Use Your Words

My friend’s husband Josh sits squarely in the camp of sensitive men, and Laura is a woman who doesn’t enjoy confrontation. Like Mark and I, their communication is usually good. And like us, they are older parents thinking of expanding their family. Everyone knows kids don’t make for smooth couple sailing so I was interested in hearing about the thoughtful strategy he came up with for handling Stress & The Second Child. Even though the second child does not (yet) exist.

“How about this?” he broached the subject with Laura after an exhausting day spent traveling between cars and airports with their toddler, a delightful creature with an increasingly strong will. “We have a set of prepared index cards to give each other when things hit a low point. When we don’t want to argue, but we’re too tired or upset to talk the issue through.”

(When Laura tells this to me, a parent of one easygoing child, it makes perfect sense. But other friends with multiple children apparently jettisoned the idea. Ah, the best laid plans…those poor naive souls…good luck with that, their reactions suggested.)

“Awesome idea,” Laura told him. “One card could say, ‘I love you.’ You know I always need to hear that when things are tough.”

“And another one could read, ‘Take the next day off and do whatever you want,’” he said. Which is precisely what she said he needed in those moments: a temporary exit strategy. Time to regroup and recharge.

“On one condition: The person who takes the day off has to arrange any sitters needed for that day,” she said. He raised his eyebrows. “So you know, if the other person needs to work or something. It doesn’t seem fair to dump everything on them without much notice.” Dump everything on me, she was clearly thinking. Even I knew that much. It was transparent, but he agreed.

“What could other cards say?” Laura asked.

“How about, ‘Let’s talk about this another time.’”

“Good. ‘I’m not blaming you,’” she said.

“Blaming me for what?” he asked, looking over at her as she continued to drive.

“Nothing. That was a card idea.”

“Oh.”

Close call. Which got me thinking: Was this such a good idea after all? Could these cards actually get them into fights? Maybe they should put a Twitter-type limit on them so there’s no misunderstandings. Six words or less? 200 characters?

Even then, it’s probably best to steer clear of profanity and sarcasm. Keep things G-rated. Messages with such economy of scale could sound louder and more brusque than intended, like they do on Twitter or cell phone texts.

“Love you really” could mean be interpreted as sentimental “Love you, REALLY” or passive-aggressive “Love you. Really.” “I need to be alone” could be taken as angry “I need to be ALONE” or sad “I NEED to be alone.” Not to mention any combination of letters and words that could signal security or separation in the throes of an argument, making the whole episode that much worse.

Maybe the ground rules should include being cautious with verbs and limiting adjectives and adverbs (a good idea anyway, some editors of mine have said). Something simple could suffice: “Let’s talk later.” “You could be right.” “Let me think.” “This hurts.” And, with or without kids, certainly the key is also being cautious with how we say the things that get us into high-stress trouble in the first place. And learning when it’s time to pack it in, pass on the cards, and just say, “I’m sorry.”