So it finally happened. My sweet little angel lied straight to my face. At only four years old, she lied with such genuine enthusiasm and pride that I never suspected a thing.

It was the vegetables that led to it all. You know the struggle that all of us parents have? The one where we figure out that the eating, sleeping, and pooping habits of our children really are not within our control? Well, I thought I had it all under control. And I did – I mean, I do. But it was this issue that brought on The Lie.

I didn’t even ask her that day what she’d eaten for lunch at school. I wasn’t even going to tempt fate that way. I cheerfully asked how her day was…who all she’d played with…what she’d learned…and out of nowhere, “Mommie!!! Guess what!?!?”  Then she squealed, “I ate three bites of corn today, Mommie!!!”

Holy cow. Corn? She hates corn. Of all the vegetables, corn is the most feared. But she has been doing better, I thought. And she is so proud of herself, I rationalized. Yep, I bought it.

“Oh my gosh! Are you serious? I’m so proud!!! Good job!!!” And there we sat, smiles on our faces. She had eaten corn at school, on her own, with no coaxing on my part. We were so proud of ourselves.

And then it all came crashing down. The next morning as I dropped her off at school, I laughed with her teacher a moment about some silly thing she’d done, and then just as I was walking out the door I mentioned, “Oh, by the way, can you believe she ate the corn?” To which her teacher replied, “Corn? She wouldn’t touch her corn!”

And my fragile little parenting ego crumbled. Not only had my child not eaten the corn, but she had lied to me about it! Lied when I hadn’t even asked her! She had voluntarily lied. 

And so to continue on our pointless path, I asked the one thing I always tell parents not to ask…”Why?” It’s the question that no young child is capable of answering in a way that is going to bring you any substantial resolution. There is no ‘ah-ha’ moment when a four-year-old explains why she lied. There’s no clarity gained, no peace. But I asked it anyway because I was just certain she was going to help me understand.

So why do children lie? Is it okay? Is it normal? Is it just a phase? Should it be punished? Should it be ignored? Should we believe them so that we don’t damage their fragile little egos? These are the questions I am often asked by parents about their own little cherub’s “untruths.”

Children lie because they can. I’ve had some tell me they do it for sheer amusement. One 9 year old would just make things up and told me he enjoyed seeing how big it could get, how creative he could be, and how easily his mom bought it. He was bored, and this was far more entertaining than the alternative. 

Children also lie to get out of trouble or to escape a dreaded activity. It seems a natural reaction, and if it works even one time out of ten, human behavior tells us it’s worth trying again.

Parents say, “He knooows he’s going to get in trouble. Why would he lie when he knooows he’s going to get caught?” I respond, “Why does a dog keep digging out of a pen to go visit his lady friend down the street, knowing his owner is going to wear him out the next morning?”  

Children also lie to impress you. Remember, “I ate three bites of corn today, Mommie!!!” Followed by, “I’m so proud!!! Good job!!!” Well, there you have it. And as they get older, they’ll lie to others to impress them too. Think of some of the resumes you’ve seen, or the first dates you’ve been on. Do the words “fluff” and “hot air” come to mind? Need I say more? 

So is it OK? Is it normal? Is it just a phase? Well, let me respond with this. Just because a behavior is expected, is universal, is common, and I understand it, does not in any way mean I overlook it, let it slide, or wait for it to pass. It is not an acceptable behavior, and should therefore come with consequence.

Now don’t go scolding your three-year-old daughter for telling your dinner guests about her unicorn, named Wonder, who kept her up laughing all night. That’s not “a lie”; that’s an active imagination. But do attend to blatant attempts to alter or conceal the truth. Let me offer a few guidelines that I find helpful.

First, don’t ask “why?” By asking why, we are accidently giving them the impression that there might be an answer that would excuse the behavior. There’s not. So quit asking. And yes, I do realize I’m guilty as well.  

Second, don’t openly struggle with whether to believe or not to believe. When we do this we give the impression that we are having some turmoil about delivering consequences … like we are hoping we don’t have to punish.  When we do this, we are at that moment undermining our authority.

I understand some parents are afraid to give consequences in case they’re wrong. But unless your reaction to a lie is to lock him in his closet for a week, the punishment won’t ruin his life. And just like that time you got that ticket even though you “really weren’t speeding,” well there were a hundred other times you didn’t get caught when you were. Same goes for your child—he’ll be OK.

Also, don’t trap them, overreact, and then lecture. If you know they’re feeding you a big fat one, just let them know you know, give the consequence, and move on. Don’t bait them and watch them hang themselves with that wide web they’ve woven. There’s no sense in dramatic detective games—unless you’re the one that’s bored and in need of some entertainment.

Finally, if the lie was to escape punishment, be sure to give the initial misdeed a different consequence in addition to the consequence for lying. This way, children learn faster that the lie caused more consequence than the misbehavior alone would have. And while you’re at it, try to make that consequence as logical and tied to the situation as possible.

Back to my own run-in with the big L that day: it turns out that my four-year-old did not have a clarifying, eye-opening explanation after all. In fact, in response to my nonsensical question of why, she went into some rendition/quote from Beauty and the Beast which made absolutely no sense.

Once she finished, I looked at her, reminded her it was against the rules to tell a lie, and that since she told me she had eaten the dreaded corn when in fact she had not, she would be eating those three bites of corn with her dinner tonight.

 

   Dr. Susan Eaves is a behavioral

specialist and therapist in the Division of Children and Youth Services at Weems Community Mental Health. E-mail her at seaves@weemsmh.com.