truth be told

as many similarities our children share, there's one area where they could not be more different -- and never has it been more painfully obvious than this week.  it was one of those times when you think, surely there is a happy medium out there somewhere, but Lord knows it ain't in our offspring.

liam has never once, in his six and a half years on this earth, told a lie.  i don't think he could do it if he tried -- it's almost as if his mouth can't form the words to utter a mistruth.  don't get me wrong; that's a good thing.  we can always trust him and that speaks volumes about his character.  but i've started to wonder if he's almost too honest.  i recently had a conference with his AG teacher, who pulls him out twice a week in a small group for math enrichment.  it is a true privilege and one that we know he's fortunate to have, as most elementary schools in our district don't even have an AG teacher for grades younger than third.  he does well and thoroughly enjoys it, but i was disappointed to hear at this conference that he goofs off from time to time.  the rest of the group are all first grade boys and i think it's a case of him trying to impress them in his immature kindergarten way, but who knows.  the reasoning doesn't even matter.  what does matter is that he's abusing this privilege and his behavior must improve.  so i had a heart-to-heart with him and he agreed that he could do better.

on wednesday afternoon, it was pouring down rain so i decided to surprise the kids with a visit to our club.  the children's activity room is open at 4 pm and i planned to work out while they enjoyed some downtime -- susanna always brings some art activity, and liam makes a beeline to the wii.  (and we all know how obsessed our son is with the wii.)  it's something they both request every day, but because of my recent back problems i've been forced to stay away from the treadmill and weights.  so when i informed them that we'd be going, liam quite literally started jumping up and down with glee.

and then, as we were shrugging on our raincoats to head out the door to the car, he looks at me with a dejected sort of look.  and before i could even ask him what was wrong, he blurts out, "i was so silly today in my math group and my teacher had to call on me three times and i just can't believe i did that."

whew.  honesty.  at that moment, i almost felt like it was overrated.  because i couldn't, in good conscience as a parent, be dealt that news and then reward him with a chance to play the wii for a half-hour.  we made a 180 degree turn back into the laundry room, shut the door behind us, removed our raincoats ... and wailing ensued.  sobbing to the point that he almost couldn't breathe.  i felt conflicted; how could i punish my son for being honest?  but it just didn't feel right to ignore his misbehavior just because he had done the right thing hours later.  another heart-to-heart followed, and then, a letter addressed to his teacher, apologizing and promising to do better.  and the whole time i'm watching my sensitive, regretful little boy labor over his note, i marveled at the fact that he didn't have to tell me.  i wouldn't have known otherwise.  but he felt such guilt and remorse that he felt he had no choice but to come clean. 

fairly promising story, right?  pat on the back for mom and dad, for obviously doing some mighty fine parenting to raise such an honest kid, right?  oh, sara.  not so fast.

on thursday, i picked up susanna at a friend's house, where she had gone for a playdate immediately after preschool.  i noticed that her cute black and white gingham top was paired not with the black leggings she had left our house in that morning, but some brown pants that weren't even hers.  i asked her why, and she gave me some dismissive answer about them getting wet on the playground.  it had rained the night before so it made sense.

and then i received an email from her teacher, letting me know that  -- oh, i hate to even document this -- our darling girl had decided it would be fun to drop her drawers behind the playhouse outside to relieve herself.  (i'll pause for a moment while that sinks in.)  apparently, she needs a bit more practice with her squatting technique.  ms. kathy said that susanna was so upset that she didn't press the matter, and just swapped out the bottom half of the outfit and left it at that.

it was time for another mother-and-child heart-to-heart.  but this one went far differently than the one i had with liam.  "tell me what happened on the playground on thursday when your leggings got wet," i asked her.

"oh, um, i splashed in a puddle," she replied, her eyes fixated on the dolls in her hand.

"hmm.  you'd told me earlier that the slide was wet."

her eyes remained downcast.  "oh.  well, actually ..." she trailed off.  "actually, i spilled water at snack time."

good gracious, i thought.  can i at least give her props for coming up with some viable explanations on the spot?  after it was obvious she wasn't going to come clean, i resorted to the age-old tactic: a threat.   "i guess i'm going to have to call ms. kathy right now and ask her," i said, and reached for the phone.

she finally looked up at me, eyes wide, and then she finally, finally, confessed.  i tried to make her see that what she had done wouldn't have been a big deal at all had she just told me the truth.  it was her dishonesty which was so troubling.  (it goes without saying that i'm already dreading her teenage years.)

in the end, i hope that all three of us learned our lessons this week.  i'm crossing my fingers that susanna learned it's best to tell the truth from the get-go.  for liam,if i'm realistic, i think that he probably learned that he needs to time his spontaneous confessions a bit better. 

and my lesson?  i learned that as soon as i'm feeling pretty good about how things are going in my child-rearing world, there's always something right around the corner to remind me that i have pretty much no clue what i'm doing.