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Jean's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 3/16/01 -------------------- 3/9/01 3/2/01 2/15/01 1/31/01 1/17/01 1/10/01 12/21/00 12/14/00 11/29/00 6/19/00 5/12/00 4/24/00 4/17/00 3/23/00 3/16/00 2/29/00 2/18/00 2/2/00 1/25/00 1/18/00 -------------------- Jean's Introduction

January 17, 2001

Semantics, semantics. Omitting part of the story, exaggerating, forgetting details. And from the thesaurus I find more choices: misstating, misrepresenting, fibbing (this is one my mother used when I was a teenager), dissimulating, prevaricating, falsifying, equivocating, swearing falsely (this one seems to fit!), and -- scariest of all -- committing perjury.

You know what I mean. Let's say it together: LYING.

I hate to use the word -- I really do. It sounds so intentional, so blatant, so bad. It lays the whole thing bare, tells it like it is. And we all hate to admit that we have lied, and hate to think that our children lie. We teach them the importance of truth and trust, and yet, it seems that when on trial, with the parents as judges and jurors, kids may commit perjury -- that is, lie.

This is an issue that has always been before me as Andrew's mother. I have preached the good word of honesty since he was a tot. Even then, it was a tough row to hoe. When Ian was still a babe, Andrew, who was 5, tried to blame Ian for the burned matches found in their room. Ian didn't yet have the dexterity to hold a match, let alone light one. But Andrew claimed that Ian had just been playing with the matches, and they accidentally caught on fire.

Several years later, when Ian graduated from baby crib to bed, I bought new bed sheets for both the boys' beds. Andrew, sent to his room one day, took his scissors and cut the bottom sheet, angry at being disciplined. Another time, while in his room for a time out, Andrew took those same scissors (why hadn't I taken them away??) and sliced the folds of the curtains on his bedroom window. Andrew would not admit, of course, that he had done it. There could have been no other explanation, but Andrew stubbornly held on to his innocence for two weeks, while I talked about truth and trust whenever I had the chance. He finally caved in, if I remember correctly.

Then there was the incident several summers ago, when we found a large hole in our garage side door, surrounded by potato "guts." This was at the time that Andrew was enamored with his potato gun (see 2/29/00 diary entry entitled "Mashed Potatoes"). But according to Andrew, the neighbor boy had shot the potato through the garage door. Never mind that the neighbor didn't have access to the potato gun at the time that it happened.

Another summer, just as I was arriving home with a friend, we saw Andrew and Ian running frantically to the back of the house, hose in hand. Ian had been sitting at the computer, which is by a window that faces the back yard and the garage, and had noticed smoke curling up from somewhere beside the garage. He had alerted Andrew, and Andrew, hero that he was, had moved quickly to save the garage. Andrew's theory was that the compost pile next to the garage had spontaneously combusted. My theory, after talking to Andrew's dad later that afternoon, was that Andrew was playing with fire again.

Minutes before my friend and I had arrived, Rafael had left. And just before he had left, he had noticed Andrew with gas can and matches in hand. He had asked Andrew what he was doing, and Andrew had said that the gas can and matches belonged to the neighbor boy (the same one who shot our garage door), and he was returning them. When Rafael and I put our stories together, we suspected that Andrew was fibbing. He swore up and down that he didn't start the fire. I swear that he was swearing falsely.

There have been many other instances of misstating or misrepresenting the facts or of omitting part of the story. And we always talk more about truth and trust. And Andrew almost always stubbornly sticks with his version of the story, in which he is totally innocent.

This past weekend, Andrew went skiing with Venture Scouts. Rafael had given him $100 to pay for partial expenses, and the rest was to be paid upon their return. When Andrew arrived home on Monday evening, he began to tell us about the trip. He recounted how he had gone down a slope that he hadn't known was closed because there had been no sign posted at the top. At the bottom of the slope the snow had melted away and gravel was exposed. According to Andrew, several skiers, including himself, had damaged their skis on the gravel. Andrew said that the manager of the ski resort was so apologetic, that he gave gift certificates to the boys involved, which could be redeemed in the resort ski shop.

"Do you know what I bought?" Andrew asked. I knew immediately -- gloves. What else? I was right. He had used the gift certificate to buy gloves and a neck warmer. Later in the evening, Rafael whispered to me that he believed that Andrew had spent some of the $100 on the gloves and neck warmer, and had made up the story about the gift certificate. As I thought about it, I had to agree that I, too, suspected that Andrew wasn't being 100 percent truthful. I knew that if I approached him, however, he would stick with his story. So I called the Venture Scout leader that had chaperoned the trip, and asked if she knew anything about the gift certificates. She said that she did not.

So, once again, Rafael and I spoke with Andrew about the situation, and about truth and trust. And, I must say, Andrew is getting better at telling the truth. At first he denied that he made up the story. But then he admitted that he had spent the money his dad had given him on the gloves and neck warmer. He explained why he had purchased these things, and he did have a logical reason. He had made a good choice. The poor choice he had made was not to be up front about how he had obtained them. Andrew said he was worried about spending the money, since he knew we don't have much to spare and that the trip had been quite expensive for our budget. He felt guilty about spending the money, and was hoping to pay it back when he could.

We explained to Andrew that we were happy to pay for his trip, that we want to provide these experiences for him and that, even though it may be difficult for us, we will work it out. We emphasized that he didn't need to feel guilty, but that we appreciated his concern. And again, we urged Andrew to understand and remember that to us, the most important thing, above all, is telling the truth.

I really do believe that Andrew is working harder at being truthful. I know that we all may shade the truth at times, and that telling the truth is something that most kids need to work on, at least to some degree. We all want to be seen as innocent and faultless, and may at times feel tempted to bend the truth a little in order to avoid unpleasant consequences. Some of us have an easier time admitting fault and taking responsibility for our actions than others. But we all have our strengths and weaknesses. To use a cliché -- nobody's perfect.

I cannot count the times I have been frustrated and felt like I was hitting my head against a brick wall when trying to get the truth out of Andrew. But the times have been fewer lately, and less frustrating. Andrew is trying, and that's what counts. He is truthful more often, and admits it more quickly when he is not. And anyway, if I, who was accused by my mother of fibbing when I was Andrew's age, have become a strong believer in truth and trust, so can he.