Why I lie to my kids

I can just hear the inner monologue now…WHAT?! She lies to her kids?! What kind of parent does that?!

Um, just about every parent I know or have known.

Just the other morning, I dropped my son off in his class at church and he turned and said, “When will you be back?” “In just a few minutes” I said. (LIE!)

As his big brown eyes looked up at me, his little voice said, “What time is it now?”

“Almost 9 o’clock.” I responded.

“And what time will you be back?” he asked.

(By this time the line to check in was growing and our conversation had intrigued several who were waiting.)

“A little after 10:00 Darling. It won’t be long.” I said.

“That’s more than a few minutes!” he exclaimed.

Not knowing what else to say, or how to escape the trap in which I had just been caught, I pulled him to the side and knelt down so that we were eye level.

As my 5 yr. old pulled on my arm saying, “Let’s GO mommy! I wanna go to my class!” I knew I couldn’t miss this opportunity to keep it real with my youngest.

“You’re right, son.” I said.
“It’s actually going to be about 75 minutes.”

“Oh. Okay.” he said. And went running back into his classroom.

I was still kneeling on the floor when I looked up to see pity in the parental gazes coming from my onlookers. “It’s not as if YOU are always honest with YOUR children?!” I thought to myself in a very loud thinking voice. You know the one.

So, I head upstairs with my 5 yr old to drop him off at his class, still a little bewildered by the fact that my 3 yr old just called me out.

As I was waiting in line, a first time visitor was being escorted to the front so that she was able to drop off her child and tell them good-bye.

He runs into the classroom and I hear her say, “BY HONEY! Mommy will be back in just one minute!” (LIE!) I was thinking to myself, that kid will be lying on a shrink’s sofa one day explaining how it all started when his mother said she would be back in one minute and did not return for over an hour.

Photo Credit Freelance Folder
A little dramatic, I know! But I wanted to make her just as bad as I was. I wanted her to be a liar too!

Here’s the deal…this may seem like such a small thing to you. And for those of you still reading, hopefully this will make some sense.

It is a meaningless comment/exaggeration of the truth. UNTIL your 3 yr old calls you out on it!

It started a process of personal inventory. Which if you have ever done this, it is no small feat.

Instead of pointing at the lady in front of me and taking her inventory, which I knew nothing about, mind you, I was forced to look at myself.

What other things do I lie about?

Some of you will not have to be so introspective. For me, my sanity not only relies on this kind of honesty, it requires it.

Photograph : http://www.risesmart.com

I was a liar for a long time, so when I catch myself telling anything that even appears to be a lie, it scares me a little. If it looks like a lie, smells like a lie and sounds like a lie, well, it’s a lie.

Does this mean I’m going to tell my children all of the ridiculous things I did and poor decisions made while growing up. No. Does it mean that I will be one of those parents who says, “I never actually inhaled.” No. I don’t want to be that either.

SO, there is a fine line between truth and TMI.

What is it though?

No…really…I’m asking you…WHAT IS IT?!

I don’t know! I believe it depends on the person, the extent of the information and the age of the child.

Am I justifying my actions? Probably. I tend to do that when I want to feel okay about doing something that I’m not sure is okay to do.

Many studies have been done on how children develop and the way their minds work. It is said that a child 6 yrs or younger does not have the ability to reason. Hence the phrase, “7 is the Age of Reason.”

There is a great article titled “The Truth About Lying” and in it, the author says,
From about age 4 on, children lie for many of the same reasons adults do: to avoid punishment, to gain an advantage, to protect against an unwanted consequence, and even to boost self-esteem. Youngsters, like adults, sometimes lie to demonstrate power, to maintain privacy, or to protect a friend. When a child lies, she is essentially trying to change a situation, to reconstruct things the way she wants them to be. (Hmmm, at times I still do this.) There is a developmental progression to lying.

Helping your child develop morality and responsibility for his actions over the long haul is the goal…
Model the behavior you expect to see in your child. (
I thought I was doing that?!) This sounds obvious (YES, it does!), but it involves monitoring when and how you lie — not an easy task (NO, it isn’t!). If we want to foster a trusting, self-regulating child who cares about his own welfare and that of others, we have to do it the hard way: by being trusting, self-regulating, and respectful adults.” (Ouch!)

Why then, you ask, did I take the time to reason with my 3 yr old? Well, because I think he deserves to know the difference between a few minutes and 75.

All children are different. Mine was content hearing an explanation.
Do I recommend this when he is in mid tantrum. Nooooooooooooooooooooo. But when he is calmly asking for an explanation, I’m going to give him one, whether an “expert” tells me he understands or not.

So, I leave you with no answers today. Only questions.

What are the lies you’re telling your kids and where’s the line?

Just to make you feel better and not leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth and that befuddled look on your face. To get us started, here are a few of the lies that I can remember telling my kids in the last week (give or take a few days). 

What I said:
Play land is closed today (at McDonald’s)
What I meant:
There is no way you are going to play in there! Ew. I’m sure they don’t crawl through all of those tunnels and clean it once a week. I wouldn’t.

What I said:
Mommy is going to take a break and have some quiet time for a few minutes.
What I meant:
Mommy is going to go upstairs, close the door, take some deep breaths while listening to songs on Pandora, none of which will have rhymes about counting or the alphabet.

What I said:
We will go outside in 10 minutes.
What I meant:
When I finish what I am doing, then we will go outside. I’m not sure how long it will take.

What I said:
Mommy is going to run an errand. It will only take a minute.
What I meant:
You’re going to stay here with daddy while I get in daddy’s car (instead of the minivan), roll down the windows, open the sunroof, turn up the music and sing at the top of my lungs while driving around the neighborhood.

What I said:
No honey, this is special mommy chocolate. Boys don’t eat this kind of chocolate. It’s only for girls.
What I meant:
I don’t want to share this chocolate with you. I made a special trip to Whole Foods to buy the good stuff (translation: 70% cacao and imported) and you don’t know the difference between this and a Hershey bar. Besides, I have given up alcohol, so I should not have to share my chocolate.

What I said:
It’s bedtime!
What I meant:
It’s been a really long day and you didn’t take a nap. I know it’s an hour early, but since it’s getting dark earlier, you don’t know whether it’s bedtime or not and I want some “me time”.

Now, do you feel better about yourself? You should. I have a lot of work to do! No wonder my children have no concept of time!

Ransomed

 “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free, my God, my Savior has ransomed me. And like a flood, His mercy reigns, unending love…Amazing Grace.”

9 years ago today, with the help of those who love me, I stepped off the crazy train. Well…fell off would be a little more accurate.

I FINALLY hit bottom.

Battered and bruised in every way imaginable, I had to learn how to stop fighting everyone and everything.

I am a believer that one hits their bottom only when they decide to put the shovel down and stop digging.

I no longer question those who choose to hold on to their shovel, at times, even lying down with it in the hole they have dug. They are beyond all reason.

I don’t take on their shame either. I used to. Maybe that’s a sign of growth? I sure hope so. It’s about progress not perfection, yes?!

What may look to others like an obvious reason to stop the insanity in one’s life, isn’t always the “final straw” so to speak, for the one who is temporarily insane.

Some will never find their grasp on reality again and will therefore eventually lose their life to, what I consider to be, the ego.

Surrender is a difficult thing for some of us.
It can be painful and raw.
We hold on to control for as long as possible, even when it is obvious that we have no control at all.

It has not been an easy road. Chris would agree. 
However, Cleaning up the wreckage of my present, on a daily basis is a whole lot easier than cleaning up the wreckage of my past. It’s a daily reprieve. 

I don’t need easy, I just need possible. (My favorite quote from the movie Soul Surfer)

I had to learn how to live life. For those of you who have always faced life on life’s terms, this will not make a whole lot of sense to you. But maybe you have known, loved or even lost someone who this resembles.

For those of you who have ever run away, been a prisoner to fear or sought relief from reality in a less than healthy way, maybe you can relate to some of these everyday things I had to learn how to do.

Here are a few…

  • How to eat at a Mexican restaurant without ordering a margarita.
  • How to enjoy a concert without some sort of substance.
  • How to be affectionate with Chris without being completely self conscious. (I’m talking about hugging, holding hands, a kiss…not sex)
  • How to go out for sushi without ordering sake.
  • How to be honest about even the little things in conversation.
  • How to work out, or exercise at all, for that matter, without a stimulant to get me started.
  • How to fall asleep at night.
  • How to eat a meal without purging afterwards.
  • How to look at food as anything other than an enemy.
  • How to ask for help.
  • How to relax.

You get the idea…the list could go on and on.

I cried every day for a year.

A pathetic mess, wallowing in self-pity, regret and shame.
The first year was incredibly difficult for me, but also crucial to my recovery as a whole. Had it not been for Chris, and several others, including my dad, I’m not sure I would have made it through.

It takes so much to walk through this type of season with someone. Whether you love the person or not, sometimes love is not enough to weather the kind of storms that early recovery can bring.

I can say with all sincerity that I would not be upright, today, were it not for those incredible individuals who stayed by my side helping me find the motivation within to, scoop myself up off the floor, wash the dirt from my eyes and start living for something other than me.

The support they offered looked something like this (my words cannot do their actions justice, but here’s trying)

Where I was hollow, they saw depth.
Where I was weak, they picked up the slack.
When I was doubting, they reassured me.
When I was crouched in a corner in the dark, they came and sat with me while I sobbed.
When I spoke, they listened.
When I asked for direction, they advised me.
When I celebrated small victories, they were my biggest cheerleaders.

I didn’t have to wonder where God was in all of this, because I could see Him in the actions of those around me…taking care of me…being patient with me…encouraging me…forgiving me.
They have my eternal gratitude.

Chris did not “sign up” to fall in love with a girl like me.
God knew that Chris Cannis was the only man capable of capturing my heart in such a way that didn’t cage who I am.

He set me free.

He loves me with his palm wide open.

He says he knew, from the first day he saw me, that I was the one.

That was 10 years before he asked me to be his wife.

If I know what love is, it is because of him and everything he has taught me on this journey.

Remembering vs. Acknowledging

(This post was written on the 10th anniversary of that day in history that changed everything…)

While contemplating what my next profile pic will be for FB, this rush of self-awareness caught me a little off-guard.

“I did my part. I posted the American flag, even made it my profile picture for more than 24 hours and added some inspiring and well thought out statements about that awful day 10 years ago {now 11 years}. I cried on Sunday while watching the news channels rebroadcast that horrifying morning when minutes passed like hours. So now am I moving on? Did I remember or just acknowledge the happenings of that Tuesday morning? Did I truly honor the lives lost and impacted or did I do what I thought was “right” on a day when there were so many emotions?” I don’t know? Does it matter?

I think it does.

I’m the girl who has to constantly survey my motives in order to keep my ego in check. “Why am I doing this?” “Is it to make myself look better?” “Is it so that people will like me?” “Is it to get something that I think I am entitled too?” “Is it out of fear that I won’t go to Heaven if I don’t?” “Will this have a positive impact on anyone or am I speaking empty words followed by hollow actions?”

I would love to say that the answer to all of those questions is a resounding “NO.”
But, I would be lying.

To acknowledge something is not a bad thing…necessarily. It is recognizing that something has been or is.

Remembering, in my opinion, is reliving a moment…the way it felt and smelled and looked…it is taking time out to reflect and depending on the situation, give reverence to.

If I could give you a word picture this is what it would look like…
Acknowledge – Grey, forced, sterile.
Remember – Vivid colored streamers being waved around on those sticks (you know the ones), by people dressed in white linen with their hair flowing in the breeze, near the water, on a crystal clear day, with the sun reflecting off of the ripples.
(I didn’t give acknowledge a chance, did I? I’m just trying to give you a minuscule taste of how my mind works.)

I don’t want to just pick up where I left off on September 10th. I want to have a mental makeover. I want to carry the reverence for that day with me every day. I want the reminder that when this event occurred, I walked away thinking, “I want to do something that matters. I don’t want to just get by. I want to do something more.”

I want to remember until it hurts…until it evokes the kind of change in me that does not allow the lazy sentiment “Someone else will do it…If I don’t, someone will.” I want that someone to be me. And may all of the credit to go to my Savior, without whom, I could not draw another breath.

I would love to hear your thoughts on that day. On remembering vs. acknowledging. With all of the posts that will be going around today, what are your thoughts?
*Stock photos taken from google