Time for Some Neat Little Boxes

A few months ago, I sat down with Andy (our friend and, alas, former pastor) in his living room and discussed the results of a "test" that I took to determine my "strengths." I love these tests -- whether it determines one's personality, one's interests, or in this case, one's strengths, I find it fascinating that a series of questions can, with a fair amount of certainty, "box you up" in a nice little package. Sometimes, I admit, you get some crazy ringers -- I recall a test I took in college to determine what career path I should pursue. My top, Numero Uno result? Forget my passions -- history and literature -- rather, I should be a Dude Wrangler. OK, then ...

I enjoyed this particular Strengths-Finder test because, in this case, it was quite accurate. Andy and I discussed the top 5 results, my strongest traits, and I found it to be very enlightening. It was not a surprise to me, for example, that "Empathy" was a top strength, for indeed I often find myself connecting with others at a very deep level, feeling their pain or frustration or feelings of any kind. But the one strength that fascinated me the most was one that I always knew I possessed, yet was never able to "officially" identify it until then. I am an Arranger.

I loathe chaos. I despise uncertainty. I have this intense need to organize, not only physical or material things, but also ideas and concepts as well. If I am faced with a challenge, for example, the first thing I find myself doing is breaking it down, compartmentalizing it, and then placing each facet of that challenge into a little mental box. Then, with that done, I am able to take down one box at a time and deal with it. If, for some reason, I find that a situation has far too many angles, I get anxious and overwhelmed. And then, often, it either does not get done or I procrastinate until another time, when I might have more "luck" in dealing with it.

I see this trait more and more in Aidan, and I touched on this a bit in previous posts about a few new developments regarding school -- an unexpected bus situation, a new way of doing homework, and so on. Aidan's boxes got shuffled up, and I could clearly see (and feel!) that momentary confusion, that glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes. Unfortunately, he can't name it yet or own this part of his personality, so this kind of thing is often met with a cranky attitude or meltdown of some kind. That's OK ... it's all a part of maturing.

Yesterday afternoon I decided to tackle a few of these shuffled boxes, this time pertaining to his homework schedule. Aidan learns visually, so it's helpful for him to have things in front of him to keep it under control. I spent some time in my kitchen, which is where he does his homework and, obviously, spends his time eating his meals, so I needed to focus on this primary location. Aidan was a bit taken aback to learn that his homework would not be presented to him in his daily folder like last year; rather, he would be given a project spanning a few days or a week, needing to tackle a small part of it one day at a time. There's too much freedom in that, so the wheels started turning, his and mine. I found I couldn't help myself. How can I "box up" this untidy situation?

Here's what I came up with:

My kitchen ... now "Schedule Central"

Silly? Perhaps. But Aidan loved it. The center column, between the two doors, will host his weekly Bible verse -- easy to see, easy to remember, as he sits munching on his dinner. There's a schedule of his weekly "specials" -- music, art, and so on, so we know what he's doing on any given day. Then there's the Homework Chart, with an interchangeable list of what he has to do, and when it is due.

And in a predictable twist, all of this surrounds my own marker board, complete with my own neat-and-tidy "boxes" of things I have to take care of.

Two peas in a pod? I'd say so ... but at least things get done around here.