When I was 8, I told my friend Lisa that my mom was pregnant. She wasn't, but I thought it would be so great if it were true. Lisa figured it out in about 3 months and asked what happened, so I had to tell another lie about something happening to the baby.
Then when I was 10, I told her that I babysat for 16 kids all by myself at the park. I also told her that I had my own private helicopter that flew me to my dentist appointments in Iowa. Yes, I did think that sounded believable. There were some other lies scattered in those years about things like the size of my allowance and the number of boyfriends I had.
She reminds me of this whenever I get too cocky about what a cool kid I was.
Last night when she was over for our D'Angelo's Pizza date, I ran out to pick up Eva from Wednesday night church. Our friends stopped me to ask if everything was ok after the accident, and tell me how sorry they were it happened....um...hmmmm....there was no accident. But Eva told her whole class one whopper of a tale about an accident, ambulance ride, lots of blood, and time in the hospital.
The look on Lisa's face when I got home and told her was priceless.
Let me say that walking alongside my girlie as she wrestles herself into telling the truth is a humbling experience. She knows how to express her thoughts and feelings in words so well. Ryan and I said last night that circumstances like this one are why we make communication with our kids our most important priority from the time they're born. We don't play ball with them or enforce table manners or make them brush their teeth as often as we should, but by golly we make sure they know how to communicate.
I asked if she feels excited when she lies, and Eva said that instead it makes her "worry that my dreams will never come true". There's a word for that...guilt. She said that the lies are just inside her and they have to burst out. So we talked about what she could say instead or how she could come home and tell me the big story and we could celebrate how creative she is. She said she was so embarrassed that she told the accident story to her whole class. There's a word for what they'll show her too...grace.
It will all be ok. She knows its happening and she's working hard on it. I think she's creative and strong and brave. I remember walking in her shoes like it was yesterday. I now recognize clearly that we grown-ups should never underestimate the strength and stamina it takes for children to "learn their lessons".