And I Will Sit There Seething.
With Shane home (FINALLY!), I am realizing why things were so incredibly … different when he was gone.
When Shane was gone, there was no one for Dylan to strangle, wrestle, or tackle. There was no one for Dylan to humor, entertain, prod or cajole. There was no one for Dylan with whom to be utterly goofy and absurd – and no one who laughed at repetitive jokes about dry-witted, slightly obscene YouTube videos.
But most importantly, when Shane was gone, there was no one for Dylan to interrupt. We held normal, one-on-one conversations, almost like adults. Dylan was capable of waiting until I was done talking before he spoke.
With Shane back, he interrupts me, while I’m talking to Shane. He interrupts Shane, when he’s talking (to anyone). And he interrupts anyone else in the room, if it means being able to say what’s on his mind immediately.
Shane will say something like, “Remember that time when we — ”
And Dylan will burst in with, “Animals are elastic!” or some such nonsense, usually in an exceptionally high-pitched squeal, as if he’s uncontrollably compelled to fill the air with his voice.
Then I will ignore Shane and say, “Dylan! Shane was talking!”
And Dylan – also ignoring, rather than apologizing to Shane – will say, “But animals are elastic, you know why?”
And I will say, “No, I do not know why. I do not care why. I wanted to hear what Shane had to say, and then I would be happy to hear what you have to say. Go ahead, Shane.”
“I don’t know what I was going to say,” Shane will say.
Dylan’s mission – if it was this – to grab back any shred of attention that might have been aimed at Shane will have been accomplished.
So I will try to remind Shane: “You said, ‘Remember that time when we…’.”
Shane will shrug.
A dead silence will ensue for maybe 8 seconds before Dylan will burst back into the conversation.
“Hey Shane,” Dylan will say, “do you want to know why animals are elastic?”
“Sure,” Shane will say. And then they will talk and laugh and carry on until the next time Shane tries to tell me something.
And I will sit there seething.
This happens 800 times every single day. I worry about Shane, that he’s not getting enough attention. Sometimes Shane repeats something multiple times, and no one even realizes he’s talking. His dad is the worst culprit. Bill almost never hears Shane speak, even if he’s looking right at him.
We know Bill has ADHD, too. But he’s not the only culprit.
Last week Shane said to me, “This is the third time I’ve said this, and you still haven’t heard me!” I’m not sure (now) what Shane said three times, but I sure did tune in for that fourth time!
And I worry about Dylan. I worry that whatever is compelling him to interrupt constantly is the same thing that is going to cause him to lose friends later in life. I wonder if he’ll ever have any self-control.
And then I think back on those four days, where Dylan – alone with us – was truly fun to have around. He was easy to talk with, mature, responsible, polite and kind. He was an absolute delight.
So I don’t know, really, why the dynamic changes so much with Shane around. I do know that everyone is happier having Shane here, so I guess we will learn more as we go.
I just wish it were possible to have both the good, mature Dylan along with the crazy, fun Dylan – and the ability to hold a rational conversation with both of them.