Silent treatment
The Tall One isn’t talking. As a general rule, the kid’s pretty quiet, a bit of an introvert. He chooses his syllables very carefully and is in no rush to draw conclusions. In contrast, his younger brother can’t use his words fast enough. He shoves sentences together and launches them out of his mouth at record speed. His ongoing dialogue is constant background noise, like Sunday afternoon football. And, unless you’re a die hard fan, several hours of sports announcing gets tedious and (if you’re like me), at some point, don’t you just want to turn it off? This is how I sometimes feel about The Young One and his enthusiasm for historical play-by-plays. He’ll be giving me a very detailed account of America’s Industrial age and after many many many minutes of very dramatic storytelling; I’ve been known to say, “Alright already. Get to the light bulb. Let’s wrap it up.”
But, right now, The Young One is visiting his mom and The Tall One is here with us and free to speak without interruption. We’ve given him the floor, the Grand stand, the soapbox. We’re his captive audience…and yet, he’s decided to stay quiet. And what did I expect? That once his brother was gone, the Tall One would become our own Poet Laureate? I guess I did.
If I don’t engage this kid in one-way lip flap, we might not talk at all.
I’m finding it a tad difficult to communicate with this kid who doesn’t like to chat. Here’s why: I’m uncomfortable with monologues (I hated speech class in high school and I’m not fond of public speaking now), and I’ve concluded that unless I engage this kid in one-way lip flap, we might not talk at all.
I’m suddenly wishing I had the gift of gab, (which is ironic because historically, I’ve found the gabbers extremely annoying, which I guess has more to do with my own short-comings than their blabby nature). The gabbers are those self-involved people who can carry on and on about an array of subjects without any participation from the person they’re addressing. They have no trouble at company parties or social mixers. I want to be one of them.
Or at least, I want to be that confidant woman who can initiate small talk without expecting anything in return. For example:
The grandparent unit called last night (they call every Sunday) and talked to The Tall One for probably a good 45 minutes. I’ve been present for enough of these calls to know how they go. The Tall One sits slumped over with the phone to his ear and mutters the following responses: yeah, I don’t think so, I’m not sure. Most of the time he says nothing. This drives me CRAZY because as an eavesdropper, I have no idea what their conversation is about. His short answers give me nothing! Moreover, I’m just absolutely dumbfounded by my in-laws ability to carry on for so long with such drab input. How did they learn how to do that? What on Earth are they talking about?
Unless I’m reading straight from a textbook, I run out of words real fast.
This is what I think: In this world, there are listeners and talkers and if you want to be an effective parent, you need to be a good mix of both. For over thirty years, I put myself in the listener category, but now I live in a house with a kid who won’t speak until spoken to (and he’s got the teenager attitude to boot), so I guess it’s up to the grown up to initiate the chit chat. This is where you say: Izzy, NO! Of course, you aren’t responsible for doing all the work. Because honestly, there are many days when I think, I don’t have the energy for this. I can play this game, too. I’ll pull the wicked stepmom card and I won’t talk either.
I might not have the gift of gab, but I do a mean silent treatment.
We’ve been catching up on the last season of Grey’s Anatomy on DVD. Right now, Cristina and Burke aren’t speaking to each other. They’ve been sharing a very quiet and uncomfortable apartment. They’ve turned their relationship into a competitive ego-driven battle, where the person who breaks the silence first loses control and the other wins. Everyone can see this is ridiculous… except for either one of them.
I agree. It is very silly, but sometimes talking is too damn hard.
Tags:Greys Anatomy, silent treatment, teenager, The Tall One, wicked stepmom
This cracks me up. I am one of those annoying people who can find anything to talk about, but with my 17 yr. old nephew my rule of thumb is this: I preach on and on and on even with out a respose. I give him advice on all sorts of topics that I find interesting . . .money management, real estate, girls, sex, and goals. I talk about stuff that I know a teenager won’t dare to ask because they just don’t think much farther than their nose. I like to make him blush. It makes me feel good to open up and “help” him discover his chatty social side (we are still trying to find it). Even though he’s not my son and I don’t have the authority or resposibility of a mom or dad. . . I have a responsibility to myself. I am responsible for giving him a chance to be the best he can be. I ask myself what it is that I learned from my parents. . .and most of the real good stuff were the conversations they forced on me when I pretended I didn’t care.
Lindsay,
You are invited to come over anytime and force your wisdom on The Tall One. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from you:)
IR
Izzy, How does one who writes so exceptionally well not have the “gift of gab”???
I have known my step-kids (boys: 16 & 10) for about 6 years now, but this is the first time that they have lived with me and my husband full-time. I wanted this to happen, I encouraged it, and I still think it is the right decision (for them) to have them live with us. Where they lived before had very little after-school (or in school) activities. There was no choir, no basketball, no football, no YMCA, no tutoring…you get the picture.
It has been six months since the big move. We have a morning routine that is not only mapped out, but taped to their bedroom doors. Yet, in order for these necessary activities to get done (and I am only talking about making beds, brushing teeth, getting dressed, etc.), I had to practically become a monster. Every day: please find your sneakers; please wash your face, please, please, PLEASE….!!!! The same type of begging, pleading, ordering occurs when it comes to school work and cleaning too.
Things are definitely getting into a routine since the first day, but I think it is happening at the expense of my being liked. I don’t expect to be their “friend,” but I hardly ever get hugs, kisses, and God-forbid someone volunteers a word of affection, anymore. But I certainly like dolling out these life-affirming “treats.” I know that they are kids, but I am human too. I love them. What should my reasonable expectations/hopes be?
By the way, Izzy, I think we have the same kids. Let me know what works with the tall one because I’d love to know! :-)
Have you ever seen the indie movie “Me and You and Everyone We Know”? There’s this great scene that I think you’d appreciate….
A newly divorced father and his two sons are adjusting to their new visitation schedule. At one point, the sons are sitting around their father’s new apartment and no one is responding to the father’s chit-chat. His banter has become a monologue, thanks to the good old silent treatment. The father smiles, takes a deep breath, and says it’s fine with him because their silence is “…like a Zen retreat”.
My SO has three kids, ages 13, 11 and 7. The eldest has often given her father the silent treatment and refused to communicate. One time, tmy SO smiled and announced that it was “like a Zen retreat”. The kids didn’t get it, but we thought it was pretty funny, and a good way to cope with the silent treatment.
[...] wrote the other day about my difficulty communicating with a kid who doesn’t like to chat. Talking AT someone feels [...]
I like this idea of the Zen Retreat. I’m going to try it out. Thanks for all the input!
IR