Wednesday, January 24, 2007
When Asperger focus becomes pushing too hard
Darren,
I’m glad we finally got that whole saga about your game figured out.
It started with you and I having completely different expectations. I expected you would be very glad I bought you that expensive game, and then you would go play your new game with your friends. But you expected I would play it with you, right away, maybe several times.
Then you pushed me hard to play the new game with you. From my perspective you were relentless. You were demanding, browbeating. You wouldn’t take no for an answer. I felt harassed. From your perspective, you only asked a few times, in a reasonably polite manner, and you had something somewhat new to say each time.
That’s a common Asperger mistake – to push people too hard. It’s because you were so focused on your goal that you forget to put yourself in my shoes and wonder how I’m doing over there. And I wasn’t doing particularly well.
You didn’t pick up on my polite sighs, my calm comments like, “Not now, Darren.” Or, “Maybe later,” You didn’t notice my tired looks, or my little comments like, “My, what a busy day it’s been.” You didn’t notice how much work I had been doing. You didn’t think to offer to help. You didn’t ask whether I had a migraine. You forgot about my shoes, that is, you forgot to put yourself into them.
The second problem was you didn’t read the warning signs that I was getting close to having heard all that I could handle. You know how your puppy sometimes accidentally nips you when he is chewing on his chew stick? You said, “Maybe if I learned how to yip, he’d get the point.” Sometimes I feel like I need to have a way for me to say in your language, “Ouch, Darren, stop what you are saying and give me a break!”
You forgot that the best way to get what you want is to arrange it so that other people actually want to do it for you. Not by force or demanding, but by something much more appealing. How? That topic is for next time.
Love,
Mom
I’m glad we finally got that whole saga about your game figured out.
It started with you and I having completely different expectations. I expected you would be very glad I bought you that expensive game, and then you would go play your new game with your friends. But you expected I would play it with you, right away, maybe several times.
Then you pushed me hard to play the new game with you. From my perspective you were relentless. You were demanding, browbeating. You wouldn’t take no for an answer. I felt harassed. From your perspective, you only asked a few times, in a reasonably polite manner, and you had something somewhat new to say each time.
That’s a common Asperger mistake – to push people too hard. It’s because you were so focused on your goal that you forget to put yourself in my shoes and wonder how I’m doing over there. And I wasn’t doing particularly well.
You didn’t pick up on my polite sighs, my calm comments like, “Not now, Darren.” Or, “Maybe later,” You didn’t notice my tired looks, or my little comments like, “My, what a busy day it’s been.” You didn’t notice how much work I had been doing. You didn’t think to offer to help. You didn’t ask whether I had a migraine. You forgot about my shoes, that is, you forgot to put yourself into them.
The second problem was you didn’t read the warning signs that I was getting close to having heard all that I could handle. You know how your puppy sometimes accidentally nips you when he is chewing on his chew stick? You said, “Maybe if I learned how to yip, he’d get the point.” Sometimes I feel like I need to have a way for me to say in your language, “Ouch, Darren, stop what you are saying and give me a break!”
You forgot that the best way to get what you want is to arrange it so that other people actually want to do it for you. Not by force or demanding, but by something much more appealing. How? That topic is for next time.
Love,
Mom
