The Lies We Parents Tell

The older my children get the better liar I become.  Parental lying, or fibbing if you prefer, is much different than when we lie to other adults.  I’m not condoning the practice or encouraging the process, but fibbing is a reality of child rearing whether we like it or not.  Children require us to become life’s creative embellishers when needed, usually making our jobs easier and their lives more interesting. 

 There are many kinds of whoppers that we parents tell.  For example, there is what I call the Little Green Fib (verses the white ones we all know.) This fib is used when the truthful explanation of an event or situation is too much for a young mind to handle.   When your little one asks why the neighbor’s dog died we tell him it was, “because God wants to play with him in heaven.”  It’s an answer that makes sense and hurts a lot less. 

 The Bad Behavior Fib, the most common lie used by parents, happens when we have run out of discipline ideas. These lies sound something like, “I’m gonna call Santa if you don’t stop it!  I’ve got his number on speed dial!”  I typically use these fibs starting on Labor Day all the way up to bedtime on Christmas Eve. 

 There is also Embarrassment Fibs which I’ve found myself using more and more.  This kind of lie is told when we want to protect ourselves or our children from the awkwardness of clearing up difficult questions like, “Mommy?  Why do you have two chins and my babysitter only has one?”        

Finally, there is the biggest of all fibs.  These fibs are grand, engaging, extraordinary fabrications that we actually find enjoyment in creating.  We get sucked into them because they’re fun and we remember hearing them when we were younger.  Yes, these untruths have been around forever and are reborn with each new generation.  They are known as the Holiday Fairy Tale. 

 Recently my oldest child asked, “Mom, where does the Easter Bunny live?”  I stood there at the kitchen sink and thought for a minute before answering.

 “He lives near Santa Claus.” 

 “But it’s cold there.  Does he live inside with Santa Claus?  Is he his pet?” 

This imaginative tale that I had attempted to give an easy answer to was going to require some creativity.  Never had I considered the Easter Bunny’s whereabouts the other 364 days of the year, but leave it to a four-year old to bring it up.  You see, we have elaborate stories about Santa Claus; where he lives and who lives with.  We sing happy songs about what Santa looks like.  We read book after book about the North Pole, his elves, his sleigh, and toy shop.  This legend has even grown so large that it has spun off huge fabricated sequels, (i.e. Rudolph) to continue to foster the belief in this false reality.    

The particulars of the Easter Bunny’s life, however, seem none existent.  All we really know about this famous rabbit is that he’s “hoppin’ down the bunny trail…bringing every girl and boy, lots of fun and Easter joy.”  That’s about it.  My child, however, was looking for concrete details and rightfully so considering the Bad Behavior Fib that I had used earlier when I said, “Your basket will be empty on Easter if you don’t stop it.”  I can’t say I really blame him for wanting some facts.

“You’re right.  It is too cold at the North Pole.  Uh-huh, well, when I said that he lives near Santa, I was talking about a place called…Iceland.  That’s right, Iceland.  And even though it’s called Iceland, well, it isn’t covered in ice.  No.  It is covered in lots and lots of green grass and the Easter Bunny lives there because there are lots and lots of places to hide his eggs.  And he has a big factory there that makes the Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies that go in your basket on Easter Sunday.”

I smiled at him, feeling confident that I had answered his question in an acceptable, fib-tastic manner. 

“How does he get them in my basket?  Does he come down the chimney?  How does he get here from Iceland?  Does he fly like reindeer?”

And this, my fellow creative embellishers, is how holiday lies breed.  Preschoolers can become masters of inventing question after question, causing you to sink further into your deception.  So as my child pressed for me to lie to him further, I had to make a decision.  Would I fess up and teach him a quick lesson in honesty or allow him to grow up believing the fairy tale? 

I arrived at my answer quickly.  Personally, I think I’ll stick to the storytelling.  Sometimes it really is more fun than the truth.   

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Mama Wants More
A column for today's mother who has it all and still wants more because you're a mother, a wife, a citizen, a consumer. You're unappreciated, underpaid, and over qualified for wiping bottoms & cleaning toilets. But this was your dream. This is what you always wanted. you love your life, but you still want more . Me too.