Telling the Truth

And other ways to earn trust

“Mom?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Do you believe in Santa?”

*The first time Logan asked this question I put down whatever I’d been doing and gave him my full attention so I could see how my answer landed. Every other time he asked I stuck to the same script, and I had the sense that he got comfort from hearing the answer again and again.

“I believe in the magic of Christmas, and Santa is part of that magic.”

“But is Santa real?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? Some people don’t believe in Santa, and they’re probably the same people who don’t believe in magic. I just think the world is so much more interesting with magic in it, so I choose to believe.”

Is that a lie? Not in my book. Standing for the possibility of magic gave my kids room to believe in something that brought them joy, no matter how improbable it might seem. And then when they no longer needed that particular bit of magic to be real, they didn’t feel betrayed that I’d sold them a bill of false goods.

As we all know, there are degrees of lies. Blatant falsehoods being arguably the most egregious, and the lies of kindness or omission fall somewhere near the more socially acceptable levels of communication. I actually try to avoid all forms with my kids, primarily because the subtleties of untruths are learned distinctions, and require a bit more experience than young kids typically have.

I remember one six-hour drive home from Oma’s house when it was just me and our then 10 and 6 year old kids. They wanted to talk, or more accurately, they wanted me to talk to keep them entertained. So I told them all about me - memories from childhood, teenage years, young adulthood, all the way up to their births. They had LOTS of questions, and I didn’t dodge a single one of them, even the awkward ones.

I’m not sure what they retained from that conversation, but I do know that they trust me to be honest with them, which in turn, has inspired them to tell me their own truths. And now that they’re older, I can have conversations with them about the lies of kindness or omission I might have told other people and why (though not often - it’s SO much easier to live like they’re going to find out).

How much information is too much? Our school district teaches by degrees - they introduce a concept in elementary school, go deeper into it in middle school, then do a proper examination of it in high school. In my experience, it’s exactly how kids tend to absorb information - they’ll take in a surface concept when they’re young, then go deeper as their life experience grows. I’ve learned to trust my kids to process what they’re emotionally ready to deal with, especially with the media they consume.

Connor was about 11 or 12 when he heard me laughing out loud one weekend morning as I read in bed. He asked what was so funny, and I told him I was reading a book called First Grave on the Right, by Darynda Jones. It is very definitely written for adults, but it’s incredibly funny, smart, and has a great plot. It was also a paranormal romance, which I warned him about when he pulled the book up on our shared Kindle account and started reading. He made it to about book three before he finally lost interest. When I asked him what he’d thought about the romantic moments in the books, he shrugged, looking completely unbothered, and said, “I mostly just skipped past them.”

I don’t understand censorship, and I’m offended by book bans because frankly, I trust the relationship I’ve built with my kids. They know I won’t lie to them, even about awkward things, and if they have questions about things they read, they’ll come to me. It helped that I read books out loud to them long after they could read themselves, and I’ve also read some of their school books so I knew how to help them dig deeper for the answers to essays.

I have never said “don’t read that book” to either of my kids. In fact, when they were intrigued by the HBO show of Game of Thrones I said “read book one first.” Turned out that the story in book form was too violent to keep their interest, so the watching the show never really appealed after that. I tried to fill our shared Kindle account with whatever middle grade and young adult books I thought they might like, and now, rather than wade past all the romances, they go straight to the e-book library or to our shared Audible account for their books. I trust them to know what they like, just like I trust them to come and talk to me. It’s a connection I cultivated when they were little, and I’m now reaping the benefits of that trust.

I look at the relationship I have with my mom, and it’s one I want to have with my kids when they’re adults. I trust my mom to always have my back, and there’s nothing I can’t tell her, and I believe it’s the same for her. That trust is in the relationship I’m cultivating every day with my kids, and it began on a foundation of truth - well, truth and magic, because this world is so much more interesting with magic in it.