by Betsy McMillin

The other day I was singing to my two-year-old, and my oldest was listening.  When I finished she said, “Those aren’t the words to that song” to which I explained that yes, those were the real words. I had made up other words when I’d sung it to her years ago to fit the situation. She sighed as she walked away and said humorously, “Life is just one big lie.”

There are many times we, as parents, need to lie to our kids.  Knowingly, blatantly lie. While making up words to a song doesn’t necessarily qualify as lying in my book, many things I say do.

Too often we lie about fairies, holiday characters and other fancy, fun stories. Are we doing this to carry on family traditions, or to make childhood more magical? Or make life easier for us?

In many ways, I want nothing more than for these lies not to be lies; I want them to be absolute truth. I look earnestly with my girls for fairies, truly hoping that some magic will happen. While my husband and I are the ones to buy and put the presents under the tree, I believe in the spirit of Santa, as well as the giving and magic of the holidays. Although I must admit now that I have older kids who are are privy to the truth, it feels funny and just plain wrong when I tell my little ones about Santa or the Tooth Fairy, the older ones standing by, witnessing my lies. It makes me uncomfortable, downright creepy. Perhaps my feelings are an indicator that what I am doing is wrong?

I can’t call these lies necessary evils, because while I do believe it is necessary to lie to our kids at times, it isn’t always an evil.

Some experts argue that are kids need to trust us, and by lying we are undermining that important trust.

I have to counter with: what about just making it through the day? Sometimes we tell lies without giving it a second thought, in order to keep our delicate sanity:

“Oh darn, look at that… Toys R Us is closed!”

“Oooo, shoot, there are no new batteries for your Never Stop Talking Tommy Doll.”

The lies slip out so effortlessly it is scary.

We also lie out of a need to be a better parent, yet not wanting to deal with all-out meltdowns:

“Sorry… we’re all out of Spider Man chewies, how about a plum instead?”

“No, you can’t go to the all night teen party; we’re going away that weekend.”

Now, quick, either plan a legitimate get-away, or “fake” plan one and cover with another lie, conveniently after it is too late the attend the party: “Oh, sorry, those weekend plans fell through.”

Other times, we have a difficult situation to deal with, one that we know will weigh heavily on our kids. At these times we don’t always lie, but tend to not tell the truth, to keep secrets as long as needed. These can include such life changing issues as a parent losing a much needed job, a difficult move, death or divorce (see The Parent Trap, July 10, 2011).

Sometimes we lie to protect our kids from pain. This isn’t always the best idea. How many stories have we heard of parents secretly replacing a dead goldfish or hamster?  Keeping the truth from kids in these situations is keeping them from learning to deal with everyday life situations—situations they need to be confronted with on occasion, need to learn how to best deal with the emotions and coping mechanisms that come with the truth.

My kids have had to face the deaths of many pets over the years. Not in a million years would I lie about that. As sad as it was, it was an excellent teaching opportunity and a way to understand feelings, life in general as well as to begin to prepare them for more profound deaths that will, without fail, face them.

When we choose to lie in order to skirt a difficult topic with our kids such as drugs, sex, strangers, etc., we are closing the door on an opportunity to have a much needed, crucial conversation.  When our kids come to us with questions, they are most likely ready for some answers.  It is time to listen carefully to the question and answer appropriately. Be aware too, that if they don’t get an answer from you, they will probably go elsewhere for an answer. Quite possibly a skewed, incorrect answer or one you didn’t want them to get (TMI).  If you aren’t comfortable or well informed on how to answer questions, quickly do some research before you lose the window of opportunity.

For tips on how to take to your kids about important topics, check out:
http://www.childrennow.org/index.php/learn/talking_with_kids/

While it is difficult to be honest with our kids about difficult topics, it is part of our job, part of readying them for life and situations that life will hurl their way.  If we don’t give them opportunities to confront uncomfortable truths, they won’t learn how to handle them.

I find myself facing this with my own kids more and more as they grow older.  It isn’t as easy to hide the truth (i.e. lie); older kids can read us more easily, and have a better understanding of the complexity of life and its problems. They can also digest and face truths more readily than our little ones. They may not like it much, or want to face it, but they get it.

Awhile ago I had to tell my 14-year-old and 12-year-old that they most likely would be switching schools, and not for the better.  I didn’t want to tell them; I wanted them to have a fun, stress-free summer with few worries. I knew it would weigh heavily on my daughter’s mind and be very upsetting to her especially. I made the difficult choice to tell them early, to give them time to prepare, to let them digest the information and deal with it.

Life is going to be full of unhappy news.

Let’s not forget that many times our lies catch up to us and bite us in the butt, right in plain view of our kids. I had a parent tell this story:

The family was moving to Switzerland for a short time and mom was hoping to use this time to usher in some healthier eating habits. Her daughter loved marshmallows and ate too many. Mom told her that now in Switzerland, there would be no more marshmallows: they don’t have them in Switzerland. First night, they were to dinner at a friend’s house and what was served for dessert? Drinks with marshmallows on top. Daughter was stunned, yet very pleased. Mom? Totally busted.

The kicker when we fib to our kids? It teaches them that lying is what we do when we need to and then they, in turn, lie to us.

A quote from a piece about the subject that appeared in nymag.com:

When adults are asked to keep diaries of their own lies, they admit to about one lie per every five social interactions, which works out to one per day, on average. The vast majority of these lies are white lies, lies to protect yourself or others, like telling the guy at work who brought in his wife’s muffins that they taste great or saying, “Of course this is my natural hair color.”

Encouraged to tell so many white lies and hearing so many others, children gradually get comfortable with being disingenuous. Insincerity becomes, literally, a daily occurrence. They learn that honesty only creates conflict, and dishonesty is an easy way to avoid conflict. And while they don’t confuse white-lie situations with lying to cover their misdeeds, they bring this emotional groundwork from one circumstance to the other. It becomes easier, psychologically, to lie to a parent. So if the parent says, “Where did you get these Pokémon cards?! I told you, you’re not allowed to waste your allowance on Pokémon cards!” this may feel to the child very much like a white-lie scenario—he can make his father feel better by telling him the cards were extras from a friend.

It is a slippery slope. Am I going to stop lying to my kids? I would love to lie to you and say yes, but I fear my lying will continue. Not hurtful, vindictive, messy lies, but rather lies to just make it through a shopping trip. Toys R Us is still closed? Right? Of course right.