When Mom Says No and Dad Says Yes

A woman at a baby shower told me once, with a cake fork in her hand, that parents must never disagree in front of their children. Never, about anything. Caleb was a few months old and asleep on my shoulder so I nodded. For years afterward I assumed she was right and felt guilty every time David and I bumped into each other over a rule in the kitchen.

I don't buy it anymore.

Our oldest is twenty-one now and I'd be lying if I said she never watched David and me disagree. What they shouldn't see is the vote, one parent winning and one losing while they stand there with their shoes on.

Where I'm soft and where David is

David and I aren't the same kind of strict, and I'm easy about screens in August and about bedtime when it's still light at eight, and I couldn't tell you whether a shirt has been worn twice. David holds the line on all of that. But he lets a certain tone slide that I can't. When Caleb says "fine" with the long eye-roll on the end of it, David hears a tired kid. I hear a door closing in my face, and I'll stop what I'm doing and have that conversation right there at the stove.

This week's disagreement is about Tuesdays, now that fall ball starts in late August with practice on Tuesday afternoons and school begins a week from today, with Caleb in sixth grade and more homework than he's ever had. David says homework first, and if it isn't done, no practice. I said practice is the one hour of his week when he's completely himself and I wasn't going to take it away over a worksheet. Each of us thought the other was being unreasonable.

For two days all Caleb got from me was "let me talk to Dad," which I say so often that the post on his phone was mostly about it. The real talk waited until last night, when the kids were down and I went out to the shop and stood by the bandsaw while David sanded.

By the time he'd finished the board, he'd given up cancelling practice and I'd given up the idea that homework could just happen sometime. What we agreed is the table at 3:30 with shoes still on the mat, and a hard stop at 4:45 either way. If Caleb hasn't started by then we ask him why. The answer might be that sixth grade is hard. It might be that he's stalling, and we'll find out which by October. David, who'd have been the one to cancel practice, is helping coach this fall. Neither of us brought that up for a good ten minutes.

What Carolyn and Dale learned in a driveway

The person who taught me the most about this was one of my Wednesday recipe friends, Carolyn, who told me about a Friday when her oldest, Piper, was thirteen. Piper wanted to sleep over at the house of a friend the family hadn't met. Carolyn said no, mildly, while stirring something. Piper went out to the garage and asked her dad, and Dale said sure, just call when you get there, because he was under a truck and thinking about a truck.

Carolyn found out when Piper came through the kitchen with her overnight bag. She told me she said "Dale, a word" in a voice the neighbors could probably have repeated, and the two of them stood in the driveway with Piper between them, bag on her shoulder, looking at the ground. Dale said Piper could go because he'd said so. Carolyn said she couldn't because she'd said so first. Piper, who is not a fool, studied the concrete.

Piper went in the end, and what Carolyn remembers isn't the sleepover so much as watching her daughter see one parent lose and the other win, and then, for two years, watching every question go to whichever of them seemed likeliest to say yes.

What they changed was small. A first answer stands until the other parent has heard the question. And Dale's first sentence to any of the kids now, before anything else, is "What did your mom say?" Carolyn says that ended the shopping around by Christmas.

Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged.

Colossians 3:21

The verse before it, Colossians 3:20, tells children to obey their parents in all things, and the two sit side by side. Paul is speaking to fathers here, and I take it as a fair word to both of us.

What happens in the car, on the walk, after bedtime

The place matters less than having no child within earshot, and we use the shop with the door down, or the Thursday walk around the cul-de-sac while Ben naps. Other couples I know use the car, or ten minutes at the sink after the last kid is asleep.

The one rule I'd keep is that nobody reports the result as a verdict. "Dad and I talked and here's the plan" is fine. "Dad won" isn't, and neither is "I wanted to say yes but your father."

If a question comes at you before you've talked, "I need to check with Dad" is a complete answer. It's also true.

Frequently Asked Questions

Do we really have to present a united front?

One answer, yes. How you got there is your business. The kids need a single yes or no at the end, and they need it from a parent who'll say the same thing tomorrow.

What if my spouse says yes and I would have said no?

Don't overrule it in front of the child unless someone's about to get hurt. Say nothing, find your spouse later and tell them what you'd have said, and agree on what happens next time. I've failed at this more than once, usually when I was tired.

Is it ever okay to disagree in front of the kids?

A small one, spoken kindly, is fine and probably good for them. "I see it differently, let's talk later" teaches something. A fight over the very rule the child is asking about is another matter, because the child hears the argument as an offer.

My kid keeps going to the softer parent. Now what?

Ask what Dale asks: "What did your mom say?" Then send them back with that answer and tell your spouse so it doesn't happen twice. Mine do it too, and I try not to take it personally.

If you've got a standoff in your own house this month, take it out of the kitchen before school starts. Pick a time when the kids are asleep or out of earshot, write down one answer you can both live with, and say it the same way from then on.

with love, Melissa