The Dirty Truth

I was so inspired today by my friend Mel and her post. Her words hit home with me and I found the irony in the everyday application, the simple truth.

We as parents go on and on and on about how we want out children to tell us the truth. We scold with no mercy at a fibbing child "Tell me the truth...DON'T LIE TO ME" when we have clearly caught them in a devious act and then they deny their blatant actions. As a parent teaching our children the honor, integrity, and moral fiber of being a truthful individual is a worthy trait, and with time the truth can be told without hurt or pain, as a constructive tool.

But we teach these morals, these sound ethics as a high functioning human being and we ourselves cannot bear to share, tell, or speak the truth. We tell white lies, half truths, bold faced lies, half arsed lies, we omit pertinent information, I mean there is a whole web page that lists every type of lie possible! So why do we as parents instill such noble qualities only to fail ourselves? To fail our children by telling lies, by failing to share the truth, by lying to ourselves?

I for one am a HUGE advocate for the truth. Clearly displayed by my incident with my in laws in the last month. But I am not remorseful, maybe for my presentation.....but not for my honesty. Not for my feelings. NOT for the truth. I hate lying to my kids about even the simplest myths such as Santa, The Tooth Fairy, The Easter Bunny, because I know that in time the truth will be revealed. I question the reason for these mythical beings, what is the purpose? Big G so badly wants to be a super hero, I had to burst his bubble and explain they don't exist. A man in a blue suit with a cape....Mr. Perfect, does not exist. DH was borderline furious with me, but I felt necessary because I did not want my son to be deluded to thinking perfection is attainable, that perfection exists, that someone walks this Earth that can do no wrong. Again, some may disagree, but if NO ONE told Big G that super heroes don't exist....how long would he believe in such people left only for the writing in a comic book, a fantasy.

Again I question why parents hide the truth? Why they lie? I have spoken to Big G about the financial situation with DH and I. *GASP!! I know right. Well children do need to be aware that money is an object and money is required for somethings and at times not enough money is made or readily available for luxuries. I have spoken to Big G about other issues that parents may feel is breaching a line. Which I feel that line is not breached. I think we have been conditioned by many generations of family secrets, lies, and half truths or cover-ups that we learn the same behavior. We learn the fine art of not telling the whole story or claiming that the information is not suitable for children.

Well, I think this is hogwash. I wish I had been told as a child that my dad drank and was an alcoholic rather than "Daddy had a bad day" as he is puking full ball into a toilet. I wish I was told the truth of my mothers actions at a point in my life so that I did not grow up with such an enormous amount of resentment towards her, I wish my in-laws would not cover up a very tragic incident with my husband's niece that makes me feel uncomfortable around her and not want me children around her for their safety.

I sit down with Big G and with the twins (who look at me like I am nuts, but one day they will get it, so might as well start now) and tell them what they need to know about this family. About where their parents came from, about the adversity we face, the troubles that lie ahead, that if you lie you will only create bigger problems and what is a mole hill of an issue will soon spiral into a mountain that cannot be covered up or cleaned up.

Yes, the truth hurts. But the lies to cover up the dirty truth are even more harsh. People are led to believe in a falsehood, in something that does not exist, that will not exist, and the pain in the let down and the revelation of the truth that was disguised by ugly lies is even more painful. I would hate to be lied to for years, months, even moments, about something when although the truth is painful, the truth be known. I would rather have someone tell me that I AM (well rather was) the fat chick! That my pregnancy and eating while breastfeeding led me to balloon up to the porker I was, and now after conditioning and exercising I am feeling more comfortable in my skin. Yes, my feelings would be hurt, but I was more hurt by the ones I loved that they did not tell me how bad I was.

I just do not understand why the truth is such a difficult topic, why the truth is so hard to be spoken and shared. Why as parents we beat the nobility of truth into our children, but we fail to be completely truthful with our children.