Yesterday Brian recalled our day from his point of view, mentioning the obsessive Olympics viewing with three screens going at once. Yes, three sets of sports going, and sometimes more than one would have the audio blaring.
It’s too much input for me. Brian can do that– he can have something in his earbuds that’s separate from the visual on a desktop screen and he’ll be flipping through text on the iPad, all at the same time. I can’t chew gum and walk.
He also remembers a great deal of the information he bombards himself with. If I’m not focusing on something, I probably won’t remember it at all– and that’s one thing at a time. He’s crazy. This behavior is insane. Except, it works for him.
Brian’s brain works differently than mine. He is stimulated by the constant barrage of information, whereas I’m overwhelmed by it. I have to remember this in conversation– that his brain works differently. And he has to remember that mine does, too.
We learned early on that Brian continues to think about issues after they are talked about and often returns to those conversations with new thoughts or perspectives. He is quick with responses, but I am slow with them. He has an opinion about everything. Everything. He likes debate and the types of conversations I would deem arguments. Tone is the lens through which I will hear words– and the tone is what stays with me, not the words. I like one thing at a time. Our brains work differently.
But I love his brain. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. I told him again today that his intelligence is sexy. It really is. He is a thinker, an analyzer, and an information junkie. And what I see as sensory overload is a wonderful Sunday afternoon to him. I went upstairs and scrubbed the shower. It was great.