Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

I met my boyfriend, Sean, almost one year ago today. He’s wonderful. So good in fact that we moved in together. Sean has a 13 year old son, Shane. Shane is with his dad every Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I’ll admit; I struggle with this boy. This is the first person I’ve dated with a child. And I’ve got-em during those lovely teenage years!

Early on I tried to give Dad and son their space on the weekends. This is Shane’s time with his Dad and he doesn’t want it to be a threesome. Still, we did some things together to get to know each other better.

One of our first outings was to the park. Shane and I were running down a hillside and I was chasing after him and I grabbed hold of him laughing. Shane started screaming. Really, screaming. I dropped my hands and looked at his father. “What’s wrong?” “What did I do?”

Sean was calm and said “You didn’t do anything wrong. Shane’s just a girl.” I let it go and we continued to have a nice day at the park.

A few weekends later we are eating steaks Sean cooked on the grill. He would always make Shane’s plate to the point where he would cut up the meat or mash up the potato. I told Sean to let his son cut his own meat. He wasn’t a baby. “No, he’ll cut himself.” I’m thinking; this kid is way too old to not be able to use a steak knife?

We’re out for breakfast and Shane wants a sip of my latte. I hand it to him and he takes a gulp and proceeds to spit the entire mouthful back onto my cup. “Shane, what the hell are you doing?” Yells his father. “It’s hot!” and he begins to sob in the restaurant.

The crying is normal for Shane. He cries often. His feelings are easily hurt.

And so a year continues with “not quit right” behavior from Shane. He pees on the toilet not in it. He shuts the front door behind himself forgetting your still standing on the porch. He doesn’t understand sarcasm or puns, conversations are one sided if they occur at all. At BBQ’s and Christmas parties Shane will be in a room full of people and shout out “cock sucker” or “suck my balls”. Walking up a steep flight of stairs is scary. He’s pigeon toed and insecure; holding himself in a palsy like pose.

Then there’s the trouble at school. Shane has a temper and lashes out at children with physical violence. He’s been kicked out of choir, Karate and guitar lessons. He’s had detention and suspension several times. He doesn’t have any friends. Not the kind that come over after school or anyone to hang out with on the weekends or even anyone calling him on his cell phone.

Yeah, I’m not handling any of these experiences very well. Sean is no help. When I ask what’s going on he tells me Shane is special or different or going through the teenage years and I need to be patient and not judge him and he’ll out grow this and turn into a wonderful great guy.

People who have known Shane since his birth tell me Shane isn’t like other kids. But they won’t explain further.

My friends say he’s just being a teenager and acting out. He’s mad at me for taking his Dad’s time away from him. Yes, I think. That could be true but I don’t feel Shane’s actions are done with malice. It’s like he just doesn’t know any better. I blame his Dad. “Why don’t you discipline him? Why doesn’t he have any chores? Why don’t you do something with him every weekend to build his self confidence? What kind of a dad is this?”

And then it happened. Sean bought me an hour at the Spa. The manicurist was recommended by Shane’s mother (Sean’s ex-wife). I’m having a wonderful time getting my nails done. Jerry and I are chatting about Sean and our nearing one year anniversary and she asks me how I’m dealing with Shane. “You know, with his Autism and all.” My eyebrows shoot up. I ask, “Autism?” “Yeah, I’ve been working with his mom to try and find a therapist that works with his type of autism. He has Asperger’s Syndrome.”

“Oh”, I say. “So that explains it.”