IntroVeryVeryVert

I married at 19, so no one would accuse me of being commitment-averse. I mean, I hadn't planned on it AT ALL. I had dreams of graduate degrees and living abroad and taking a few besotted international lovers. But when a guy comes along who loves the same obscure books and has perfectly dark and handsome sideburns and is willing to take you to 3-4 movies a week, you better believe I'm locking that down. Almost fifteen years later, he still makes me laugh so hard in public that people give me serious sideye. On a weekly basis. (The sideburns are gone though, which I think was wise. They served their purpose in the mating dance, and he's moved on to romance-novel-worthy long and luscious locks - which is also definitely working for me.)

Another thing that brought us together was our shared love of not being around other people. Early in our marriage my mother-in-law enthusiastically roped us into taking the official Myers-Briggs test at the guidance counsel-y office in the busiest building on campus. So I spent a bit of a morning getting anxious about answering self-reflective questions correctly, which probably gives you a sneak peek of the results. At the time, I was a few points into the Extraversion category. But this was so, so very wrong. College was the height of my social activity, which probably had to do with the Rock Star status anointing the .01% non-Mormon students at BYU. Joining the church had the side benefit of allowing me to slip back into the squeaky-clean, somewhat-unfashionable crowd. Marrying David (a classic 'I could use about a month on a mountaintop, if you send snacks' introvert) was sweet, sweet relief. And we have spent several years happily avoiding parties together. And I play at ambiversion, cycling through eras of ambition and retreat, making friends and losing touch.

I think parenthood has intensified some of these traits. Ash is high energy, high intensity, human pinball madness. (In a very endearing, precious way.) So I hoard alone time like a ravenous badger. I also crave adult conversation and thoroughly enjoy social validation, which is hard to balance with my reclusive badgerly instincts. So every invitation is received with initial panic. Yes, invite me, I want to be loved! But please love me from over there while I stay home and make freezer jam. 

(I just made freezer jam today. Inside this badger is a Martha Stewart-looking badger wearing an apron.)

((I'm just gonna post this now because all I want to write about now is anthropomorphic badgers.))