My zen moment

Tonight Kent and I got into a fight. I forget what it was about-- laundry, kitchen duty, whether or not apocalyptic movies have to talk about god [I say if the movie is about the dissolution of humanity, the concept of god is practically begging to be addressed at some point. Kent says this isn't necessary and points out Mad Max. No talk of god there, he says. And that movie rocks.] Anyway, whatever the fight was about, it got loud. Kent decided he didn't want to go to our friends' house for dinner like we planned. And since the friends have kids Tallulah's age, she was promptly pulled into the argument. "Wait, wait. Let's not fight," she says, trying to salvage the evening. "I have an idea. Let's still go to our friends' house. It'll make us feel better." We explain that Mommy and Daddy need to work it out and then we do. We keep talking until we reach an understanding of each other's viewpoints, hug, kiss, tell each other how glad we are to be married, and hop in the car for our evening. We give Tallulah the standard, "Mommy and Daddy argue sometimes, but we always love each other" speech which she acknowledges with a grunt. As long as we're headed in the direction of playtime, she's got no input.

Fast forward a few hours. We're leaving our friends' house and I'm doing all my tricks. The five minute warning which I let Tallulah negotiate into ten minutes, the play/clean up time which now means cleaning up like superheroes, the race to the car, etc. We get to the car with surprising ease and I compliment Tallulah on her exiting behavior. Then Kent and I start to chat when Tallulah interrupts.
"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom!"
"Tallulah, you know how to get my attention. Say excuse me and then wait your turn."
"But it's important!"
"Then say excuse me."
"Aaaaghhhh!"

Did I mention that it was 10:30pm? That her bedtime is 7:30? That she doesn't nap anymore? That bedtime is always our hardest time of day?

This conversation was the beginning of a half hour long screamfest. While I held her bedroom door shut and she kicked and screamed on the other side, I thought about something I've heard before about kids. It is developmentally appropriate for kids to behave well in public and school, and then act out with their parents. I always wondered about that. Why would a child understand how to get themselves heard and negotiate the toy they want and generally interact appropriately, then forget just because they're in a comfortable environment? As Tallulah gnawed the wood off the doorjamb, I had one of those flashes of insight: children are moving from a wordless, cultureless, lawless existence into a structured world with too many rules, words they can't comprehend, and expectations they have to struggle to fulfill. They hold themselves in as long as they can and then, Boom! They go completely bitchcakes. And they do it in the place where they feel most free, where the repercussions are the lowest.

So, in this light, Kent and I fighting is an important part of raising our girls. We show them that we disagree, we feel strongly, we yell, and after it's all over, we still love each other. We're still glad to be a family. And Tallulah is sending us an important message by losing her shit. She's saying, I trust you to still love me, even when I don't follow the rules or act the way you tell me to. So, it's good to fight, it's great when my kid yells at me.

Aah, insight. It looks so much like self-delusion.