Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Ya know, I’ve had to put up with a LOT of shit as a mom — catching puke with my bare hands, getting my dress flipped up in the middle of a crowded bank, and even having to scrub a red crayon-decorated window frame just in time for Mother’s Day.  Sure, my top might very well be about to blow, but nevertheless, I take it since that’s what parents do.  However, the one thing that absolutely burns my butt more than anything else is when my kids try to lie to me.

Now granted, I realize that sometimes, kids are just guilty by association, so I try my best to give them the benefit of the doubt.  Hell, I had my own fair share of misplaced finger pointing as a youngin’.  I remember one time that I totally took the heat for something that I didn’t even do.  My best friend was over at my house on our freshly stained deck in the backyard, when she spilled an entire bottle of tanning oil smack dab in the middle of the damn thing.  I knew that my dad was gonna flip his freaking lid, since he had put blood, sweat and tears into refinishing that deck.  And would you believe that my parents didn’t even give me a chance to explain MY side of the story?!  I was immediately blamed for effing up the wood and sentenced to one week of grounding.  I watched from the confines of my bedroom window as my friend happily played with the rest of the neighborhood in her false sense of freedom.  It was totally and completely unfair that she lied, and I was the one who had to pay the price.

There are times, however, when kids flat out lie straight to their parents’ faces.  And THIS is what makes me want to drop-kick a Webkinz or two.  Take, for instance, yesterday when my nose was immediately blasted with the overwhelming smell of fingernail polish when I stepped into my daughter’s room.  I must have asked her ten different times if she had painted her nails or anything else in the room, to which she innocently replied, “NO“, with a cute little bat of her big puppy dog eyes.  Every fiber of my being told me that the little shit was lying right through her toothless grin.  Plus, I have a wicked sense of smell so I knew that my nose, at least, was NOT deceiving me.

And wouldn’t ya know that after just a few minutes alone with Daddy, the little Pinocchio confessed her dishonesty and presented a freshly painted sock, complete with “pink” streaks and blobs??!!  WTF?!  Why the hell wouldn’t she tell ME, the woman who brought her into this world?!  I know I may be pissy at times, but I’m certainly no Wicked Witch of the Midwest.  She made him promise not to tell me the details of the story, so I’m not really sure where she was hiding the thing in her room.  I was so incredibly irked that she refused to tell me the truth.

Now I realize that this is probably just one of many lies that my daughter will tell me in her lifetime, but I really want my kids to feel like they can come to me with anything, whether it be something small like fingernail polish or something big like not getting in the car with a friend who’s been drinking.  Keeping the lines of communication open is such a vital part of parenting and something for which I will continue to strive.  And if all else fails, well then I’ll just send Daddy in to get the low-down….

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No Holdin’ Back

At what point in our development do we actually start giving a shit what other people think about us? I often find myself a little envious of kids and their ability to just say and do whatever they’re feeling without regard for whoever’s around them. They have absolutely no filter whatsoever, so they call it like they see it and do it when they feel it.

Take for example my son at his soccer practice last weekend. The kid clearly had to take a whiz, given that he was squeezing his johnson like a damn water hose; however, he insisted that he didn’t need to go. But after a few more minutes of watching him hop around, my husband finally persuaded him to take a trip to the Port-A-Potty with him. When they were about halfway to the can, my son decided to save himself some time and go ahead and drop trow as he was running. He scurried right along, peter waving in the breeze, while horrified girls in soccer duds watched from a distance. My son, Mr. One Track Mind, was oblivious, though, since he only had his eye on the prize.

Also this past weekend, there was the girl at my daughter’s birthday party who apparently didn’t care for the game we were playing. Rather than keeping her thoughts to herself, she blurted out, “This is soooooo boring.” And I didn’t hear this little phrase out of Negative Nancy’s mouth just one time. Oh no, she made sure she repeated it over and over and over again. I REALLY had to work hard to bite my tongue with that one, but you see, MY mama taught ME to not say anything at all if I can’t say anything nice.

My daughter is particularly skilled at saying anything and everything that’s on her little mind. In the span of just a few hours one day, the girl told me that my teeth were yellow, I had bad breath, and my hair looked like a wild woman’s. Way to make the woman WHO GAVE BIRTH TO YOU feel like a rock star! I know that she doesn’t mean any harm, but I still made sure to brush my teeth, throw on some whitening strips, and run a brush through my hair just in case.

And then there’s the constant public proclamations by BOTH of my kids about what they need to do in the bathroom. We could be in the middle of a ridiculously crowded restaurant or standing in a long-ass line at the grocery store, and neither one of them has even the slightest qualm about screaming out, “I GOTTA POOOOOOOOP!!!!!” It’s beyond awesome to have all eyes on you while your kid’s hand is crammed up his ass crack.

As embarrassing as it might seem at times, though, think about how liberating it would be if, as adults, we could share that same no-holds barred attitude toward society. You hate the sweater your mother-in-law gave you for Christmas? Tell her you wouldn’t use it to clean your toilets! You’re trying to get out of a dinner date with your creepy neighbors? Tell them they are the constant stars of your nightmares! Your husband asks if the sex was good for you even though you accidentally nodded off in the middle of it? Tell him you had a better orgasm at yoga the other day. I’d love to just speak my mind, if only just for a day. Something tells me, though, that I’d find out a whole new LITERAL meaning for the phrase “roll with the punches” if I did….