If you've seen the film, The Aviator, with Leonardo Di Caprio and Cate Blanchett, you've seen my family life growing up. When Howard Hughes goes off to meet Katherine Hepburn's family, it's a heated dinner table, complete with healthy debate on everything from socialism to wealthy hypocritical issues. That was very similar to my life.

My Mormon-feminist grandmother, my hyper intelligent and generously caring grandfather and my fiercely independent mother would debate, discuss, and argue over everything from abortion to capitol punishment to the state of Israel. I heard terms such as “bleeding heart liberalism,” being thrown around the table like a ping pong ball, taken as a compliment and thrown as an insult, from the ripe young age of 3. I remember watching everyone, silently, wondering why everyone would get so mad after reading the newspaper and wishing they would just stop so that we could have some peace in the house.

Finally, one day, I asked them why they fought all the time. I'll never forget the way they looked at me with such bewilderment. “We aren't fighting,” my mother explained. “We're just discussing things that we don't always agree on.” (The funny thing was, when they did agree on things, that's when the voices rose to an epic level of manic intensity, but I digress.)

Well, I never forgot the relief I felt. I knew how much they loved each other, and I understood that it was possible to love someone and still carry a different view. Needless to say, it didn't take me long before I was chiming in with my own ideas and theories. No one ever talked over me, either. I got equal floor space with whatever I wanted to say, no matter how young I was. And my thoughts were as welcome as everybody else's.

Sometimes, I solved the world's problems. Other times, my thoughts weren't as monumental. But I participated, and to this day, I never fear entering into a healthy discussion over ideas and topics. All this to say, I've been looking at my oldest, who's three now, and wondering if I've allowed her the same wonderful exposure as my family allowed me. Have I sheltered her from healthy debate?

So, I've come up with some very effective playing rules that should enable my daughter to witness healthy discussions without worrying that mommy and daddy will be divorced by morning. So go ahead and fight it out. Just be constructive, play by the rules, and you'll be giving your children healthy tools to deal with disagreements that will, inevitably, come in their future.

Practice Effective Communication

Remember to do that old psychology trick, repeat back what you heard the other person saying. Example, “So, I understand that what you're telling me is, you'd like the basement to be turned into a giant music studio with no room for a second bathroom or a pantry?” Then the person can either agree with your interpretation or correct it. In which case the person would say, “No, of course I want the bathroom and your pantry to be in there. I only want the majority of the basement to be the studio..” Then you can say, “Oh, alright then,” or, “Um, no. I need more than 5 square feet.” This is a fantastic way to show your children the art of effective communication. Also, it gives them respect for other people's views.

Be Respectful

This means, don't be abusive, condescending, sarcastic or rude. Don't treat your spouse as a child. That stupid show, John and Kate Plus Eight, I saw it once and got sick to my stomach. I was watching a show where a woman was belittling and browbeating her husband the entire time! She bossed him around, rolled her eyes when he didn't know where anything was, and basically emasculated him in front of their kids. I know I was only watching a slice of what TLC wanted me to see, but I can't imagine their life being much healthier. I'll leave them alone since they seem to be getting it all over the media right now.

Back to the rules of engagement: No name calling is a given. Also, it helps to leave the past in the past. Constructive discussion is the name of the game here, and bringing up old ghosts and missed opportunities is neurotic and naggy. Appreciate where your spouse is coming from.

If you are in an abusive relationship, stop reading this article now and go live with your mother, a shelter, a friend, a cousin, an aunt...Anyone, just don't involve your kids in your chaos any longer.

Have a Sense of Humor

If you take yourself too seriously, you're already in trouble. Never be too deeply involved in a discussion that you can't joke out of it at a moment's notice. And this doesn't mean you call your spouse an idiot and follow with, “I'm just kidding.” This usually works best with self-deprecating humor. Like, “I just want to make sure there's a bathroom nearby when I head to the basement for a can of peas because I have an abnormal fear of wetting my pants at any given moment.” Then you can make a joke about Depends and growing old together and continue making dinner.

When In Doubt, Retreat

If things go south, or you're not sure the argument is heading to a constructive place, take it to the bedroom, agree to disagree (sweetly), or drop it and discuss it privately later. Keep appropriate boundaries around adult topics. Obviously, intimacy issues and serious marital struggles need to be kept away from the kids. If you can't effectively discuss something with your spouse, err on the side of caution and keep your arguments private. To some people, driving the car into the grocery store shopping cart would be a closed door hostage negotiation. In my house, it would be fodder for dinner time, also known as “prime time.”

“So, how was your day today?”

“Awesome. I found a $1.00 off coupon for grated cheese, which is great. Then I swerved around a lady at Safeway and ran into a grocery cart. I tried to get a license plate number on it, but it was moving too fast. Can you pass the peas?” See how I did that? It was a one two punch. He didn't see me coming. Just like the grocery cart. He's still thinking about the great deal I got on Sargento, and isn't concerned at all with the ding in the hood.

“You, what?..Great deal on cheese, huh? Excellent. Now we can afford that $2,500 boat I bought today on my lunch break.”

And so we take it into the bedroom.