Lying, ouch.

I feel heartbreak when one of my kids lies to me. A more seasoned parent with teenage sons sent me an article in National Geographic about the teenage brain.  It supposedly discusses the process of risk taking and separation that is essential to a teenager's growth into adulthood. I, of course, haven't had time to read and benefit from this article, but if I did, maybe it would diffuse the sadness around the lying.

However, I think the truth in the heartbreak comes not from my reaction to their natural development, but must be derived from my own history with lying. They're kids, teenage boys, they're supposed to lie.  It shouldn't wound me so much when they do, right? I think everything else they do is funny, so why does the lying hit so hard?

I grew up in a household where I never knew what was going on, no one told the truth about anything: feelings, actions, or identity.  I had to try to figure things out on my own, which I didn't do very well as a kid. Therefore, instead of being able to make sense of my family, I usually ended up disappearing into my favorite magnolia tree with a book.

As an adult, when faced with people I love who are not telling me the truth, it makes me panic.  In my adult relationships, this panic plays out in the form of a heated argument, with me playing the part of angry prosecutor. This has resulted in some really wonderful long term relationships. Or, not. You choose.

Obviously, this kind of confrontation doesn't work with kids. They freeze when I'm emotional. I believe this might especially be true with sons. They need their moms to be okay...healthy, happy and smiling. I know I can't always be that, but I can try to keep my moods consistent enough that they feel safe.  (And if consistency doesn't happen, I try to compensate by telling them I love them A LOT.)

What should I do when they lie? I know for sure I can't bring my own history and dump it in the middle of their natural development process.

I guess I have to breathe, ask for help, call my friends, pray, and wait to talk to them until I can be mom-Cathy and not kid-Cathy. In other words, check myself before I wreck myself. I really wanted to say that, but what I mean to say is I need to check myself before I wreck my kids.

Here's the article from National Geographic, if you'd like, you can read it and tell me all about it.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/10/teenage-brains/dobbs-text