My kids lied. Both of them.
I hate admitting that but it came up this week in a way that I’ve not seen before and I find myself moving between feeling hurt, frustrated, and fearful. Last Sunday, LaChan decided that she was going to forgo church in order to attend to some things in the house that would get done a lot faster with the rest of us gone. However, I told both the kids they were coming to church with me. Avery, usually one of the first awake on ANY morning, was on task. He ate his breakfast. He brushed his teeth. He got dressed. And, Nile didn’t give me any indication that she didn’t want to go to church. In fact, she responded pretty affirmatively if I remember correctly. Clearly, I misread and/or she had other plans. So, without my knowing, she makes her way down to the kitchen to fix her breakfast while I’m upstairs. She asks her mom (who didn’t realize I told Nile to get ready for church), “Mommy, can I stay home and help you?” I think LaChan gave her a “tentative” yes. I came downstairs to fuss at Nile because she was moving too slowly. I began my weekly, “We don’t EVER get anywhere on time” rant. As I was reminding Nile of how S…L…O…W she moves, LaChan looks at her and says, “Nile, how come you didn’t tell me your dad already said you were going to church?” *Radio silence with no eye contact* (This chick was trying to play us!) There was a time when everything that came out of Avery’s mouth was the truth. This brother NEVER mixed words. LaChan: Avery, do you like your food? Avery: This is NASTY! Me: Avery, you like my haircut? Avery: Daddy, your haircut makes you look like you’re bald. We attribute some of his candor to his diagnosis. He doesn’t care to filter his sentiments and communicates pretty openly and honestly. Things have always been black and white with Avery. This week, though, he was caught punching his sister in her leg and he straight up lied about it. And here comes the mediation: Me: Nile, did Avery punch you in the leg? Nile: Yes, he was punching me and I… Avery: (yelling) NO, I DIDN’T! Me: Avery, be quiet. I’m talking to Nile right now. Nile: I was saying, I don’t know why he was punching me. Me: Avery, were you punching Nile? Avery: No. *pause* Me: Avery, it’s not good when we don’t tell the truth. I’m going to ask you again and I want you to tell me the truth. Were you punching Nile? Avery: I WASN’T punching Nile. Nile: Why would I lie?! *in my head, I was thinking, because you just tried to manipulate me on Sunday, girl!!...I didn’t say that though* Me: Nile, I’m not talking to you right now. Avery, I’m going to ask you one more time. If you don’t tell me the truth, you WILL NOT test for your new belt this weekend. Were. You. Punching. Nile.? Avery: (smirking) Um, yeah, I think I did punch her. I popped him in his mouth. Twice. Then I told him that he owed his sister and me an apology. *In retrospect, I guess I should have made him apologize first and then pop him. But hindsight is always 20/20, right? I’ll remember that next time* He apologized and made his way upstairs to take a shower before bed. I was frustrated, and in that frustration I wanted to blame other influences that might encourage my kids to not be truthful. But, my counseling instincts got the best of me and realized I probably needed to turn inward vs. outward. You know, use some “I” statements. What’s at the root of when I find myself wanting to manipulate or lie? Usually, it’s because I’m hiding something of which I’m ashamed. And it’s usually pretty STUPID stuff. Like, LaChan: What’s your ETA? Me: 5 minutes *I’m really like 20 minutes away, but I don’t want to admit I left later than I was supposed to leave…You know how this goes* As stinging as his comments can be in response to a question, I don’t want my son to lose his capacity to be brutally honest. I (most times) appreciate and admire that quality he possesses. I really need to take stock of what I am doing, saying, and/or communicating that creates a barrier for him or her to telling me the truth and being transparent. My kids’ successes and failures at this point in their lives are SO MUCH MORE ABOUT ME than about them. I guess that’s why fatherhood is always under (re)construction.
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AuthorI'm Mike. If you have an interest in mental health, family functioning, and disability advocacy, this blog may be of interest to you. Archives
January 2016
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