Going through hell

When my boys are playing in their room, what happens?  EVERY toy in the room ends up on the floor!  It makes a tedious task of cleaning up.  It would be less work to properly put away each item after they were through and before they got out the next toy, right?  We learn that at some point in our growing up. . . or, do we?

I think it works the same way in marriage when we have conflict: it's best to 'put each one away properly' by finding resolution. We can't avoid dealing with the conflicts forever, we just deal with them later.  They pile up and when we finally get around to cleaning house, we're angry and overwhelmed because we're trying to deal with them all at once.  If we don't find resolution, the problems don't just go away.  

Frank Barone, a character on Everybody Loves Raymond puts it this way:

". . . if you are having trouble with your woman, you don't go get another woman.  Then, you just have two problems!"

Simple. . . perhaps simple-minded, yet somehow profound.  

So, how do we put them away properly?  By refusing to give up.  That doesn't mean refusing to compromise, or give up some of our demands, but refusing to give up the ardent search for resolution.  Refusing to let the conversation end until we find peace.  Real peace.  The kind that puts a smile on your face and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  It means refusing to let our pride stop us from achieving the goal of reconciliation.  Don't stop when it gets ugly.  You just have to keep going until it feels good again.

Winston Churchill is quoted as saying, "When you're going through hell, keep going."  

Words to live by, don't you think?

Comic: Talking sports

The art of disagreeing

Mrs. O. and I had a disagreement today.  We were in the garage together...she came out to keep me company while I did a little work.  She was reading and I was working away when I asked a question.  "Have you ever thought that maybe...?"  It was kind of a long question, and the question isn't really the point, either.  I mean, we've had disagreements about other questions and statements.  Trouble is, I occasionally fall into the same trap as I did today.

So, Mrs. O. started answering, "Well, no.  I mean, as long as you've got people..."

Hmmm...It wasn't that she was disagreeing.  I'm fine with that.  I felt like she didn't quite understand what I was saying.  I probably didn't explain it well.  I'm not always very good at putting my thoughts into words on the first go.  I started to explain, "No, that's not really what I meant..."  I could feel her look of disappointment even though I was focused on my work.

"I think I'm trying to answer your question with a 'no.'"

Ok.  I know I've started to interrupt and I do that sometimes.  I don't want to, so I decide to stop in my tracks.  I'll just listen to the whole explanation.  I'm acting pre-maturely...or perhaps immaturely!  So, I say, "Okay," and I turn back to my work.

It doesn't quite translate in black and white.  I can't even feel the tension as I read it through, but shortly thereafter we were both hurt and the conversation was over for the time being.  What happened?  How many times have I been in a situation like this and said to myself, "How did I get here?  When did I start down this road?  Why am I so frustrated, and why is she so hurt?"

We had another awkward conversation a bit later when we decided to finish talking.  I was asking her what I could have said differently.  After a few suggestions I ask, "So, if I had said all of that, you wouldn't have been hurt?  You would have wanted to continue talking?"

"I don't know."

It dawns on me over the course of the afternoon (with much patience and assistance from Mrs. O.) that a deep conversation is more than "you say this, and then I'll respond with that."  If only life were that simple.  It seems like the problem is more related to the fact that it sometimes takes Mrs. O. a minute to separate how she feels from what she thinks.  Her thoughts don't always come out in a step by step kind of order.  I, on the other hand have little trouble separating how I feel from what I think...in fact, if I don't think about it too much I wouldn't even realize that I feel anything at all.  All of that makes Mrs. O. feel like she's at a disadvantage when the conversation turns into a debate.  If she thinks she's at a disadvantage, she's more inclined to be hurt by what I say.

But, I still haven't answered the question: how do we disagree without insult?  How do you say, "I think you're smart, but wrong."  Once I catch myself interrupting, is there any way to turn that around?  Where is the point of no return...or is there a point of no return?  Well, I have a plan: I'm going to do my best to simply listen to Mrs. O.  Sounds pretty basic.  I should be able to do it.  Just listen until she's finished.  No comments.  No additional explanations.  If I really do want to hear what she has to say, then maybe I'll start by doing just that: listening to what she has to say.

Read Between the Tears

Our pediatrician doesn’t know this, but he taught me something that has proven to be critical to my communication with Mrs. O.  He taught me to hear what she is feeling.  We had spoken to him only days after our son was born.  Little E. wasn’t breast-feeding well and Mrs. O. was at the end of her rope.  He examined our son, and gave us his recommendations.  Then, as we were leaving, he looked Mrs. O. in the eye and said, “You’re a wonderful mother.”  She started sobbing.  I could have kissed Dr. V!  I knew that was exactly what she needed to hear.  She was feeling like a failure.  She didn’t need more tips and techniques.  She didn’t need nutritional supplements.  She didn’t need medication.  He gave her what no one, including me, had the insight to give.  

I remember the day I ‘got it.’  It was in the middle of potty-training and we were having some very stressful days.  Since it was our first child, we were having to learn by doing and it didn’t always go smoothly.

I came home after work and Mrs. O. was telling me about the day’s potty-training adventures.  Our son, whom we knew to be capable of performing according to our expectations, just wasn’t feeling it.  He could be a ‘big boy’ when he wanted to be, but today he didn’t.  Mrs. O. was lamenting the magnitude of her stress.  She could sense that it was affecting our son, making him even less inclined to comply with her requests.  That, in turn, added to her stress and the whole thing snowballed from there.  She included descriptions of what she said to him, what he did and said and so on.

So, before I got it, my first inclination was to go over all the things she shouldn’t have said, and begin to come up with alternatives.  Thank God, I didn’t do that!  I had tried that kind of thing before and it just didn’t work.  I decided that she probably didn’t need me to tell her all the things she shouldn’t have said...she already knew that even though she hadn’t said it explicitly.  Mrs. O. was feeling like a failure.

After a brief pause, I started to tell her that I thought she was a great mom.  I told her that she was doing everything right.  If she wanted to talk to little E. about her frustrations to reassure him that would be a great thing and none of this was going to cause any lasting hurt on his part.  She started to tear up, and she started telling me all the things she shouldn’t have said...all that stuff that I was inclined to tell her up front.  She didn’t need me to tell her what she was doing wrong.  She needed me to tell her that she wasn’t a failure.  She didn’t need me to hear the facts of the day, she needed me to hear how she felt about the facts.  

Note to self: keep doing that.