December 9, 2005
I'm not the best parent in the world. Far from it, in fact. I yell at my kids too much and I lose patience with them on seemingly a daily basis. I have low tolerance for sitting on the floor playing with trains and action figures and dollhouses, and I probably don't make sure they get enough outdoor play time. I've compromised on so many of the die-hard principles I always said I'd abide by when I had kids that I've stopped keeping track.
But I still hang on to one, and it's pretty simple: I don't lie to my kids. This sounds like a no-brainer on the face of it, but actually I think most parents do it pretty frequently. The kids want to stop for ice cream, and instead of causing a huge battle by saying that they've already had too many treats today, or that you don't want to spend the money, or even that it's inconvenient and you have more errands to run, you say that the ice cream store is closed, when really it's not. You tell them that their pacifier got lost, when really you threw it away because they're three years old and too big for sucking on a pacifier. You tell them that their favorite preschool teacher went on vacation, when really she moved to a new state and she isn't coming back.
I could go on, and on, and on, and the reason I could go on is because I'm so often tempted to tell my kids little lies like this myself. It smooths your way through the day, avoids fights and tantrums, and makes you seem like less of an ogre when you have to tell them they can't have something they want.
But on this matter, I am steadfast. I want my children to always have total, complete faith that what I am telling them is the truth. I never want them to wonder for a second if I am telling them what is real, or what is slightly fabricated, or what is made up out of whole cloth. I remember, as a child, having adults tell me stories that were patently false, because they thought it was funny to trick a little kid into believing something that wasn't true, or for reasons of expediency as I mentioned earlier. You know the kind of thing I'm talking about; stories about how airplanes fly because they're being held up by little strings, or about how the elf helping out the Santa Claus at the mall's Christmas display really lives at the North Pole.
Even as a 5-year-old kid, I knew that airplanes weren't held up by strings, and I knew that it wasn't a real elf (I suspected that if there were real elves, they probably wouldn't be charging $5 to take your picture with Santa Claus), and after being told crap like that enough times, I developed a healthy skepticism about pretty much everything adults told me.
I don't mind if my kids develop skepticism like that; like I said, it's probably healthy. I just want them to always be able to trust me. So I don't lie to them. If they want ice cream, I tell them that ice cream is an unhealthy treat and we haven't had lunch yet. If I destroy their favorite blankie in the washing machine by accident, I say that Mommy is very sorry but that an accident happened in the washing machine and we're going to have to get a new blanket. And the big one: If Zeke comes home from preschool and tells me that Santa Claus is going to visit our house this year, I don't exactly disabuse him of the notion, but I don't agree with him either. I say, "Oh, do you think so? What kind of presents do you think he will bring?" This maybe is a fine line, but I know exactly where the line is, and I won't cross it. If he ever asks me flat out if there's a Santa Claus, I'm telling him the truth. He can get the fake story from every other adult, and that's fine, but from me he gets the truth, and that is how it is always going to be. I never want him to question that.
It probably doesn't make up for my short fuse or lack of patience or complete and utter inability to ever find the kids' mittens when it's time for preschool, but it's one thing I hold onto.
Posted at December 9, 2005 12:23 PM
Posted by: PattM at December 9, 2005 12:55 PM
I agree with the line you've drawn. There's a big difference between encouraging a child's imagination and lying to them. My mother fed me tall tales disguised as truth for years and I've vowed not to do the same to my children.
Posted by: Lynda at December 9, 2005 1:25 PM
I think that the Santa stuff is lying by omission. I lie to my kids - not about things like what happens when the cat dies, why I don't want you taking your shoes off on the way to the grocery store, etc. Things like Santa, why Grandma has been in bed all afternoon, why we have to leave the mall because your sister has started her period and needs a change of pants. Lies. I embrace them. I also also believe that being able to tell social lies is a skill that kids need to develop. The weeks of drama they can save themselves by telling a clasmate that they can't go to her party because they have been grounded for being mean to her sister instead of the truth (can't stand the girl) are well worth it. Yes, Grandma - I loved the book that you sent me - can be a lie that makes an old lady feel better. The well-placed lie - like the well-placed bribe - is a thing of beauty.
Posted by: Melanie at December 13, 2005 7:12 PM
Wow. Jan, I admire how you stick to your guns about being truthful with your kids. I know many moms that "shade" the truth for their kids. It is probably the hardest thing a parent has to do. My two youngest believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy (but not the Easter Bunny somehow)and I can't bring myself to tell them how it really is. I do tell them exactly why we cant eat out or have a sweet treat before lunch or why children die or pets run away. This will be the last year they believe in the Santa, but I hope they will always believe in the joy and hopefullness of the Christmas season.