We definitely try to live by the “honesty is the best policy” motto in our home.
But it doesn't always happen.
Ben came home very indignant from his 4 year appointment with the doctor.
"Mama, you said there wouldn't be any shots! And I got a shot!"
* Cue lower lip sticking out in a pout, arms crossed in a huff. *
When I called for the appointment I asked if there were any vaccinations this round. They told me "no."
Apparently his records showed that he missed a shot at some point and they needed to do it.
I felt bad and he felt betrayed. In this circumstance, I honestly didn't know.
But I admit, there are times when I’ve made slight adjustments to the truth with my kids.
There are the little fibs to avoid further requests or meltdowns.
The kind I say with a shrug like, “Sorry, you can’t have another granola bar they are all gone.”
And then there are the others.
A few weeks ago I mentioned that we were going to Sesame Street Live, which happened to fall during the Vikings/Cowboys game.
When the lights came up for intermission, I clapped loudly, stood up, and grabbed our coats.
“That was a great show wasn’t it guys?”
And we left.
The kids got to see plenty of the show plus t was nap time and they were getting restless. We avoided the parking ramp crowds, and I got home in time to watch the last quarter of the big game.
They were none the wiser.
Last year my husband had to work on Easter. We celebrated a week early with an egg hunt and baskets on Palm Sunday when we could be together as a family.
They were none the wiser.
My old colleague Deb, once took her young kids to Woodbury Days and told them they were at the State Fair.
She avoided the masses and the kids had a great time.
They were none the wiser.
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With the same line about "honesty is the best policy" in their home. Except that she is as honest as the day is long.
I e-mailed her. "Really I'm not copying your post. But why should you believe me? I've already admit that I lie."
And then I felt flush with guilt. Not necessarily about the Sesame Street or Easter incidents. They weren't overt lies. They were just, um, situational adjustments for convenience with good intentions and minimal adverse side effects. How do you like that for rationalization?
But the little white lies. Things like "we're out of granola bars. " Trust is eroded when they see the box the next day with four granola bars left in it. Mom wasn't telling the truth.
Bing! Light bulb - I am not modeling good behavior. Walk the walk, talk the talk. Don't be a hypocrite.
Who's none the wiser here? Me!
These little lies of expedience seem harmless — and used sparingly, they can be, so don't be too hard on yourself, says Victoria Talwar. But be careful of overdoing it. "Young children may never realize you lied," she says. "But if you lie on a regular basis, or to older kids, then they'll recognize that you're not trustworthy. You're also teaching them that lying is an appropriate strategy to avoid things they don't want to do."
Instead, try the tougher but more rewarding approach: honesty. Adele Brodkin suggests diverting your kid's attention ("Sorry, no Pokémon cards today. So, did you finish painting that dinosaur in school?"). If that doesn't work, offer a succinct explanation without being drawn into a discussion about it ("You've had macaroni twice this week, so choose either chicken fingers or the soup"). You may have to suffer through a few public meltdowns, but ultimately your child will accept it and, more important, you'll promote the fact that honesty is your family's best policy.
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Ok, fess up, what lies have you told your children?
