We’re All Wired Differently

Here’s a conversation you should have with your Sizzler [child].
Not so much, if they’re the dreamy, mind-just-sort-of-wanders type of child.
But rather, with the child who talks a mile a minute about each and every thing that pops into their heads (which is constantly full of such pops) and is absolutely compelled to share it all with you (or whomever is within three feet of them) in a non-stop, rambling, even tenacious fashion, complete with sound effects, hand motions and above all…en-THU-siasm.

That is the child to whom the following thoughts are dedicated.

Let me explain.

It is rare that I meet someone who talks faster than me. I have always been a very fast paced speaker, whether in front of a microphone or just sitting down over tea. Not only do I speak quickly, I sometimes seem to be almost grabbed by a subject or idea and then thrown onto a train of thought that I simply must share with you, in its entirety, with every exciting detail before the train pulls into the next station. Feel the urgency. So…when I actually DO meet someone who thinks and talks faster than me, I’m amazed at my reaction.

You would think I would be delighted, connected, or at least supportive.
Instead…
It makes me tired.
I want to listen. Really I do.
They’re so earnest and smiling and full of interesting information.
But nonetheless, there it is. It makes me tired.

I have to try to process ever so slightly faster than my processor wants to accommodate.
And soon, I’m squinting with added intensity of focus.

I’m nodding my agreement just a bit too slowly, like one of those movies where the sound track lags just slightly out of sync with the video.

While I’m still nodding, they’ve left behind the thing I’m currently nodding to, segued into another topic I’m trying to follow, and have leaped heartily into yet a third topic that, while fascinating, is nonetheless queued up FAR behind in my chain of thoughts processing machinery.

Realizing this then made me wonder…do I make people tired?
And the conclusion I came to is YES, I can and I often do.

Since I tend to punctuate most of my conversation with lots of humor, I think people tolerate the break neck speed with which I deliver information because they know, if they just hang in there with me, I’ll eventually stop long enough to let them laugh at something.

But the truth is, my fast non-stop speech can overwhelm people a bit, or at least cause them to need a few moments of silence once I’ve passed by. I have had to learn to work with this truth.

I haven’t had much luck actually slowing down. But I have learned to separate my ramblings with questions of my listener that allows them a chance to speak.

I have learned to allow them to complete their thought (even when I’m absolutely certain that I know what they’re going to say and I could simply finish the thought for them and we could all move on to the next one. Whoosh!) I have even learned that I don’t have to share every single thought that comes into my head. I can actually let one of two of the ride by.

It’s not their fault. They think fast.

And because the thoughts are usually interesting, they naturally want to share them.
They’re just sure you’ll find them to be as interesting as they do, which indeed is often the case.
They need to know that this is actually a good thing about them.

There is nothing wrong with having lots of interesting thoughts and wanting to share them.
In fact, that fast pace of thought which makes sudden leaps into seemingly unrelated areas is actually a treasure trove of innovation and out-of-the-box thinking. This quality may serve them very well over the years.

But they also need to know that many people may be overwhelmed by this fast pace of thought-outpouring. And when people are overwhelmed, they get cranky.

So sweet little Bobby is rattling away non-stop behind Grandpa, not pausing to take a breath.
Grandpa is trying to be patient but is also trying to get some things done around the house and needs a bit of his own thinking margin.
But Bobby doesn’t notice, and continues to jabber incessantly, sometimes even punctuating his commentary with, “Ya know, Grandpa?” “Isn’t that cool Grandpa?” “Would you ever do that Grandpa?” (Think of the movie The Birds. Peck.  Peck. Peck-Peck-Peck.)

Eventually (and completely unexpectedly for Bobby) Grandpa sort of snaps.
He says something curt and dismissive– completely shutting little Bobby down.

So in your conversation with your Sizzler Bobby, he needs to be told that his gift of fast-paced thought must be guided and delivered carefully. And he needs to be compassionate toward the people that he may be overwhelming. It’s not their fault either. We’re all just wired differently.

There are things he can do to still share his thoughts, but deliver them in a way that allows people time to process.

And don’t let little Bobby think this is about being bright while the rest of the world is not.
Make sure that he knows this is not what is at work here, although I will confess, it took me a few years to figure this out myself.

I have a child who is extremely bright, maybe even gifted. But I missed this for years because she processes thought very slowly. She is methodical, careful, contemplative and meticulous.
But once she has processed a thought, it is solid.
She knows why she knows what she knows. She is a child who can only handle just so much input at once. She has recently learned of and adopted a metaphor that describes her well.

“I am like a cordless drill, who can give you about a 10 minute burst of focused productivity, and then I need about a 24 hour recharge.”Sizzlers and non-sizzlers can co-exist without driving each other crazy. But it will take an awareness on the part of the Sizzler as to the impact of their speaking habits.
Then…

It will take a little work, a little understanding, and a LOT of practice.

One more thing to try.

Carol Barnier
Delightful Speaker, Entertaining Author, Adequate Wife, Pitiful Housekeeper

For more encouraging articles like this one, check out 12 Tips for Cultivating Compassion in Your Kids

Learn more about the author at Carol Barnier