Have a good fight

Boy, have Manny and I been having some good fights lately! So good, I just need to encourage you, too, to have some good fights. Have some good fights if you are parents, have even more fights if you are a married couple without kids, have even more fights than that if you are an engaged couple, and for couples who who pre-engaged, y’all need to have the most fights of all.

Years before I even knew Manny, I learned that married couples take seven times as long to get through a fight as pre-married couples. The idea is that once you're legally/emotionally/physically/spiritually bound on that new level, the stakes are so much higher that fighting becomes seven times as tricky. 

Of course it’s not good to have a bad fight, where things go unresolved or people are left wounded at the end. But a good fight should help air some inner truths or frustrations hiding below the surface of your relationship so that you can figure out how to operate better together. A good fight should end with you owning a bigger piece of your partner's operating manual, more information on what their needs and/or dreams are and what you can do to help meet and or realize them. A good fight is one where you can hold onto the awareness that you are actually on the same team. I believe good fights will give you great tools and insight in how to better love and serve your partner so that while your future will not be fight free, it can be more intimate and uplifting and you can better help one another realize your best selves. So going forward in this post, know that I am referring to good fights. 

I almost made a point of picking fights with Manny while we were engaged. That made for a tough season in our relationship, with the logistical stress of wedding planning, the emotional pressure of preparing to be married, then the relational tension of fighting fairly often. While I feel no desire to ever be engaged again, and I might instead advocate simply having the courage to have the fights that come up rather than picking fights, I am grateful for those fights we had. We got several big issues clarified that served us well into our marriage. We fought about things like whether or not to budget, how to interact with each other’s families, how our cultural backgrounds were different, and how dishes should be washed. After all of that out of our way, our first year, which many people warned us would be the hardest, felt like a blissful extended honeymoon. 

The point was not to have a marriage without fighting, let me be clear. While it was a pleasant and largely fight-free first year, to this day, more than seven years in, our fights are one of the aspects of our marriage I remain most grateful for. 

So that worked out great. But no one thought to give us the advice to get as many married-couple fights in as possible before a child was in the picture. If a married fight takes seven times as long as a pre-married fight, I'm going to estimate that a parents'-fight takes about a million times as long as a childless-married-couple's fight. Ok, I don't know what the actual ratio would be, I’d be interested to find out if anyone knows of any such data.

With a child in the picture, not only have the stakes been taken up another notch, but also you have to add in the factors of exhaustion, limited windows of opportunity, and the fact that most of your time together includes a little interrupting machine who makes it their mission to be sure you never get to complete a full sentence in one breath. (maybe that’s why I overcompensate by writing impossibly long sentences) It is not so much that the fight itself takes longer, it’s that opportunities to work through a fight are so much harder to find. The frustrations simmer, boil, and then explode to the surface before you have a chance to address all your feelings or concerns in a more peaceful way.

While I am a big believer in being sensitive to the impact of what you say and how you say it in front of your child, I am also a believer in letting your child see you fight. (again, remember I’m referring to good fights here) For one thing, you don't often have the luxury of choosing when your fights will come up. And if your child sees the conflict open up, but then never sees it resolved, how will they know that things are okay between you, and how will they know a healthy way of resolving conflict themselves? So if your child is going to be present while you fight, I think you should use that as an impetus for self-control in your tone, words, and attitude towards your partner, which in general is not a bad rule when engaging in conflict. And you should use that as motivation to work towards authentic reconciliation in your child's presence. (For more complete and educated thoughts on this, see John Gottman's books on parenting/children)

Manny and I have been having some of the most productive fights of our relationship lately, and I am SO grateful for them! Maybe it is the realization of how efficient we have to be in our fighting, or the external control factor (Sofia) pushing us to be more civilized and constructive, or just the reality that we've been at this for nearly a decade now and practice makes for better fighters (certainly not perfect ones).

We've gotten to a place where we can trust that the other is in it for the hard times as much as the good, so it is safe to air out our grievances. We've had enough fights to start learning that it is ok to face the discomfort of discord, and in fact that walking through that discomfort yields a happier ending than pre-maturely cutting off the conflict. We've practiced changing our behavior based on what we learn in the fights enough that we can make an assertive request for the other to change without resorting to the sarcasm that comes from hopelessness and only makes the fights more destructive and the ability and motivation to change so much harder. 

I guess the general rule is to fight while you can. Speak your suggestions and requests when that’s what they are, before they grow into demands laden with hurt. Be humble but honest about your needs with the person you choose to trust to meet those needs. And share your playbook as you learn for yourself how you operate, because remember, you’re on the same team!

I know I'm not an enjoyable person to fight with. I know that this concept of good fights is 99% counter-intuitive. And I know that having the courage to enter into a good fight is really scary. I count myself immeasurably graced by a husband who would love me in this way. We didn't start out this way. This is a measure of our growth as people, as a couple, as a family. I just feel too grateful not to make a big statement of gratitude to him. 

I have to thank you, Manny, for the great fights we've had in the past several months that have pushed us towards a better life and a deeper love. The evolution of your approach to fighting demonstrates to me an incredible selflessness and love that I know I do not deserve. I have to thank you for each good fight that gives me more courage to enter into the next conflict with real hope for positive change. I hope I can change for the better, love you more selflessly, and help you find the satisfaction of your needs and the realization of your dreams that proves to you that all our fights and vulnerable conversations are well worth it. 

Dear Husband,

I love you and I am grateful that I get to fight with you.

Love,

your Wife.

Dear Lobsters,

I wish you all some good fights.

Love,

Zoe

Love is hard.

Have any other parents out there experienced these thoughts racing through your mind, "How did I let this happen?" ["this" being parenthood] I remember a point in my pregnancy when the gravity of the idea of parenting fell down on me like a ton of bricks. I was signed up and committed to this daunting, harrowing, journey. There was no turning back. And that was in the midst of a pregnancy that was 200% planned and intentional. Apparently at least 40% of pregnancies in the U.S. are unintentional. So I'm guessing there is a non-zero amount of parents out there who can identify with me.

It's not the predominant thought in my mind related to my child, but it has come up several times. Parenting is just hard. There is an overwhelming quantity of advice out there about how to get your kid to sleep, how to get them into Harvard, how to prepare the best foods for them. There's also loads of advice about how to help your kids get along well with their siblings, how to handle bullies, how to have good manners and respect their elders, even how to learn to love God. Good relational pursuits. And yeah, we need some of that because we're desperate for help in getting the best life for our kids. But you know what I'm struck by lately? I'm struck by the lack of support in all the dialogue about how to help parents just love their kids.

Maybe it is too scary to admit that loving our kids can be hard. I know it is hard for me to admit this, especially in a public space like this, but it's true. It is hard to admit there has ever been a moment, much less, momentS, where I wasn't totally thrilled at the prospect of being Sofia's mom for life. But it's true. Are we in some sort of parenting cult where we have to make it look like it's the greatest thing ever so all the childless people out there will go out and make more babies? "Misery loves company" or something like that? Am I afraid that if I admit this, that someone will deem me unfit and come to take away my child? That last one is a bit closer to the truth. And even more core to the fear around this admission is the prospect that Sofia would find this out someday and wonder if it means that I do not love her.

But I do.

I do love her. I do love her father. I do love my own parents, my sister, my friends. AND, sometimes, loving any and all of these people can be really, really hard. Sometimes I lose my patience. Sometimes I feel really hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes I feel like the way I'm being treated is really unjust. Sometimes I feel like other people don't deserve my love. Sometimes I get very angry.

And it is hard to see past a wall of fire in my eyes to a human being on the other side that I do need to keep on loving. It is hard to push past utter exhaustion to find the energy to attend to another's needs. It is hard to remain tender with a screaming writhing banshie who just won't cooperate. It is hard to stick by the side of a person you care for who seems so committed to their own self-destruction, and a bit of your destruction too, while they're at it. Love is so stinking hard.

So when someone tells me what I'm doing as a mom is "so important," I feel flattered, but honestly, it is just too vague to help me through those hard moments. And when someone tells me that there is purpose in my parenthood because it'll help me meet and minister to other parents, that doesn't do much to help me find patience with my child when I'm home alone with no other parents to witness our interaction. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know I've been struggling with this for a long time. You know that God has done some work in my heart to encourage me in these hard moments. And it is still hard. So He is faithful to keep giving me more encouragement that I so deeply need.

I was studying Luke 1 the other day, reading the story of this guy, Zechariah, who was an old priest who'd been praying for years and years and years for he and his wife, Elizabeth, to have a kid. The one day in his life comes up, when he gets to offer incense and enter the sanctuary of the Lord. He goes in, and the angel Gabriel shows up to have a chat with him. After four hundred years of silence from God, no signs, no prophecies, no nothing, God breaks the silence for this scene.

Gabriel tells Zechariah that he and Elizabeth are going to have a baby boy, John, that will be filled with the Holy Spirit, have the power of Elijah, and he will prepare the way for the Messiah. Wo. This son he has always wanted and had maybe mostly given up hope for ever having was going to till the soil of the hearts of Israel so that they would be prepared to receive Jesus and to believe in Him as their savior. Wo. Wo. Wo.

Israel's hearts were so disobedient that God had cut off communication for 400 years. And now after 400 years of silence, I imagine their spiritual receptors could have been rather dried up. So how was John going to re-open those hearts that they could see God? I'm expecting to hear things like reminding them of the prophecies about the Christ, remind them of the law and how it reveals their need for a savior, remind them that they are supposed to be a people holy and set apart. So let's see what Gabriel says, check out Luke 1:17:

"With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before Him (the Messiah), to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord."

Definitely some reference back to old prophets, wisdom, righteousness. But what sticks out to me is this bit, "turn the hearts of parents to their children." Seems really out of left field in this context. What does that have to do with anything? Not a note in my bible of explanation. Thankfully, my friend's bible commentary was more helpful and pointed us to Malachi 4:5-6, the very last word from God before the 400 years of silence:

"Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse."

So it is not just a random insertion. It's the last word spoken before the 400 years of silence, first word spoken after, like bookends. So it seems like there could be something really important about it.

It wouldn't have been said if it were unnecessary. If it were super easy for parents to love their kids, why would this be so important for John to do? So for one, this feels like validation of the challenge to love kids, I can breathe a little sigh of relief for having that feeling sometimes.

But for two, look at the purpose of doing so. Verse 16 of Luke 1 says, "He (John) will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God." How many people find it hard to want to get anywhere near Christians because Christians have been so unloving towards them or they've witnessed Christians being so unloving towards others? How many people can identify with the struggle to love God as "Father," because their own father/parent wasn't very loving? When parents abuse or neglect their children, broadly speaking, those children have a hard time with love as they go about their life. And similarly, broadly speaking, when parents love their children, those children grow into people who know better how to receive and give love with other people. But I also believe it becomes more natural to receive the love of God. Apparently it is even a key component in helping to prepare a heart, maybe the parent's, maybe the child's, to receive Christ as savior, if I'm reading these verses correctly. So . . .

Loving my kid is hard, AND, loving my kid is really important.

I can try my hardest to feed her well, keep her healthy, make her brilliant, make her an athletic star, make her the most popular and beloved person in the world, and I'm going to fail to a greater or lesser extent in all of these pursuits. But if I can just love her to the best of my ability, maybe that'll be enough to open her heart to God, who will meet all of her truest and deepest needs without failing. When I do the hardest work, loving her, I am nurturing a heart to be receptive to a greater love than my own, a love that can push past the most unlovable characteristics and behaviors, a love that can help my child become her best possible self.

Dear fellow parents, who sometimes feel bewildered, who feel daunted by the road that lies ahead, who are all too familiar with the end of their ropes, who are afraid to admit that loving their kid is hard, and who need to know all the blood, sweat, and tears are worth the effort, take courage. There is great great significance in the love that you are about to give and have been giving to each of your children. This love in and of itself is Kingdom work. 


Dear Parents, Dear Children, let's let love come in. 


P.S. I also find great encouragement in work of the Kingdom of God, in that the work itself has important significance, but just as God's love is infinite, so the work of God seems to infinitely grow. Even though the work is significant in itself, it also tends to be a preparation for a greater work to come, and that's how the Kingdom grows, one building block at a time. 

[Best of Year One] Cooking with Zoe: A Letter to my Love

[originally posted FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2012]

Dear Husband,


Standing with our backs facing each other, I wanted to tell you how much I missed this, cooking together. Me with stinging eyes, crying over onions, you with diligent hands, stirring the chicken. The scent of ginger and garlic, and the sound of music playing while we silently work. The brush of your arm against my arm as we swirl around each other in this culinary dance. Occasionally we turn and glance at each other, we steal a kiss. We share a taste of what we are creating together. 


We used to have this every night, this meal we prepared for each other. And I wanted to tell you how many together-things I missed doing with you since Sofia came. Lounging in bed in the morning, talking as long as we choose. Holding hands in a movie theater. Losing ourselves in the obsession of a video game until our eyes gave out or our stomachs cry too loud. Walking side by side under the stars, feeling open and free. 


But it didn't feel quite true. 


Missing things felt like declaring there was an unfilled hole, a vacancy in our love. And while it was a warm comfort to return to this act of communion after so many months past, the new things we do together bring me joy too, so much joy that I'm not ready to trade back just yet. 


You're still there when I cook, but now you are in and out of the kitchen, running before or behind our not-so-toddling-toddler. You are on the floor identifying objects of her  constant pointing. You are grasping her away from her incessant attempts to touch the oven. You are still present at my back, but she is in you arms, nuzzling her head under your chin. 

My mother taught me the art of breathing in relaxation in the kitchen, and you are teaching me the art of breathing out the joy of my family in the very same place. Breath in the wafting smells of spices and herbs, laugh out the the surprise of her new word so exuberantly expressed. Breath in the steam from a boiling pot, breath out a sigh of wonder at the tenderness with which she caresses your face. 

This is a life filled with abundance. This is sweet sustenance. This is love boiling over.


The time will come again when we cook together day in and day out. And that time will be a sweet return. And for today, I am ok that we have a new flavor of love to share. What we are creating together now, this life, it sure tastes good. 

In this special season of life, my love, I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.


Love,
your wife

Movie Review Monday #28: Parenthood

First of all, I briefly considered writing a vague yet outrageously positive review about The Muppet Movie this week even though I haven't seen it yet. I'm absolutely certain I'm going to love it, so why not? Because that would be deceptive, that's why not. I'll write a real review of it soon though. Okay, on to Parenthood.


Parenthood is not a movie. Well, check that, it is a 1989* film starring Steve Martin. But this review is about the TV show. Its first two seasons stream on Netflix, and Jeff and I are basically in love with it. Here's why:


1. I love Lauren Graham. I think I've said that before. I'll probably say it again.
2. The writing on this show is so freaking natural. I feel like there must be some improvisation because they talk over each other and interrupt one another in such a real way. Also, for the most part, it's not predictable. Something doesn't always go wrong in situations where you think something will go wrong. Things don't always go perfectly in situations where you think it'll be smooth sailing. They've thrown formula out the window in a refreshing way.

3. This goes along with the naturalism of the show, but I'm impressed with how they incorporate humor into some really tense situations in a not cheesy way.
4. There are two teenage girls on the show, and I swear they must have studied the speech patterns of the women who play their moms because they talk just like them. I may have even imdb-ed one of them to find out if maybe they were related in real life too. They weren't. I felt duped.
5. There's a character with Asperger's on the show, Max, and everything I've seen concerning him has been very well researched and, again, natural. I'd love to know what a parent of a child with Asperger's thinks too. For example, I was extra impressed with a scene where his behavioral therapist discreetly removes her hoop earrings when he starts to throw a fit and puts them back on after he calms down. (Although I did wonder why she was wearing those in the first place.)


In conclusion, watch this show. You'll enjoy it.


*Grrr! I Googled "Parenthood" to get the year of the film version and a spoiler popped up. Lame. I promise it wasn't on purpose, Jeff.