A few people commented yesterday about the lying and how they thought it was worrisome*. I, naturally, read those comments and nodded my head in agreement, but that idea had stuck with me all day today, tugging at my sleeve, and I’m not entirely sure why. But I kept thinking about it, and I’ve come to one conclusion: I’m not worried about it. In fact, I think I’d be worried if it wasn’t happening.
I was at the park the other day with my neighbor and her kids. She has a 2 year old and a newborn, both *just* their ages. (Vile betrayer aside: My uterus lept out of my abdomen and made a grab for that newborn. Stop it, bitch; we’ve talked about this. You had your turn.) Her 2 year old is the poster child for children. He’s the kid you dream about having. There seriously isn’t a better kid anywhere, and I’m totally comparing him against my own. And, of course, he’s two now, so he’s suddenly becoming less that desirable company all the time. At least insofar as she tells it. I’ve never seen anything but halos and rainbows coming out of that boy. Anyway, she was lamenting the passing of “the good kid”. She was telling me about his tantrums and his obstinence and how sad she was about it. I, of course, was offering her an assload of advice she hadn’t asked for instead of really listening, until she said this:
“I just miss how he was. He was so perfect.”
That, I heard. That, I’ve said a million times myself. THAT I actually knew the response to. Which was this:
“Dude, he is perfect. He’s supposed to be doing this. He’s perfectly two, you know? He HAS to do this.”
And I firmly believe that. I don’t pretend to actually know anything about child-development, but what I’ve observed over the past decade plus is that kids have to test their relationships with us at pretty precise phases of their lives. Two is the first one. Three comes next, and it’s just like two but with painfully great vocabulary. Then there’s the school-aged pull-away, and that one’s gentler. They need to do this to gain a sense of who they are and how they’re going to relate to the world around them. They have to separate from us slowly, in phases, and it’s got to be hard and confusing at every phase. OF COURSE they make us suffer.
We take it for granted that they’ll walk at this age and talk at this age and cut teeth at this age and potty train at this age. We stalk those statistics. We compare them with other kids. We talk to the doctor about them. We totally ignore the fact that the attitude is part of that package, and I think it’s a pretty damn important part. It’s not what they’re doing, it’s who they’re becoming.
Granted, my kid isn’t quite 11 yet, which may seem young to be hitting this next phase, but the sad truth is that he’s right on target. Like it or not, this puberty thing starts a hell of a lot earlier than it did for us. (You’ll thank me later aside: Bookmark that link. You’re going to need it someday. It’s the best resource I’ve ever found for kids on puberty.) He may not have the armpit hair just yet for his troubles, but good lord you should smell him. He’s been slouching towards puberty for several years now. OF COURSE he’s lying to me.
He’s trying to find his own footing in the world right now. He doesn’t tell me how his day was anymore, he doesn’t ask for my help with his homework anymore, I have to force a 5 second cuddle out of him at night, and he’s got a PhD in eyerolling. I am no longer cool. AT ALL. I am no longer funny or pretty or smart. I am his mawwwwwm. I am something he doesn’t really want a whole lot to do with anymore. Sure, he still seeks me out in the crowd at his basketball games, but god help me if I wave to him. Sure, he still wants me to help out in his classroom, but only while he’s at gym class. He wants to know I’m around, he just doesn’t actually want to see me. And I have no doubt that he wasn’t *this* much glad I’d busted him, for two reasons. One: He had proof that I was looking. Which means I care. No matter how annoying that is for him, just like at his games. Two: I got the message loud and clear that he’s interested in moving on to the next level, the one where he can take over some of the choices I’m still holding on to for him, and he didn’t have to talk to me about it.
Does it make any sense at all? Hell no. Does any adolescent child make any sense at all? Hell no. When I was barking right down his throat, I asked him, “Do you think your father and I were your age so very long ago that we can’t remember doing this same sort of thing?” And then I realized that no, we weren’t his age so very long ago that we can’t remember doing this stuff. I totally remember doing this stuff, the little lies, the small deceptions. It was important to me, to my self esteem, to my image of myself to be able to pull off the small victories. I needed to carve my own path, you know, and so does he.
So maybe it’s time to loosen the leash a notch or two. Maybe he’s ready for the next step, whether or not I am. I wasn’t ready for him to walk, either, but he sure had to do that. All I’ve hoped for with these kids is that they’ll grow up to be humble, to be kind, to be sensible and to be their own men. I don’t want them to be “my sons” forever, I want them to go into the world and do something, be something, of their own making. I want to be the foundation of their lives, not the walls. And that’s beginning, my role is starting to shift. Just so long as he knows that I know, and that I’m watching however silently, I think we’ll get through this phase just fine, as well. That, and a parental controls blocker set to DefCon 5.
Because really? I see porn on my laptop once, and someone goes to military school.
*You gals don’t mind that I’m replying to you comments with another post do you? I sure hope not.
Tagged with: letting go, Lying, Puberty
Mazey
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 17:23About the porn on your computer…get ready for it. I can remember yelling at my son, “why can’t you just buy Playboy and hide it under your mattress?” But that was then. You know, the dark ages when my brother was a teenager. (I found his stash of magazines.) How ya gonna keep a 16 year old off the computer.
Calminaiel
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 17:36I loved this post, I must say. Can’t exactly describe why, but I thought I’d let you know.
I haven’t this this pleasant experience you describe with your kids. We’ll wait until I have kids to go through that, and seeing as I’m 18 right now, hell if I know when or even if that is ever going to happen.
However, I am proud to say that I’ve done that exact stuff to my parents.
My mom hated it when I went from always talking to her about everything to never wanting to speak. When I used to include her in everything, and wanted her to go everywhere with me, and then I didn’t even want her walking up to the door of my friend’s house when she came to pick me up.
Even my dad is starting to feel it. He loves to cook dinner for the family, and suddenly my university schedule and newly gained drivers license means I’m spending less time at home, and whenever I need food before I leave home and he asks if he can make me some food, it’s no longer ‘Yes, that would be good’ but ‘Don’t worry about it, I can get my own food.”
Oh, did I mention it also looks like it pains him a little every time I pop the question “Can I have the car for the weekend?”
Speaking for my dad, because I’m sure he’d say what I’m about to: Cherish these years full of little changes and disputes, because they’ll be 18 before you know it.
~Cal
SciFi Dad
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 18:41Note to self: email Donor DefCon6 level passwords for parental controls.
Expat Mom
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 19:15Man, I LOVE your posts. I`m a ways away from the puberty thing with my boys, but just the way you`re thinking about these things is so true. I`m having a hard enough time with my 3 year old being independent, but really, you`re right. This is just him being three. And I have to remember that the end result is what I want, a man who is kind and strong and totally able to look after himself.
rachel-asouthernfairytale
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 20:43Dammit. Everytime I think you’ve topped yourself, you do it better.
Gawd, I love you woman.
Seriously, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this post today.
Gnilleps
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 20:56Again we are more related than we might like to believe… well maybe not nowadays, but it’s funny how more and more evident it becomes.
I well remember doing ish and getting away with it and not getting away with it. You have a very healthy attitude toward your rearing and that will result in them always respecting you and “thinking you are cool” even when then act like you are just some stalker that followed them to the BBall game.
I will assume my tribe will have more sense than I, but I provide an environment where I hope they wont be afraid to push those barriers. But if I ever find porn I didn’t put on my laptop… I will make sure they clean the keyboard THROUGHLY! heh
Ree
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009 at 22:53Hallelujah.
(p.s. that stank? Wait until 17 rolls around. I follow mine with a bottle of Febreeze, and he is no longer allowed to sit on my end of the couch unless he has gotten out of the shower in the previous 10 minutes. After 30? Evacuation time.)
Redneck Mommy
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 0:13I’m so glad we have son’s the same age.
Because while I’m busy humiliating myself on the net talking about sex, you are writing beautiful and sensible posts about raising our children and being the best mother we can be.
Thank God.
Robyn
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 7:32I’m going to print and frame this post so I can rely on its wiseness (not a word, I know) 8 years from now, when my Bear is almost 11. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your approach to motherhood and how you treat your kids — why don’t YOU write a parenting book? For reals.
bri
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 7:50Yes yes and yes. Well said. I am watching my 18 year old and my 18 month old both toddle into independence in their own ways. Both involve middle of the night activities.
cheesefairy
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 9:24This post kicks ass on so many levels.
And it leads me to wonder how different my 20s would have been if my parents had tried your approach instead of the leg-hold traps and straitjackets they employed during my teen years.
molly_g
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 9:36My friends and I with kids on the autism spectrum leap for joy when our kids lie. It’s a huge developmental step, so very typical. You are so right on dude you have no idea.
C.B.
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 9:55I remind myself when my son (nearly 7) or daughter (4) gets defiant or has a tantrum to ask myself if my boundaries are too loose OR too strict. Do they have enough age-appropriate control and ownership of decisions? Usually, it’s been time to loosen up a little. Good to know this might work heading into puberty!
LaskiGal
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 10:13Just this morning J was tugging at my PJs, pleading with me to pick him up. I did. He follows me around like a little shadow. I won’t complain. He finds me wherever I might be . . . even if I am on the toilet (TMI, whatever, you know what I mean.).
I relish in every bit of it (no matter how much I beg to pee in peace). Because, I know one day I won’t be anything but a wallpaper design.
And it kills me.
But, I get it. It is what it is . . . it is about growing up. Being a kid. Finding your own. And, I knew going into this that it would happen. As much as I want to violently stomp on that damn PAUSE button.
I know I can’t. That I shouldn’t.
You, getting it like you do, it’s inspiring. No romance here . . . just plain honesty. I like that.
Jen
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 12:03I know eventually the time will come when arts and crafts aren’t handed to me with wide, sparkling eyes and a loving, “Mommy…I made this for YOU!”
Until then, I snuggle and smell them and cuddle them as much as I can.
Gosh that makes me sound like an awesome mom. Heh heh.
Zoeyjane
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 12:12You know, just when I think I couldn’t hate (with love) your inherent momabilities any more, you once again pull out a post like this. You got some perspective, man, and some instinct, and then some nonchalance that I don’t have added on top. Triple threat.
Always impressed, I am. {also, speaking Yoda, apparently}
What I need to know is: is this because of who you are as a person, who you and the donor have conspired to be as parents, or can I buy some of what you got at the liquor store and if so, does it come in mickey sizes, for easy concealment at the park?
Karen MEG
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 13:29Okay, my boy is freakin’ 8 going on 14… what the hell, this pulling away school-age thing is happening NOW and I’m so not liking it. I also yearn for those days when he was “perfect”, but then I have to remind myself that he is still “perfect” in a lot of ways, he’s just, as you put it, exerting himself as … himself. And if I weren’t so pig-headed and stubborn, I’d try to appreciate it more for what it is than fighting it tooth and nail.
I loved this post, you know, and I’m falling hard for you…and my husband is very afraid of July ;) LOL!!!
Kelly
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 13:51So with you… Normal is frustrating! :) I remember when my Punky went from perfect to two. He was so cute, still is though. I think you have to have that “falling in love” period, for when they turn into two year olds!!!!!
anya
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 14:34THIS is why you should win a blogher award. You are honest, funny and insightful. So many times I have read your blog and had an “AHA” moment….and today was one of them. Thank you for sharing! Your kids are really lucky to have such a great mom.
mamacrow
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 14:47oh hear hear. I completely agree with absolutely everything you said. (especially the military school bit!)
mrsfinn
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 14:53I think my heart just died a little bit. I sat here reading your post with a little bit of deja-vu. My daughter seems to be stuck between confiding everything in me, and lying to me about EVERYTHING. Even the stupid little things. The other day, I heard something fall in the washroom, so I asked her what she was doing- what she was ACTUALLY doing was putting a new roll of TP on the roll (something I can’t get my husband to do for the life of me, but she does it all on her own), she LIED… she told me about 4 different things before the threat of being grounded and having yet ANOTHER privelege taken away finally fessed up. She wasn’t scared about me being mad for what she was doing, and it’s become a day-to-day thing. I actually called her pediatrician, panicked thinking she was becoming a pathological liar. He said almost the exact same thing you did. She is growing up and reaching a new stage in her life… next comes puberty.
What scares me the most, is that she’s only going to be 8 in a couple of weeks- FAR too young to start entering puberty, or so I thought…
*sigh* good luck to you with your son!! I’m going to go curl in a ball now, and mourn my daughter’s waning childhood…
Tara R.
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 15:56My boy is still in that stupid lies stage. If he was more creative I probably wouldn’t mind so much, but the obvious ones are aggravating.
TRACI
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 16:18Kids lie?
Wha?
Since when?!
diane
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 17:02I loved this post. You hit the nail on the head. Kids need the space to lie and screw up and that is how they learn.
I have an almost 14 year old and your comments resonated with me.
Your kids are so lucky to have such a knowledgeable, insightful mother. Kudos!
hubs
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 18:28What Mazey said. I hope you have that $ for military school saved up.
Keely
Thursday, 26 February, 2009 at 21:08Thank you for writing this post NOW, as my son’s about to turn two, so I can stop wondering wth is wrong with him and just go, “Oh, right. HE’S TWO.”
I’ll bookmark that link AND this post for when he turns 11.
Crap. At some point he’ll turn 11, won’t he?
the planet of janet
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 0:28in my catching-up haze, i’m glad i read the first post first. (heh. it’s late)
anyway, my friend, you TOTALLY have your head on straight on this one.
take it from the one who has been through it all (or at least most of it) and managed to survive to tell about it.
uh. except for that 14-year-old girl. but we won’t discuss that. nope. we won’t.
Courtney
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 0:51Oh, man. I’m so not ready for all of that. I’m not ready for any of this stuff! I’m going to have a total meltdown at every new stage because seriously? NOT READY.
Jack
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 2:27I’ll be ok when the big guy hits teenage land, but not with the dark haired beauty. That girl is already working out plans to make me lose all of my hair and my teeth. Ouch, it hurts just to think about it.
Jaina
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 9:49You are seriously a cool mom. Hands down. :)
Just Meee~
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 10:30When Krissy said…It sucks hairy balls but it goes along with having a child. And I challenge anyone to prove to me that their teenager is perfect and shit’s butterflies.
I thought I’d wet my pants….
Rachel
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 11:42Completely unrelated to your post, but can I just say thank you?
I was tooling around on the internet and I found the reading that you did for BlogHer several months ago. And watching it has made me face up to something that I didn’t want to admit – I do not work.
Realising this after I’ve just lost the boy I was meant to marry hurts. A lot. But it means that in the last ten minutes, I’ve just got off the phone with my doctor after booking an appointment to start the process so I can get the help I need. And it means that I just sent that boy a text, to tell him just how sorry I am and that actually, it is my fault and I hope one day he can forgive me for that. And that I can forgive myself.
But in the meantime, thank you, thank you so much for having the bravery to put that out there and show so many people that they are not on their own, and that it is not shameful to get help.
Em
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 13:45So genius!!
Jeez, I’ve missed you. Life is getting too busy, and I can’t make my “normal” rounds – makes me very sad.
Almost as sad as the thought of my youngest turning 3 next week. Coupled with this post, and I see a large bottle of wine in my future.
Thank you. This was great. Now I’ve got 30 minutes of naptime to catch up on everything I have missed!!! Em
Cuz_I'm_The_Mom
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 16:39I’m really trying to dig you as a new online friend but DAMMIT, you wrote another piece that makes me cry. Truth. Nothing but introspective, beautiful, painful, glorious truth. Thank you, Mr. Lady. I loved it.
p.s. Don’t get too attached to that military school prophecy, hon. I’m just sayin’.
Shelli
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 23:02High 5!
Who wants some nerdy ass truth tellin weirdo for a kid anyway? I know I sure as hell don’t!
Craig
Friday, 27 February, 2009 at 23:58The Second Coming reference is dead on, your boy slouching his way to adulthood, to becoming whatever he’ll become. That’s sharp and odd and right.
Thanks for sharing.
Jenna
Saturday, 28 February, 2009 at 10:47Librarian moment. If you look at all the challenges a library ever receives, you can see a pattern. Half are books challenged by parents of kids in the 2-5 range, when the kid is just starting to gain their own identity and pull away from the parent. The other half are kids in the 10-15 range when the kid is really pulling away and wanting to make their own decisions. Yes, there are exceptions to this, but they are few and far between. A fabulous Denver area library director, Jamie LaRue, wrote a book about this. He says that parents challenge books they find their child reading that defies what they knew about their child. But the child is growing beyond them and they are losing control, therefore they do what they can to regain it. And if telling the library that no one can read that book makes them feel in control, that’s how they handle it. It’s more about normal growth in the child than anything else.
You have summed up both stages of this happening in this blog. And that you understand this now will benefit all of your children (and your local library!).
Second note – when M was at this stage and the eye rolling was in the extreme, we often yelled at him: “M! Be respectful! Turn your head before rolling your eyes!” I know he still eye-rolls at us parental units, but he is respectful about it. (M is turning 17 in a month. Yegads.)
The New Girl
Saturday, 28 February, 2009 at 14:38This is an awesome post. Every word TRUE.
Don Mills Diva
Tuesday, 3 March, 2009 at 13:20Damn you are a gerat mom and I could not agree more with you. Kids lie – it’s what they do – it’s sure as heck what I did and I think my upbringing and my childhood was just about as normal and traditional as could be…
Don Mills Diva
Tuesday, 3 March, 2009 at 13:21Now, if only I were a great speller…
emma
Wednesday, 4 March, 2009 at 18:25I’m not a mom, but I love hearing the stories of trials, tribulations, and joy from those who are. And I adore being the Aunt – always getting the good behavior and not yet out of fashion.