When I picked the girls up from school yesterday, Dylan started in with her incessant talking. I could tell Jennifer really wanted to chime in about her day. Usually, I remember to say up front, each day, that we’ll take turns – each kid gets to talk for a block. Dylan has a tough time with this but she does love her sister, so tries very hard to let her speak. But yesterday I forgot, or was lazy, or god forbid just wanted a normal walk home. So after 10 minutes of non-stop talking, I asked her to take a break. I tried engaging with Jennifer but Dylan interrupted so I joked, out loud, that she had verbal diarrhea. She thought that was hilarious, thank god. She laughed (maniacally) about it for a good block. But then when she was done, she started talking faster and louder and more incessantly. I made the observation that perhaps not everyone wanted to hear everything she was saying at all times, that she was talking to hear herself talk. She then informed me that I was being very disrespectful towards her because yes, in fact, people DO want to hear what she says. Always. I asked her to see if she could go an entire block without talking. “Why would I do that? I have things to share. Important things, like how high a score I got on my game.” I asked her to see how it felt, to just be alone with her thoughts, inside her head for a block. But she couldn’t, and went on to tell me how awful I was that I didn’t want to listen to her, at which point Jennifer chimed in and came to her defense, as well. Anytime Jennifer sees ANY type of conflict, she jumps in to defend Dylan – even if Dylan is doing something wrong. They scream “We’re sisters, that’s what you do!” At some point, I felt disconnected to my mind and body because I said, “Fine, here’s how it feels when someone talks incessantly and you can’t get a word in edgewise.” So, I started rambling. I talked about the place in Italy I’ll live one day with their Dad. I talked about how we’d have to go back and visit the girls, still maybe teaching the older one how to take care of herself in her 40’s. I talked and talked. And you know what they did? They ran. So I ran to catch up, and I talked louder, and I tried to get in their faces and said “Hey, hey, that’s disrespectful to not listen to me.” Throwing words back in Dylan’s face doesn’t work because she doesn’t recognize any faults of her own. Ever. Did I mention this? Plus, shit, if I thought I could just run away every time I didn’t want to listen to her anymore… wow, my life would be different. And yes, very childish of me to just not disengage and move on. I’m an imperfect person.
By the time we got home, Dylan was telling Jennifer that they’d hate me forever. I don’t think they thought I’d hear them but I yelled up the stairs “Forever, ever??” They didn’t get the Kanye reference. Inside, they were mopey and quickly told their Dad that I pulled on Dylan’s backpack. I’m not sure how that would have happened since I had both hands on my handlebars, pushing my bike behind them all the way home. It didn’t happen but Dylan needs to be the victim, always. Plus, hello, what if I HAD pulled on her backpack. What is that, abuse?? Jennifer said she hadn’t even seen it but she believes Dylan and I’m just awful, end of story.
I made stir-fry for dinner and while the chicken pieces were tiny, small enough for her little sister to eat, Dylan insisted in cutting each piece into tinier pieces. Wouldn’t be a big deal except that using the knife was making an excruciating nails-on-chalkboard sound every single time. Her Dad asked her to stop, repeatedly. I suggested using the side of her fork instead. Nothing. When she went in for her second serving (yes, chicken is one of the things she eats,) she kept doing it and when her Dad asked her to stop again she said “Listen, this is really, really hard work. And its going to make a sound, every time, so you can’t be upset every time I do it. You just have to deal with it.” Sometimes I admire her complete lack of awareness for anyone else’s needs but her own. Girl is going to get what she wants, end of story. Because cutting chicken is really, really hard. But in those moments, I think, how are we helping her by letting her believe this. In the real world, she’s going to get a smackdown. And because she has no skill set, as well as real mental illnesses, she won’t succeed. Being overly-assertive and demanding and believing that people are there to serve her and only her, will. not. work.