I have recently met a new parenting challenge: my 8-year-old is telling white lies. She has told little fibs before and has also confabulated stories when she was a toddler, which I feel were developmentally appropriate. But this is different now. It seems like she can spew off lies all too easily to backtrack and protect herself. Jamie and I take it really seriously and call her out every single time, and she (and perhaps the entire neighborhood, depending on how loud we shout) is well aware that lying is not tolerated in our house. It is a punishable offense evertime. The meat of the lies aren’t really that big of a deal, but the quantity of lies is piling up and her she is losing credibility. Rather than turning to lies to saver her ass, I want her to learn how to take responsibility for herself and her actions, no matter the consequences. I know too many adults who can’t even do this, so I want to teach her now when she’s young and moldable. We just want trust-worthy kids.
Last week, we saw her playing with one of our old phones and watching a show. I asked her how she got the phone, and she said shrugged her shoulders. Jamie then asked if she took it out of my purse, which is exactly what happened, and she looked him right in the eye and said no. He confronted her on the lie, and she said, “Okay, I took it out of her purse. I didn’t want to tell you the truth because I knew you would be mad and I would get in trouble.” We gave her the business about how she has to be honest, even if it means she might get in trouble, and that lying is not okay no matter what, even to protect yourself. She seemed to have understood, or at least verbalized that she did.
The punishment I doled out was for her to pull weeds for the weekend. Now, these aren’t your typical weeds that are maybe ankle high. The weeds in our garden are meadow height, taller than a 2-year-old, tall enough where a small coyote could potentially be hiding. She did it though, not well, but she made a small dent in it (with my help) without a ton of complaining. Success! Or at least that’s what I thought until she told her next lie. I don’t even know what this next one was, but it was another case where she was back-pedaling to save her ass. I told her that if she continues lying, even if they are little lies, people will start to not believe or trust her. I said that if she wants to have a good, strong relationship with me, Daddy, Evan and any of her family or friends, she has to always be honest. So she earned herself another day in our garden of weeds.
Jamie and I are patting ourselves on the back, thinking we’ve given her some good lectures about lying and the importance of honesty and earning people’s trust through honest actions. Nope, not getting through to her. For her latest one, she was “sleeping” in her room, while Evan was throwing a tantrum downstairs. Jamie told Evan that if he wakes up his sister from all his crying, he will lose dessert and screen time today. Well, guess who magically gets up and finds herself downstairs. Evan ends up losing his privileges because he “woke her up.” Jamie then confronts Reese and asks her if she was already awake and heard him tell Evan about his potential punishment. She says no, and then the back-pedaling begins. At first she tells him that she was awake earlier and then fell back asleep, only to wake up to Evan’s tantrum. Jamie said, “Don’t lie to me. I’m an older sibling, I know what you were doing. Did you come downstairs so that he could get in trouble?” And there it is, her guilty smile, followed by over-explaining herself. Her story changes to, “Okay, I was awake, but I came downstairs because I wanted the crying to stop and I wanted to comfort him.” Ha! Dig that hole, girl, because that’s what you’ll be doing in the garden! By this time, Jamie was not having it anymore and laid the hammer down. But his hammer is very controlled, calm but stern, and incredibly rational and articulate. My hammer is broken and functions more similarly to a megaphone, so I let him take this one. The way he explained things was so freaking good that even I was thinking, “Damn okay, I’ll stop lying too!” Reese, on the other hand, falls apart anytime her sweet daddy is upset at her, and she began to cry uncontrollably and asked to be alone for a little bit to calm down.
After some quiet time alone in her room, Jamie went upstairs. I was eavesdropping in the bathroom, while Evan chose the more conspicuous route and sat right outside of her room to literally watch them. Jamie took the Aesop approach and busted out “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” Classic Jamie. After he told her the story, he explained it and had some follow-up questions for her to make sure she understood the lesson he was teaching. Then they hugged it out.
This father-child moment was so sweet and effective, but all I could do was laugh. This shit did not happen in my childhood, and I felt like I was watching a scene straight out of “Full House.” I grew up in a Filipino, Catholic household. And when I told lies, there was no Aesop fables. My parents went straight for the soul. My parents’ lectures sounded a lot like, “Lying is a sin, and if you tell lies, you will go to hell. Do you want to go to hell? Just remember, God sees everything. You’re going to confession next week.” I’m shocked I never heard my parents say, “You know what happened to the boy who cried wolf? After the wolves ate him, he went to hell.” Very different approaches, but you just have to laugh.
I hope the lying stops for while because I’m tired of giving the same lecture. I know there will be bigger lies as the kids get older, the ugly lies about sneaking out, curfew, drinking, or inappropriate behaviors. My boss once told me that when her kids were younger, she had a policy in her home that if they told her the truth, they would not be in trouble. I absolutely love that policy, but it’s a really hard one to follow. It’s a goal policy that I have to work towards. But for now, mama has a garden of weeds that needs tending to. If you’re looking for my kid, that’s where she’ll be.
The Mundame 