I have only lied to The Bella once. And I still feel like shit for lying. She saw me take a drag of my best friend’s cigarette on the back porch one night through her bedroom window and when she confronted me I told her she was mistaken and that I didn’t want to hear anything else about it. Ugh. I can’t believe I did that. I did confess though, and apologize for not telling the truth.
Really, I don’t lie to my girls. I guess I don’t see the point in it. I’ve always taken pride in telling them the truth. There were two things I decided when I was a child that I would never do to my own children because I hated when they were done to me:
- Lie to them.
- Give them ‘because I said so‘ as an answer.
I’ve pretty successfully lived up to those nevers. I have a long path of parenthood in front of me in the future, I know, and I’ll probably fuck up, but I’ll forever make a conscious effort to tell the truth. What’s the benefit of the opposite?
I’ve apparently ‘taken away some of their innocence’ with my refusal to participate in Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy or even God because I can’t justify teaching them something that I believe, even if I don’t know for certain, is a lie.
The Santa thing was a serious fight between their father and I. And I gnawed my tongue bloody keeping my mouth shut last Christmas when his mother told Bella that her wagon was from Santa, only because I think J.’s other daughter still believes in it and she was there. I didn’t want to spill the beans to her, and for once I’m glad Bella kept her trap shut too. Still, Santa – what’s the point? They can’t have vivid imaginations or wonderful holidays full of wonder and material goodness without thinking some fat fuck broke into our house or that Tinkerbell and Donnie Darko’s conscious sneak around in the dark when they’re not paying attention? Psshaw.
J. didn’t like very much what happened when after the fight in January (<–that last one’s one of my best posts, I think), the restraining order was tossed out and I got my girls back after those long 6 days. The Bella informed me that he had said I was in jail all week because I couldn’t control my temper. I very plainly told her that that wasn’t the case: that I was in jail for a couple of days and afterward I wanted to see them but their daddy had made it so that if I tried to see them or even talk to them that I’d go back to jail. She was confused and hurt, but most of all [and it's how I know she's mine] pissed. He refused to talk about it when she confronted him. She didn’t let up for quite a while, not until I told her to just let it go, and that it was in the past. Of course I’d let her continue to pester him about it for a week to make him regret ever telling them that crap. He’d made the decision to be dishonest with them. I wasn’t going to cover his ass, or fluff anything up by breaking my own promise to myself, and to them.
The Bella won’t remember, I’m sure, at least I hope, that after my suicide attempt just before she turned 2 years old, that she asked me where I had been after I was released from the psych ward. I told her. I told her very plainly that I had taken a lot of pills so that I could die because I didn’t think that it was good for me to live anymore. And though I know she didn’t fully understand what it meant, and it did seem to frighten her, I felt it was the right thing to do at the time. I needed to make that confession to her, more than anyone. She was the one that would have lost the most if I’d succeeded. And I needed to explain it, so I did. I felt better after I did.
I think that my vow of honesty is a good thing. It keeps me accountable. It ensures, to just me, that I always put them first, because I try my damnedest to not do anything that would require me to lie to them. And with all the shit that’s transpired since The Bella has been born: between their father and I, that happens in day to day life in general – it’s created this bond between us, that they aren’t yet aware of, and it puts an iron clad armor around the innate sense of trust in each other that we already have. I think that my decision to keep it real, no matter how real, is the right one.
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November 13, 2008 at 4:38 am
They are so lucky to have you.
she will remember. as a friend, I don't know if that's good or not.
Although I feel differently about things such as Santa, Tooth Fairy, etc. (I don't see it as a lie but as part of the magic and innocence of childhood), I admire your decision and I even more, I admire that you stick to your guns. I think that telling the truth is important (in most cases) and hope that am able to maintain honest relationships and an honest life.
Here's my deal. I may not agree with everything you choose to do with YOUR children, but from the few archives I've read, and what I've picked up since lurking around here, I would really have to disagree with something major to presume to tell someone who has survived what you have anything. (Goddamn, that is the run-on sentence from hell!)
I truly believe that first and foremost, knowing that you are loved is the cornerstone to growing up feeling secure. As long as they know that, the other stuff works itself out.
I think you are absolutely right lady. Honesty really is the best because our kids can always see through all of the bullshit. You are an amazing mother and those little beauties will appreciated you more than they already do once they are older because the bond you are building will be absolutely unbreakable.
Trust. There are days I wade in a sea of regret wishing my own mother knew what that meant. Every day I work to trust her while at the same time trying to be the most honest person I can be, in spite of lessons never taught.
I see this in you. . . this honesty. It permeates nearly everything you do.
What you are giving your daughters is the ability to believe in others, to trust them and to be, themselves, honest people.
Such a valuable gift. Actually, invaluable . . .
You know what surprises me (perhaps most?) about being a parent?
That I DO say, “Because I said so.”
I never thought I'd say that. But I do.
And I mean it.
(Seriously, it freaks me out when I hear myself say it.)
For me, sometimes, with my kids…it's about the fact that I am The Mom. Sometimes, they just need to *trust* me, acknowledge that I am the one in control, listen to me because I've been around the block a time or three. Or twelve.
When I was a child (esp. as a teen), their were so many times that I *craved* someone to lay down the law…I had waaaay too much freedom. I was desperate for an excuse to reign in my behavior. At the same time, I was so proud of the fact that I had the liberties that I did.
And I feel SO freaking guilty that I perpetuate the Santa lie. But it is so much fun!
So, yeah…I am torn about my choices all. the. time.
November 13, 2008 at 9:02 am
I honestly don't think I've ever read anything you've written that I agreed with so completely. Half truths and fairytales, in my opinion, DO lead to a lack of trust. And if our girls can't believe that what we've told them is real and true, why on earth should we ever expect them to want to be honest with us? Once again, you have shown me your momminess, cuz it's not about what's easiest, it's about what you deem right.
You are amazing; I wish I had half your strength. Maybe I should stop telling the husband to keep quiet when he's about to spill over santa…
I don't really consider the ins and outs of parenting yet, although I guess I will once I am one. But some of the things you write here definitely are filed away for later use. this is one of them.
Bravo, you have indeed made the correct decision. As hard as it can be, it is correct.
I'm pro-Santa and the Easter Bunny because I think adding some fantasy like that isn't lying. It's just letting kids use their imagination.
You know, hon, you have to be honest with yourself. Be true to who you are. And if telling white lies or untruths isn't true to yourself, then I think I like you even more.
Though I actually DO believe in fairies… go ahead. Raise your eyebrows. :)
November 13, 2008 at 2:16 pm
If she remembers, that's ok. We'll talk about it then. I can easily tell her
that her sister was 10 days old, and the doctors said I had PPD, then
explain to her what post partum depression is. Although I really don't think
that's what it was. What the true test of my 'honesty vow' will be is what
I'll say when she asks how mommy and daddy met.
I totally do the Santa thing, and all the others. I understand where you're coming from, but I was brought up that way, and it did NOT lead to a lack of trust in my parents whatsoever. It didn't make me look at them like, “LIARS!”. I was more amazed that it took me so long to figure it out! (Also because part of me had wondered for a while, too…) I am crazy close to my mom, so it simply never affected our relationship – at least not in any negative sense. If anything, I can appreciate now, all those special, magical, silly things we did (cookies for Santa; carrots for the Easter Bunny).
Trust comes from knowing your parents will always be there – and seeing that, experiencing that, hearing that – all the time.
Otherwise, with pretty much everything else, I am totally honest with my kid – sometimes people think I am too honest. My main thing, though, is being consistent – because kids need consistency, too.
Blah, blah.
You're a good mommy. Obviously.
xo
November 13, 2008 at 2:17 pm
Yeah, um. You're gonna have to explain that one before you walk away. I
believe in aliens! :)
November 13, 2008 at 2:19 pm
J calls me a 'dicator'. I call it disciplinary consistency. He's one of
those parents where something is ok one day and not the next with does
nothing but confuse them, you know?
But yeah, I've said 'because I said so' a few times but always caught myself
and followed it up with a better explanation. *lol*
November 13, 2008 at 2:23 pm
Honestly? A lot of my anti-Santa stuff is that I don't want anyone else
getting credit for what I give them. *I* want those hugs when they unwrap
that toy they saw on tv that they liked. Selfish, selfish, I know – not in
the spirit of giving, but meh. *lol* Oh, and I was raised without Santa, so
I don't even know how to do it right. :P
Maria Young
immoralmatriarch.com
Hey this is weird because my mother tried to kill herself when I was 2 and she had to go away for 3 months. There's a lot of suffering in there, you know? But in the end it made me awesome.
I think your consistency is great for your girls. I let mine have fairies and Santa and the Easter Bunny. I don't remember every believing in any of that and I guess I wondered what it would have been like to have that fantasy as a kid. Of course if fairies are real then monsters are real and we have nightmares in this house so now I'm rethinking the whole thing!
That decision will probably be one of the best things you've done for your girls. They will know they can always count on you and will carry that lesson forward in their own lives. Nicely done.
See, I think total honesty with anyone, including our kids, is kinda over-rated.
But that's just me.
I DO love that you're clear on your own philosophy and I think your kids are going to love that about you…
You know my mom was too honest with me. She told me everything too soon she THOUGHT I was old enough and strong enough to handle it. What it lead to was me taking on way too much at a young age and being stressed and feeling like I had to protect my mom and dad. Ultimately to keep from hurting them, I never told them I was molested. And I often put myself in the middle of their arguments which would pit me against on parent over the other. I later would feel responsible for my father's drug addiction and any small thing he did. It was too much honesty..
I do not like to lie to my son either, and have had to be brutally honest a couple of times in regards to his father. Without writing a novel here, I'll try to keep it brief. I divorced him when my son was 2. It was NOT amicable. Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about him. My son knows this becase he asked me if I liked his dad. I made it clear that just because I don't like his father, it is OK for him to love him. I couldn't lie to him and pretend to like his Dad, because I know he sees and feels the tension when I pick him up from visitation – not to mention the contempt in my voice when I have to speak to him. He knows what lies are – he catches his dad in them often and will tell me when I pick him up. “My Dad lied again.” He'll never be able to say that about me.
You know, that's your choice, man. They're your kids. If you don't want them to believe in Santa or any of that, then they don't have to.
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