Lies I Tell My Child

By Katy White

Since outgrowing my childhood flirtation with lying (Molly ate all the cookies! Not me!), I feel like I've been a pretty honest person. I try not to lie to people or mislead them. And while I may embellish the occasional story, it's usually to make me look more ridiculous for humor's sake, not less. So I feel like that gets me a pass.

Having a child, however, makes me feel like there's not enough flame-retardant material in the world to keep my pants from going up in flames.

Here's a short list of the lies I tell my child:

-This is Auntie Em's favorite shirt. You should wear it!

-Cousin Stella sent you these shoes. Try them on!

-Daddy is going night night and Mommy is going night night and your best friend Daisy is going night night and Grandpa is going night night and Jesus is going night night and Puppy is going night night and (insert literally everyone she could ever imagine) is going night night...

-This is Nana's favorite food! I bet you'll love it!

-We only have ten seconds to get in the car, or we can't go to the store! (In fairness, I always manipulate my counting so she's in the car by the count of ten, but sometimes that's the longest ten "seconds" you've ever imagined).

-Olive goes potty on the toilet. Do you want to go potty like Olive? (For the record, Olive is like 15 months and nowhere near going potty on the toilet. But she lives twenty states away, so I'm not likely to get busted on this one).

-You have to sit in your chair, not Mommy's, for lunch, because it's Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Or every day ever. (Seriously, just sit in your chair, kid.)

Etc.

And you know what? I don't feel even a tiny bit bad. Sure, I suppose I need to start parenting on a more values-based system (we sit in our chair because that's respectful, we go potty on the toilet because it's part of growing up and helps us learn, etc.), but I don't feel bad. Because here are the truths I tell my child every day:

-Momma loves you.

-You are the most special, wonderful, beautiful, hard-working, determined, kind, loving girl I could ever imagine.

-I'm so proud of you for trying so hard.

-I love you.

-You can do it.

-I'm sorry.

-Because I love you, I want you to understand...

-Jesus loves you.

-I love you.

-I love you.

-I love you.

No parent is perfect, and maybe we all lie to our kids a little (or maybe it's just me.) But the most important thing I can do it tell my daughter the truth of how much I love her and how much she is capable of. Right?

Now with that said, it's Thursday. Please sit in your chair for dinner.