Quarantine is Crushing My Extroverted Child

Summary

The article discusses the challenges faced by an introverted mother in managing her extroverted son's social needs during the Covid-19 lockdown, which has led to humorous yet concerning behavior as he seeks interaction with anything, including lizards.

Abstract

The author, an introverted mother, expresses concern over her extroverted son's emotional well-being as the Covid-19 quarantine restricts his usual social activities. Despite efforts to maintain social connections through digital means, her son's extroverted nature is not satisfied with virtual interactions alone. The situation has escalated to the point where the child is eagerly seeking social interaction with animals, such as lizards, due to the lack of human contact. The mother reflects on the irony of her wish for an introverted child and the impact of the pandemic on her children's behavior. She humorously compares her son's attempts to befriend wildlife to the creation of Dr. Dolittle and is determined to find constructive ways to fulfill her son's social needs within the constraints of the lockdown.

Opinions

The mother is deeply concerned about the emotional toll the lockdown is taking on her extroverted son, who thrives on social interaction.
She acknowledges the limitations of virtual communication tools like Zoom and Facetime in fulfilling her son's need for in-person socialization.
The mother recognizes the stark contrast between her own

And he now aspires to be Dr. Dolittle

My extroverted son is slowly suffocating during this Covid-19 lockdown. To say he misses his social life would be an understatement. I am worried about the impact this is having on his emotional well being. And to be honest, I have no idea what to do about it.

We are doing all the things we are told to do. My son attends his class Zoom “Playdates” that I have taken on planning and scheduling for his sake. We do his daily Marco Polo submissions with his teachers and classmates. Both my kids get to Facetime with their extended families whenever they want. So neither one is starved of human interaction. It is just not at the level they are used to.

All of us are feeling the stress of social isolation in one-way or another. Humans, by nature are pack animals and prefer social order. However, for my son who is a larger than life extrovert, the toll is real.

You see, he is exhaustingly extroverted. When I was pregnant with my daughter, people would ask what we wanted. My answer was always the same: an introvert. I didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, as long as they were an introvert. And she is definitely more introverted than him. But this shelter in place may be making her more extroverted than I realized.

It has always been a challenge for me to encourage my little extrovert while I shrink away into my introverted self. It takes active planning and thought for me to ensure he gets what he needs to thrive. And during normal times, we have found a system that works for us.

However, this shelter in place has upended all of my coping mechanisms and left us in a barren wasteland.

I first noticed that my kids were becoming more starved for interaction when they started waving and saying hi to neighbors whenever they laid eyes on them. This is not horribly abnormal, but the frequency increased. Over the past several weeks, this friendly behavior has grown almost to the point of aggressive. If my son says hi, you best acknowledge and respond. If you don’t, he will continue to yell it at increasing volumes until you reply. This is of course paired with the Once-ler, a frantically waving 18 month old whose hand is the only visible thing sticking out of the stroller. She is also shouting “HI!” but cannot be heard over her brother.

Then it happened. They have gotten so starved for interaction outside of my husband and I that they have started making new, shall we say, “friends”. This shelter in place has rattled them so much that my son has started talking to Lizards. Not Lizzo, but Lizards — as in the reptile. Unfortunately for him, he scares the living daylights out of them. All they see is this screeching, lumbering creature flailing towards them. In their abject horror, their only defense is to fling their bodies off of anything nearby to save themselves. All my son wants is someone to talk to besides those he is directly related to. This whole thing would all be quite sad if it weren’t so funny. Or if I wasn’t so exhausted from being one of the sole outlets for his extroverted disposition.

Last week, I spent 15 minutes of my life watching him chase a poor lizard around someone’s driveway all because he wanted to say hi. The lizard was just trying to get from one side of the driveway to the other. However, my son was enthusiastically chasing after it, and crouching down yelling, “Hi!” with increasing vigor. I finally quit trying to coax him away from the now deaf and terrified lizard and waited for them to wear each other out. Eventually, I convinced him that there were other lizards at home to “talk” to.

But the prospect of a new friend would not be forgotten, so we had to revisit the following day to see if his new “friend” was home. Luckily for me, and the lizard, it was not. But I did start to wonder, was Hugh Lofting inspired by similar events while in quarantine for the Spanish Flu of 1918 when he wrote The Story of Dr. Dolittle?

So how do I channel his need for social interaction into a constructive way during this time? School is closed and Summer Camp is looking dicey. No parks are open and we can only do so many Zoom dates and Facetime. Plus he doesn’t have the patience to sit still that long. We only have so much wildlife in our yard to keep him occupied. And even less that will let him close enough to even see them. And none that will willingly let him close enough to talk to.

Of all the challenges I knew were coming my way of being an introverted parent with a highly extroverted child, this was one I never saw coming.

So I will keep trying my best to come up with ways to give him outlets. We are growing butterflies, so he at least has 5 caterpillar friends to chat with. Until then, I won’t start really worrying until he starts talking to the plants.