Transitions

From time to time people ask what Silas's and Eden's personalities are like. I always talk around the question until it seems like I've talked for long enough and then change the subject.

How lame am I that I don't know their personalities?

Recently I read a parenting book that gave a list of personality traits and made me realize that part of the problem is I have no language to describe personalities, for example, does your child have an easy or difficult time with transitions? Who knew that transition-response was a personality trait? What's your husband like? Well, Ben's really good at transitions.

But as I've thought about it, this does seem to be a good question. First we have Silas, a child who walks into school, sees orange play dough and a garlic press, and forgets that I'm still standing behind him. Then there is Eden, who when handed to different person (doesn't matter who the people are) immediately becomes little floppy noodle and arches away in protest. Difficulty with transitions? Too soon to tell.

And, then, there's me. It's not that I don't like change, it turns out, but that I don't like the process of moving into change -- yes, transition.

For example, right now I am sitting at a dining room table in a beautiful beach house in Corona del Mar with my mom, dad, sister, Ben, Silas and Eden (who thankfully are sleeping) listening to big tumbling waves crash out there in the darkness. This is the 4th night I've been here but, as things would go, it's really the first night I have been here. The previous three were transition. So here I am, ready to settle in for the week, just in time to pack up and drive home. For another transition.