I love the comments here. I love the community. I love that I can ask for advice and you all deliver. If you have no idea what I am talking about, you can catch up by reading yesterday’s post about my 7-year-old liar.
I picked up the kids yesterday afternoon and proceeded with the day as usual. I wanted the conversation with my little liar to be one-on-one and uninterrupted, which meant postponing it until the little boys were in bed.
However, I still intended to arm myself with some facts. While Jamis was doing homework in the living room, I tiptoed into the mudroom and opened up his backpack. What did I find? One stolen package of twistable colored pencils and the entire contents of a 64-pack of crayons pooled at the bottom of his bag. I pulled 6 Capri Sun pouches out of their box on the kitchen counter, filled it up with “the goods,” and went back to scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes.
Bath time came and went. Pajamas were donned. Books were chosen. And I was running on empty. Everyone is fighting one last cold winter cold (better be the last) and yesterday was my worst day yet. So I said goodnight to the kids and tucked myself in bed, too. Nope, I didn’t talk to him about. Not yet.
Before you tell me how disappointed you are let me just say that I really did want to be at my best when talking to him. Calm, approachable, and full of conviction. Last night I was none of those things. This morning, however, I was anticipating a conversation between us. I thought it might go something like this:
“Mom, where are the colored pencils and crayons that were in my bag?”
“We need to talk about those, Mister.”
“What do you mean?” Said with intended bafflement. The look on his face being anything but innocent.
But I didn’t want to get into it like that. And I didn’t know if I could bite my tongue. And I knew that I had a chance to plant a seed. So instead, this is what happened:
“Hey,” I grabbed his chin and tried to turn his face toward me. He assumed I was coming in for a hug and wrapped his arms around my waist. (My goodness, look how big he is.)
“Hey,” I said again, tugging his chin up toward me. “When you get home today we need to have a talk.”
It wouldn’t be like a boy, my boy, to ask, “About what?” right off the bat, but just to say, “Okay,” which is what he did.
“We need to talk about lying and taking things that you shouldn’t take,” I said calmly, very calmly.
He squiggled his eyebrows as if he had no idea of what I referred. And actually, it’s quite possible that he didn’t, and that he still doesn’t.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” I escaped a long string of questions and went back to my coffee and my morning emails.
About ten minutes later Jamis came back to me and asked what “things” I was talking about. This was instigated no doubt by the missing art supplies he must have noticed when he got his bag together for school. I refrained from explanation, however, and simply said for the second time, “We’ll talk about it later.”
I was calm and cool and downright sweet. I don’t think he was nervous or scared or felt he was in trouble, which is actually just the way I wanted it to be. A seed is planted and needs some patience to grow. I’m anxious to see if it left any impression whatsoever.
I have decided that I don’t want to scare the shit out of my child, but rather try and build that Circle of Trust that Amy brought to light in the comments of yesterday’s post. You know the Circle of Trust, right? Robert DeNiro in Meet the Parents? Oh it’s so brilliant. Maybe hokey and meant to be humorous, but really, it’s what we all want to feel at our core of cores. We want to trust others and we want to be trusted. Because life without honesty is shallow and perilous.
I hope for a happy ending to this saga. I hope I don’t have to start an entire series on Lying Kids. That would be unfortunate. (But it might also teach my kid a thing or two. Hmm. Ideas…) I vow to speak with Jamis about this before the weekend is over and I hope that we aren’t bumping into this same story again in another week or two. Making lasting impressions on my kids seems to be my most difficult task these days. Sadly, I don’t think that’s ever going to change, is it?
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The good news is you know your kid better than anyone (including himself) and that means your strategy will likely be just what he needs. The bad news is he might not learn the lesson just yet … but if you’re planting seeds, then with patience and nurturing, they will grow — and one day you’ll realize you got it right (or as close to right as a parent can be).
I am not disappointed in you. Why would I be? Even if you don’t talk to him for a week, it really is none of my business. Besides, you know what’s best for your child. And, the fact that you took a break so that you could be calm and approachable is highly commendable.
As for Jamis? He knows. He is stretching his wings, figuring things out, and may even surprise you. Right? Hopefully in a good way.
No disappointment here. I know how hard it is when you are not feeling 100% to deal with good things, let alone difficult things. Do this when you are ready!
Thank you, ladies. On the one hand, I know I don’t owe you anything. But on the other hand, I feel like I owe you everything. And yeah, I can make sense out of nonsense…so what?
I love the idea that you planted a seed, and also – didn’t scare the shit out him. That’s a definite plus. And another smart move? Waiting until YOU feel better. I’d say you’re taking things one step at a time, and wisely.
Your approach sounds a lot like getting a kid to eat her peas. Keep putting them on the plate, keep mentioning them, keep prodding but in a subtle way. One day, she’ll finally hear you and she’ll eat them. A solid strategy through and through. Good luck this weekend!
i love this analogy. i never really thought about it like that, but isn’t that what we all do? we teach the same lessons over and over again and wait for our kids to *really* absorb them, not just have our words go in one ear and out the other.
I think it’s wise to wait patiently until you’re at your best (though I have to apply that standard to myself very carefully, or we could be talking retirement age). It’s not yet time for this sort of confrontation with my boy, but often wish I had the patience to wait for clarity and emotional distance before launching into a debate with my husband.
I love the planting-a-seed analogy. I’m vowing to remember that.
I find that a little time before a big debate with the husband is even more critical than with the child. My husband and I always try to wait for emotions to die down and clarity to rise before launching into our big debates. While we are not always successful, and have not always figured it all out before we talk, it definitely helps matters in the end.
I think it bloody inspired! Hope it goes well.
Sounds like an excellent plan! You’ve let Jamis know that you know that he knows that you know that he knows that you know that he did something wrong. And perhaps he’ll have some time to think about all this before you sit down and have THE TALK. Maybe he’ll even have a response for you, and it might even be, “I’m sorry. I know I let you down.” Good luck! I’m sure it will go well. Even if you have to tackle the issue again in a few weeks–I think I’ll still be reminding my daughter to say “Thank you” when she is my age!
HA! I’ve read the second line of this comment over and over again like fifteen times. It sounds really good. And there’s an update on the way that I think you’ll be proud of. Something tells me I’m going to start getting a whole lot better with the “disappointed mother face” thing.
Oooh your post brought back memories of ME as a kid! The whole….I know what you did and we’ll discuss later….. Always made me worried because I wanted to know WHICH thing I did that my parents found out about! Too funny – probably no the perspective you wanted to hear!
No, NO! I love this perspective. And I remember the feeling very well. Being on the other side now STILL feels bizarre.
good work! It feels right! Rest up and feel better. I think you need an afternoon off Sarah. SOON. Something restful and loving just for you. Because you are a great person and a loving Mama
I’m coming to your house for a bottle of wine (or two) when this thing is all done.
The worst thing you could have done was broach the subject when you were a) full of anger b) feeling emotional c) feeling sick. The conversation would never have panned out the way you wanted if you were any of those things. Waiting was the right idea. So, good luck and keep us posted!
You are so very wise, Sarah. I’m taking notes as this story unfolds because I love your approach. (And because I’ll probably need to give it a go soon myself…)
I’ve learned that lying is a stage some kids go through. I did because it was the only way I got attention for a while. My oldest did, briefly (her own guilt ended that phase very soon) but the worst was my son.
What we learned with his lying (some of which had devastating results) was that we had to remain calm, stay consistent, and be vigilant on the things about which he was telling the falsehoods. When he grew out of needing to tell the lies, we also had to teach him how to rebuild trust. That was even tougher than dealing with the lies. I wish I’d had the “circle of trust” metaphor then!
I would say this – the next time you encounter a situation of stealing, don’t set him up to also tell a lie. If you know he’s lying, don’t ask him, “Did you take the pencils?” You know he did it, and he knows that you know! But kids don’t want to disappoint their parents or get into trouble, so he’s going to lie. Don’t give him the opportunity. It will keep from compounding the problem.
He’s a good kid. He will come out of this phases and so will you. Just keep calm, reinforce the importance of trust and honesty, and he will get it.
Big hugs, momma.
This is brilliant, Natalie. “Don’t set him up to also tell a lie.” You are 100,000% right about this. That would just make me more angry and he’d get in more trouble. I will not ask, I will tell. This much I know right now. I don’t know what the punishment will be yet, but I know that the disappointment is setting in to his little brain. There’s a bloggy update on the way.
You are human. Thoughtful. A master of improvisation like the rest of us. I think you handled things gracefully. And I hope your talk goes well, that messages are swallowed and lessons are learned. This? This is one of the many maddening speed bumps all of us parents will face as our kids grow and time marches on. If only this parenthood business were smooth sailing. If only.
Looking forward to the conclusion of this mini-series. Any tips for getting them to retain what they’ve been told would be wonderful!
sigh. why did YOU get all the patience? i never think of good stuff like that.
we’re all going to be waiting to hear how The Talk goes..
**diabolical laugh** You let that Jamis sweat it, sister. You just did the roundabout version of “wait until your father comes home.” He knows that you know, and let him sweat it for a little bit. And he IS sweating it, even if he’s not showing.
The thing that makes me love you beyond measure? There’s no pat ending to this. You aren’t shitting violets. You don’t have some big old whopping happy, metaphysical wrap-up for us. Thank God, because there’s a lot of us out there who are parenting by the seat of our pants, grinding our teeth and crossing our fingers.
You are so amazing because you just bring things to the table like it is.
Thank. You.
From the bottom of this really pissed off heart, at almost 1am, awakened by a cat who just vomited up what I *think* is a dessicated Trident gum wrapper. That’s life, sista.
Oh Harryboy, stop pissing off your mama.
TKW, this is my absolute favorite comment from you evah!!!
Not because you compliment me (which you do–and I blush) but because I am always a bit insecure about the fact that most of my posts don’t have pretty, happy endings where I share some wisdom or knowledge I’ve learned as if I’ve got it all figured out. I have nothing figured out. I read posts all over the internet that sound pretty, read pretty, and finish pretty and I wonder what the fuck I am doing wrong. I don’t feel pretty in one little small little way. I am parenting by the seat of my pants, as you say. Grinding teeth, crossing fingers, looking for an alternative to prayer.
Parenting can’t be wrapped up in 500 words, 1500 words or an entire book. It’s why there ISN’T ONE, and why most of them fail to make big bucks. Because there is no one way to do it, there are no concrete answers. Parents, and their kids, differ under ONE ROOF, let alone all the roofs on a block or in a neighborhood, city or country.
Besides, even if I could shit violets I’m not sure I would even want to. Gold might just be better, oui?
I know it’s Saturday night and you’re probably out on a hot date, drinking Cosmos and kicking up your stilettos, HOWEVER, I wouldn’t want to LET YOU DOWN and forget to inform you that there’s a little update on my little liar. The saga continues…
Hurray for you and your self restraint…My Cuban mouth would have been all over him!!!
I like that tactic…I just might be using that strategy…but hopefully, not too soon…
P.S. Hope you and yours have successfully kicked that (last) cold to the curb!