I like to think of myself as a pretty skilled debater. At one point in my life, I actually prided myself on my ability to come out victorious in most of, if not all, my arguments. I employed logic, tried not to get too emotional, and stuck to my guns until I could get my opponent — whether it was a friend, a parent, or a romantic partner — to see it my way. And then I had a kid, and I realized that all of my previous tactics were totally useless. I was suddenly stuck having the worst (and most ridiculous) fights of my life. Why, you might ask? Let me break it down.