wanting to be an actor, but I believed I had no other options than to pursue only my spiritual goals.

I have more to say about this, but I’m realizing one of the reasons I’m having a difficult time is that I’m having to choose what to put in this post and what to save for another post so that this doesn’t become unreadably long. I’ll stop here and continue this at another time.

My posts often have quotes and references to educators and highly regarded professionals who say things I want to say as well.  It’s as if I’m not completely certain I have felt totally worthy of standing on my own voice and saying that my opinion/ideas are worth their weight. It’s still a self-doubt thing, but when it is a personal reflection of myself I guess I often put myself out there only with a shield. I have used excuses: “I’m not a real author,” “I don’t have a PhD,” “I have not served as professional advocate” or “I’ve never been a professional lobbyist.”

In my last post I mentioned listening to a slew of old albums. Listening to Pink Floyd The Wall in its entirety for the first time in about 20 years was amazing. If you’re not familiar with the story that Roger Waters delivers through the music, I’ll not spoil it for you completely, but I will say that the judge rules toward the end saying:

Since, my friend, you have revealed your
Deepest fear,
I sentence you to be exposed before
Your peers.

The Idea of being exposed as who you are in a very vulnerable, naked way, with no shield of others, is very scary. I read a lot, I retain a lot of information and can research well enough to find solid backing on a number of things I want to say, but the truth of the matter is that often it’s my opinion from my own experiences that should be able to stand on its own rather than needing the “experts” to have said it first.

Besides, in a place where I can find figures such as these:

‎”85% of what you read on the Internet is false.” ~Abraham Lincoln

“73.6% Of All Statistics Are Made Up”

Why would my opinions not be a valuable commodity? I’m not saying to hell with the scientific methodology, or that we should not listen to the experts. What I am saying is that my opinion matters because I am me and I have worthy things to say.

I am gifted and I’m learning disabled. I’ve lived with it my whole life. That’s a lot of experience.  I’ve had a number of friends (not enough) over the years who are also 2E and we’ve shared experiences, stories, and war wounds. My life has been educational in ways that no school classes could possibly teach. I do have an undergraduate degree. I returned 8 years later and picked up an MBA. I know my business accumen is pretty solid as I worked with many entrepreneurs as a business developer and could bring about rapid positive change in many businesses willing to put forth effort in making the changes I’d recommend. However, my business knowledge pales in comparison to what I have learned about 2E over my 40 some odd years living it, thinking about 2E, researching it, writing about it, and presenting on various topics surrounding 2E.

– I may get a bit geeky with numbers here –

One of my interests is statistics and math and it has led me to look at test scores from the Woodcock Johnson (WJR) and WAIS and numerous subtests. When we look at standardized tests we can group the subtests in various ways to see different ability groups to see different patterns emerge and get a better understanding of strengths and weaknesses. We can also look at significance and scatter of these tests results. Significance is how far from the mean the score lies and scatter is how much variance there is between subtest scores. On Scaled scores, the Mean is 10 and Standard Deviation is 3. So anything above a 16 is in the top 2% and anything below a 4 is in the bottom 2%.

If you were to test a person for disabilities and believe that it’s only significant if it falls outside the “normal” range, you are not looking at the individual any longer, and that’s not good. If you look at the test scores with consideration to their IQ and adjust where the Mean is so the Significance shifts up or down you have taken the first step forward in understanding the individual, but it’s a journey and it’s just a step in the process.

A gifted individual may have a mean that’s 15, 16 or even higher. Would a score of 8 not then be very significant? I am not a typical 2E individual, but I don’t know what typical really is when we discuss such an atypical group, but I have scores (plural) as low as 8 and I have scores (plural) as high as 19. I have scatter and I have significance, but more importantly, I have experience as myself, as 2E.

“Essentially, all models are wrong, but some are useful.” ~ George E. P. Box

So what is normal for 2E and how can we even define it when we have such difficulty defining the term gifted? Is it like Justice Potter Steward said when explaining obscenity, “I shall not today attempt to define the kind of materials I understand to be embraced … but I know it when I see it…”?

The tests can all point to indications of giftedness or LDs, but when it all boils down, I know it when I see it.  No matter what scientific data, higher education or psychological tests may be used.  As I meet some people who are 2E there is a pretty close to “kindred spirit” feeling, very special, and it feels like catching lightning in a bottle. No authorities can take it away from me, and many will not understand it. I guess it’s like what a friend of mine told me about his religion, “I can’t say it’s right for everyone, but it’s right for me.”

So, instead of thinking up something on the fly, I am actually getting organized and PLANNING out my posts for the rest of the month and June.  My upcoming topics include:

• A series of four posts that highlight the POSITIVE aspects of emotional intensity
• A series of posts related to preventing boredom in the summer months

Additionally, I invite all of you to submit guest posts for the summer months. Just drop me an email at christine(at)christinefonseca(dot)com or use the contact form on my website – http://christinefonseca.com.

In the meantime, be sure to check out Thomas’ post on Weds, and Donna’s post on Friday. This is a weird month with 5 Weds, so I will be pushing my 5/28 post (which is Memorial Day) to 5/30.

See you all Weds! And really, I am not as disorganized as I seem of late.

Do you ever wonder if and when you’re going to snap? Not just a twig-underfoot-snap, but a huge old-growth-tree-hit-by-lightning-snap. That feeling just keeps getting stronger and stronger, and I owe it to my family (and yes, to myself) to back away from the ledge and get a grip. No one will benefit from Mom losing her mind and running down the street naked with a platypus singing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” Except maybe the random person with a camera who then gains his 15 minutes of fame when his amusingly edited video goes viral. Dude, just Photoshop out the jiggle, that’s all I ask.

This summer, just an hour up the road from me, SENG will host their annual conference. I registered last month, but this afternoon finally got around to checking out what breakout sessions are available. And I fell in love and wanted to hug the whole danged organization and buy it a root beer float and rainbows and glitter and yeah, I’m excited about the offerings.

Of all things with giftedness, the social and emotional aspect is the part that hits us hardest here in the House of Chaos. Four people (three of them Type A firstborns), all with over-excitabilities of various strengths, bouncing off each other in a frenetic dance of intensities. It can be kinda rough, is what I’m saying. So to be able to attend a conference that not only acknowledges that gifted people are wired a wee bit differently but has sessions on how to cope with that wiring…well, it’s a relief. Maybe someone there will have “The Answer.” Or at the very least crib notes.

I will need those crib notes; we realized today that we’re looking down the barrel to the teenaged years. That realization did not sit well with us. So we’ll be working even harder to teach (and model) appropriate stress management. Of course, to teach and model such appropriate behavior, one must actually (ahem) learn it oneself. Which is one reason why I’ll be at the SENG conference this summer.

Pinky promise, I won’t snap between now and then, though the thought of a quiet padded room is delightful right now. I just don’t trust the guy with the video to Photoshop out the jiggle.

Not your children’s.

Yours.

Are you meeting them?

And does the very idea make you squirm with discomfort? (Sure, my kids are gifted, but me??)

Many of the posts in this group blog, hosted so graciously by Christine, have been a fascinating discussion of questions such as these, forming a virtual support group for gifted adults, regardless of whether they think of themselves as gifted, whether they are posters, commenters, or lurkers. I learn something from every post and comment, even though I haven’t been nearly as active a participant on this blog (or any other blogs, including my own!) as I’d like to be recently. My excuse is that I have been busy co-chairing SENG’s (Supporting Emotional Needs of the Gifted) 2012 Annual Conference, Shining Light on Giftedness: Empowering Families and Communities, to be held July 13-14, 2012 in Brookfield, Wisconsin (just west of Milwaukee).

One aspect of the conference this year that I am most excited about is a new breakout strand on gifted adults, where you can continue this online support offline and in person. Parents, teachers, and other adults usually come to gifted conferences such as SENG’s to understand their children better, but they go home realizing that there is much to understand and celebrate about themselves, as well. I love to see the spark (sometimes an anxious spark, but a spark nonetheless) in their eyes that is the beginning of a new road of self-understanding.

Here is a peek at some of the gifted adult breakout sessions we are offering this summer in Milwaukee:

• Disorganized Adults:  Is It Too Late to Learn New Skills? (by Kathleen Crombie)
• Enjoying the Gift of Being Uncommon Together (by Willem Kiupers)
• Finding and Claiming Your Adult Giftedness (by Lisa Erickson)
• Gifted Comes of Age: Generativity, Integrity, Entelechy (by Joy Navan)
• Giftedness Beyond the Classroom:  How to Survive and Thrive in Adulthood (by E. S. Vorm)
• Grappling with Giftedness: A Lifelong Challenge (by Ellen Fiedler)
• “My Child Is Gifted, Not Me!” Parents Coming to Terms With Their Own Giftedness (by Dan Peters)
• Staying Close to Your Profoundly Gifted Spouse (by Suzanne James)

You can learn more about the conference at the SENG website. I hope to see some of you in my home town of Milwaukee this July!

Most of you know that in addition to being a gifted adult and working with parents and educators of gifted children, I am also the parent of two gifted children. This perspective – having children who are gifted while also being a educator in the field of giftedness – provides a perspective that has proven particularly helpful as I work with families. I am able to test out my ideas and strategies at home, in addition to talking with my own children about their giftedness and the things that are both easy and difficult for them. Things like high stakes testing.

Yes, it is a helpful perspective.

This has been particularly true over the last couple of weeks. In my school district, it is testing season. Students move from statewide assessments (thank you NCLB), to AP and IB testing, to finals. Can you say STRESSED?

The teachers have been wonderful, holding special “practice” testing sessions for the AP exams in the evenings and weekends. My oldest has participated in all of them. But, this is her first real experience with tests like the AP exam. And, being the crazy over-achiever that she is, she is not taking ONE AP exam…she is taking three. Even more next year.

Oh yes, it has been a very stressful few weeks.

She spent this last weekend studying like crazy – in study groups, with friends, and on her own.

Like most of her GT friends, she has a range of intensities she deals daily. Additionally, like most of her GT friends, she holds herself to a crazy standard. Most people think my husband and I have pushed her in this direction, insinuating that if she gets too overwhelmed it is somehow our fault, that our expectations are too high. Nothing can be farther from the truth. With her, we are always trying to tempter the expectations she has for herself with reasonableness…teaching her, rather than dictating to her, how to manage her high expectations with the realities of being intense. We have taught her about being balanced, stress reduction, taking breaks, and perspective. It is a never-ending job. And one we are only marginally successful at.

That said, I am proud of her. She has learned that the hives she is getting right now is related to her stress. She is learning to give herself breaks, learning that she studies better with certain friends than with others. She knows she needs sleep, and that she can, and has, overstudied for things.

She is learning balance.

At least, balance within the framework of an emotional intense being.

What I am most proud of, however, is that my 15 year old child understands that her intensity is normal for her. She is not afraid of it, she does not let it rule her, nor does she allow the intense nature of her emotions get too far out of line. Most days. She understands that her intensities push her to excel while simultaneously threatening her successes by exacerbating her stress. She embraces her intensities, while understanding it is kind of like embracing a sword.

I originally started this post with the intent of commenting on the realities of high-stakes tests on our intense kiddos. But, as I think about my daughter and her friends, think about their journey through high-stakes testing, AP and IB classes, and expectations that can spiral out of control, I am reminded by one truth – Intense kids are intense kids. Their intensities are their biggest asset, and their Achilles heel. But good or bad, relaxed or stressed, it is normal for them. So, rather than comment on the right or wrongs of high stakes testing, I offer this…

Help your children learn to balance their lives – help them embrace their intensities, while never losing sight of the potential pitfalls of being an intense being. Walk with them through the fire that is sometimes their lives. Do this and you will give them a gift that has no measure…

You will enable them to fully embrace what it means to be intense…

And what could be more amazing than that?

My plan for today’s post was going to be about another recent emotional outburst from my youngest daughter, but for the life of me, I can’t even remember enough of it to put it down. My brain won’t let me access that information in enough detail. Something did happen a few minutes ago that made me wonder just how much my husband and I may be responsible for these outbursts (genetics aside). As I am writing this, it is just after dinner time. We almost never have a traditional dinner around the table. We haven’t for years. What normally happens is sometime between 5 and 6:30 p.m. I make sure that everyone who is going to be eating dinner at home is present and accounted for and then either I make something, or I make sure we have the type of food available so everyone can fend for themselves, or we get take out. Then we go to our favorite eating places–my husband and I on our bed in front of our favorite shows, our youngest on the couch in the family room in front of her favorite shows (or sometimes she joins us or sometimes her siblings join her). Once a week, each of the 21-year-old twins makes a meal for the family.

Tonight was one of those nights. We all dished up our lovely vegan lasagna. I took mine back to my room and my youngest took hers and followed me in there. My husband came out of the office where he had been watching blooper videos. He came into the bedroom with his food, but our daughter, who by now had finished eating and was playing a game with earbuds in, was taking up most of the space on the bed. He tried to get her to go or at least move. “Hey! Someone’s in my place!” he said, but she made a noise that sounded like, “Unnnh.”

We knew if we pushed the issue, she’d quite likely escalate to “Unnnnnnnh!” and then much more until my husband would have to physically remove her from the bed and then have to send her to her own bed. Oh, we are talking about an eleven-year-old girl with an above average command of the English language. I braced myself for the battle I thought was about to ensue. Instead, my husband just sighed and said somewhat defeatedly, “Just tell me when my place opens back up again.”

“You can force the issue,” I encouraged, trying to communicate he would have my full support. By now, he was halfway down the hall, “So can you!” He countered. “But it’s your space,” I responded, most likely on deaf ears –he was probably already in the office by now. So there sat our daughter. She had gotten her way over what her father wanted to happen. I thought, no wonder she loses it when we force the issue with her –she’s so used to getting her way! I tapped her to make sure she could hear me. “Hey, dad let you sit here because he decided he’d rather go watch the videos he was watching before instead of what I was watching. I don’t want you to think you just got your way because you were being stubborn.” She acknowledged the information then went back to her game. I guess we were both too tired to force the issue this time

Most kids get excited about their birthdays. Intense kids get more so. Intense triplets go wild. It was like sharing the house with small monkeys pumped full of amphetamines.

Meanwhile, hiding in his room, was my eldest son, seeking refuge from the storm and wallowing in self-pity. He is just as intense as they are. At Christmas, he leads the wild rampages. But when they have a birthday and he doesn’t, that same intensity leads him to conclude that he is unloved and never will be.

I was not able to help them manage their stresses. I was overwhelmed myself. In addition to wanting to make the birthday celebrations perfect for the triplets, I was preparing to submit pages of my novel to my writing instructor for a final critique. My nerves were on edge. My patience was thin.

The morning of the party, I was baking cupcakes with my manuscript next to the mixing bowl, still making corrections. The kids were weaving through the kitchen, sometimes elated, sometimes in tears, always emotional. The triplets had been wearing new clothes from their grandmother for two days and exploded en masse when I insisted they could not wear them to the party because they were dirty. If I was going to get back to baking and editing, I was going to have to wash the clothes before the party – an extra task on a day that already held too much.  I did eventually manage to wash and dry the birthday clothes and frost the cupcakes.

In the last moments before driving to the party venue, my husband loaded the kids into the car while I finished making changes to my manuscript and emailed the final version to my instructor.

I was exhausted and the party hadn’t even started.

The kids had a great time at the party, but I was not a good host. I had no reserves to draw on to make conversation with the parents I did not know. I let the first child leave before I remembered we had loot bags for the guests. I introduced my husband to the people he already knew, but not the people he didn’t know. I’m not sure how I made it through.

By the time I got home, I was crashing hard, and it would take me two days to recover. The triplets still had the exhilaration of present opening and the depression of realizing that important items on their wish lists had not appeared in the pile of gifts before they would eventually sleep, but they woke the next day almost recovered. My eldest had a day or two of recovery before he would find some emotional balance again.

Two days post party, my eldest taught his siblings how to play one of the board games they had been given and all was laughter and fun. After the triplets had gone to bed, there was even time for a mother-son game of Magic: The Gathering.

Somehow, we had all survived intact.

________________________________________________________________________________

Kate can usually be found writing about writing at www.katearmsroberts.wordpress.com.