An Age of Reason - and of Lies

It was certainly not the first lie she ever told, but it was the first Real Lie. The one where there was no doubt at all about whether what she was saying was true. She knew it was a lie and she was counting on me to believe it. I almost did.

I was tucking her into bed and asking about her 2nd grade homework, which she has been doing independently every day, almost without prompting. She said, very proudly, that it was all done. I pressed her with "really? How 'bout I check your English folder?" knowing that this was the homework she liked the least. "NO!" she shouted. "It's done! I did it! You don't have to look at it!"

And that's when I knew.

I opened the folder to confirm that nothing had been done. No sentences written, no handouts completed. The homework was as free of smudges and eraser marks as the day it left the copier.

Visibly sad and disappointed, in part because it's my job to look that way and in part because I really was disappointed, we had a long talk about lying and trust. How can I believe her in the future if I know that sometimes she lies? This played out over the next few days as I challenged her statements and she swore she was telling the truth. "I promise."

And then she did it again.

It's funny, because she is so reasonable these days. And when I say "reasonable" I don't mean that she's easy to get along with but more that she can be reasoned with. If you use logic she is able to follow along and to understand - and even agree (when it suits her). It's a remarkable and wonderful transformation from babyland to big girl territory. In the car after school she follows conversations between her older sister and me and gives sage advice like "don't get involved in that, you'll only get hurt" and "he probably has a crush on you, otherwise he wouldn't do that." She loves intrigue (unless it's intrigue about her) but she doesn't stir it up, she listens and applies reason to a solution.

It's quite fabulous and I feel like I'm in an age of reason. Not The Age of Reason, because I know that when puberty hits, reason will fly out the window like a foul ball. But it is An Age of Reason, one I am enjoying very much.

If only the price of reason wasn't being paid for in the currency of lies.

This morning I was getting out some plates for breakfast when I spotted a new, very dangerous addition to the plate cabinet: a shattered and jaggedly reassembled juice glass. 

It is her job to put the dishes away, this is how she earns her allowance. She is normally very careful, unless she is distracted by, say, Scooby Doo, and then sometimes accidents happen. And hey, sometimes accidents happen. When you break a glass in our house you get scolded but you do not get a time out.  Mostly I am worried for their bare feet and the dog and having to pull glass out of tender paws of all kinds. The idea that she would break something and hide it from us was, if not a total surprise, a disappointing one. Because in our house, when you hide something you did it counts as a lie. And we talked about lies, right?

So this time, after I vacuumed the kitchen and wiped down the counters looking for tiny fragments of glass, I sent her to her room. To think about it.

Later I asked her what she would do in my place. I do this every now and then even though I know this kind of role reversal is not truly possible for kids. I mean, without a job, mortgage,  baby-weight, in-law trouble, and a host of other RESPONSIBILITIES to jade you, how can one truly know what it's like to be a grownup? And if we knew, would we ever do it? Her answer was this: "I would tell myself not to lie because lying brings bad luck and your mother will be mad at you. But you don't have to say this to me now, because I already know it."

See? Totally reasonable, if a tad superstitious.

The Mister says "all kids lie, it's just a part of growing up" and I suppose he's right. But I was a pathological truth teller and still am, for better or worse. (Being a grownup sure would be easier if I was a better liar.) And I need to get this girl's lying thing under control during this temporary Age of Reason or I will be totally screwed during the up-and-coming Age of Insanity (aka Puberty).

Comments

[SteveB]

Wow -- good post, and not an easy subject at all. I do think that it's a normal part of growing up -- with parental and societal boundary pushing -- but teaching someone that balance and self-reflection... best of luck.

[kasey]

I second what Steve said. A beautiful post, such a difficult situation.

My favorite line was your reflection on the adult condition: And if we knew, would we ever do it? Sometimes I wonder.

Good luck!