Sundaly Slivers, 7/3/11: Sitters and Rovers

Sava's family trip this week: Roaring Camp Railroads in Felton, Santa Cruz Mountains

We got a new camera this week, and I've already spent most of my allotted Sunday-night blogging time sifting through the hundreds of photos I took in the last six days. I don't know what I am doing, but it has been wondrously fun experimenting with the few things I understand and seeing some different photographs emerge. Lots of pictures in this post.

we rode this 19th-century steam engine in a loop through the majestic redwoods; dang cool

A recent article in the New York Times on "shyness" gave me much food for thought a few days ago; I didn't learn anything new from it, but was reminded of much that I already know and that I tend to forget in the blur that is the daily grind. It helped me step back from some recent (yet old and familiar) struggles we've had with Sava about eating, whining, and coping, and reminded me that he is a complete person whose good qualities far outweigh mine. The article's intent is to argue against the pathologizing of "shyness," noting that when we encourage healthy shy people to see themselves as ill, "This does us all a grave disservice, because shyness and introversion — or more precisely, the careful, sensitive temperament from which both often spring — are not just normal. They are valuable. And they may be essential to the survival of our species.”

I've read a couple of sibling books, and I remember little of their specific advice about how to prevent sibling jealousy, how to get kids to share, how to teach them to respect and value and love each other (can those things really be taught?). But the one thing that sticks in my mind is an appeal not to pigeonhole kids into stereotypes, and to treat them as unique personalities with the capacity to be many things, not just one kind--an introvert, an extrovert, an athlete, an artist, etc. It sounds like simple enough advice, but it's been extremely hard to follow in our house lately, as we discover that, stereotypes aside, we have two kids with sharply contrasting personalities.

favorite picture of the week: "rainbow bear" is Sava's friend and comfort in all things new and scary, even the steam engine he's wanted to ride for weeks

People notice, and we get sucked into daily conversations about how "Raya is so different...Sava is such a sweetheart, and she is such a hothead"; he is careful about everything, and she lacks any common sense; he observes long and hard, while she throws herself into all new endeavors without any consideration of the consequences. It's fun to compare, and it gives us the false confidence that we understand our kids. It helps us feel that we "know" who they are, and it often determines how we approach new situations with each of them.

Sava is the sensitive one, and Raya is a toughie. He needs to be coached through everything, and she can be thrown, spontaneously, against any new challenge. He can be trusted to be conscientious and careful, and she should never be let out of sight for longer than thirty seconds (literally: we took our eyes off her for less than a minute while waiting for the steam train, in which time she managed to climb over a small fence and land on her head, in the dirt, on the other side). We need to cover his ears while witnessing a staged "robbery" with loud shooting during our steam-train ride, and she can be held up high so she can see better.

The New York Times article endorses some of our unhealthy parental habits. It talks about "shy" sensitive people as "sitters," and calls the others, who fling themselves headlong into whatever, "rovers." It draws a neat little comparison between the two, which I applaud, inwardly, as a perfect description of my kids:

“We even find “introverts” in the animal kingdom, where 15 percent to 20 percent of many species are watchful, slow-to-warm-up types who stick to the sidelines (sometimes called “sitters”) while the other 80 percent are “rovers” who sally forth without paying much attention to their surroundings. Sitters and rovers favor different survival strategies, which could be summed up as the sitter’s “Look before you leap” versus the rover’s inclination to “Just do it!” Each strategy reaps different rewards.”

The article reminds me what I already know, which is that "sitter children are careful and astute, and tend to learn by observing instead of by acting. They notice scary things more than other children do, but they also notice more things in general."  

It also articulates well what we now witness daily with Raya, and what we fear a bit when projecting into the future, which is that, “Relaxed and exploratory, the rovers have fun, make friends and will take risks, both rewarding and dangerous ones, as they grow. According to Daniel Nettle, a Newcastle University evolutionary psychologist, extroverts are more likely than introverts to be hospitalized as a result of an injury, have affairs (men) and change relationships (women). One study of bus drivers even found that accidents are more likely to occur when extroverts are at the wheel.”

And yet...as soon as I am done congratulating myself for understanding my kids so well already, I begin to think of the exceptions. Like how, for instance, I assumed she would love riding the carousel for the first time at twenty months, when her brother did not even try it until he was four years old, and she endured it stoically without crying, but broke down as soon as she got off and declared that she did not want to go on a second time. Or how I thought there was no way he would want to ride again when I couldn't get on without her and he'd have to be all alone, but he stood firm and said he would do it and when he did it was so unspeakably proud of himself

Like a typical "sitter" child, Sava developed a conscience long before his peers, and anxiety about disapproval helped "socialize" him early on, even though he appeared, paradoxically, to have so much difficulty being in social situations. Other parents still note his sweet disposition when they meet him for the first time, and everyone assumes he is an "easy" kid.

He plays well with his peers, treats others with kindness, shares willingly (except when kids break his fiddlestix creations), and loves to laugh.

He is gentle, considerate, and thoughtful.

He likes to say "poop" and "pee," but other than that rarely misbehaves.

He loves people, but is easily hurt by insensitive words or unkind deeds and, therefore, we worry about how he will do with people. When treated with anything less than absolute gentleness and unconditional acceptance, he tends to close in on himself and to question his own worth and abilities.

He is a wonderfully complicated kid.


Like a typical "rover," on the other hand, Raya is a "frequent talker" who takes risks and rarely heeds the consequences of her actions.

She approaches unfamiliar people and new situations with an openness that is often startling.

She explores fearlessly, often without thinking.

 Finds out by doing, rather than considering.

Welcomes life's messiness and is (far) more often amused than intimidated.

Wants to lead, rather than be led.

new camera offers better, more realistic views of the hemangioma, as in this picture; this is close to the look in real life

And yet...despite all of the ways in which each of our kids fits neatly into the "sitter" or "rover" description, it pays to remember, and be reminded daily, that they are far more than our already narrowed expectations. Hard as it is, we are learning not to lock them into the predispositions which they undoubtedly have, and to allow them to blossom in every possible direction.

Sava is wonderfully capable of acting like an adventurer, and Raya has every right to not feel like the social butterfly on all occasions.

He will attempt new, scary things when gently coached, and she will melt down after a full hour spent among peers who both delight and tire her.

He will eat a new ice cream flavor for the first time as if it were nothing, and she will refuse to taste a blueberry that has been offered dozens of times, for days on end.

our neighbor, who happened to be at the pool, kindly offered to take these fantastic pictures

We've been blessed with two children who offer us a first-row seat of the drama that is human nature, and it pays to remember to be thankful for the privilege.

Happy July 4th.