I know, I know. Lying is NOT (typically) okay. Even white lies can hurt someone’s feelings, and I pride myself on being a very honest person. I can easily spin a hurtful phrase into a positive one, instead of lying.
Friend is wearing an unflattering top? “Oh, it’s not bad, but I like the pink one better.”
Not thrilled with that friend’s latest boyfriend? I can help her figure out what makes her happy and focus on those characteristics.
I have no problem telling a friend that I need to catch up on sleep instead of spending time with her or that I already made plans with someone else. I won’t say “I’m sick” only to later be caught having coffee with another friend. Honesty. Yep, I got this.
Well, I HAD this.
Then I became a mom. All of the above still applied, but I found myself starting to feel more comfortable with lying – about the things that I didn’t think really mattered, and particularly to fellow moms who were being judgmental.
“Did your daughter eat any fruit yesterday!?”
“She sure did! I ordered her one of those fruit bouquets, with 6 different types of mango, and I just let her go to town.”
“Did your daughter nap yesterday? She seems so cranky.”
“Oh yeah, she slept for 6 straight hours. I think she’s coming down with the, uh, bird flu.”
“You really shouldn’t let her watch any TV at this age.”
“We don’t even own a TV. We have a communal entertainment bowl, and at family-gathering time, we pass around a ‘performance stick.’ Each member of the family must pull out a scene from U.S. History and act it out. Last night, I got “The Boston Tea Party!” It was pretty great.
“Wow, your daughter has a lot of toys.”
“Um, we won a shopping spree at, like, a toy store.”
Did I mention that I’m also a horrible liar? Those are huge, silly, exaggerated whopper lies (that, truthfully, I’ve never told), but I have uttered the occasional, “Yes I have,” when I had not, the “Sure, I will,” when I knew I wouldn’t, and the, “Oh, it’s fine,” when it certainly was not.
My (probably lame) excuse: I work 9 hours at a full-time job, while my daughter spends 7 hours at a nature-based-curriculum preschool. Yay for that! Then I have her for 7 hours before bedtime (yes, she goes down at 9 or 10pm most nights), and I start my part-time work then, try to get 5 hours of sleep, and start over the next day.
Who cares how much fruit my kid eats or how long she naps? She’s a healthy eater, we’re working on a healthier sleep schedule, and YES she sometimes watches TV in the afternoon. But we also ride bikes, take hikes, go to the park, play board games, and make up songs.
It’s not really about telling an untruth, being purposely manipulative, or even trying to make myself look better as a mom. It’s about avoiding a pointless conversation. It’s a time-saver, really.
Is it moral? I used to think it wasn’t, but now I don’t know. I’m still too busy to question it.
I’m steering my ship in this mom-storm, so to speak. I’m careful not to lie in front of my daughter. She hasn’t experienced this level of parental desperation yet, in the face of extreme time constraints and peer pressure.
A friend of mine once confessed, what she felt was a harmless lie, to her therapist. He said, “You’re not really lying, you’re just surviving.” Her intentions were good and self-preserving. I find comfort in that.
I’m just navigating this parenting journey one day at a time – taking shortcuts, making pit stops, driving in circles sometimes, but oh, what an amazing trip!
And, you know what else is amazing? Being in a state of “I don’t know.” It’s a familiar territory as a parent. Should I have given my toddler a tiny square of chocolate an hour before bedtime? I don’t know. Well, I didn’t know. I know now that you do NOT do that. Even if she is pleading at you with those beautiful, brand-new, baby-brown eyes that you fell in love with the very day she was born. Even if she is promising to be your best friend and love you “forever,” which I can only assume means through those horrible teenage years that everyone warns me about: Do Not Give In. The next 2 hours of bedtime will be like trying to put a 42lb-cat, high on cat-nip, into a cat carrier.
