Find yourself increasingly face-to-face with a fibber? Don’t fret. Consider this interesting fact. According to the experts, preschoolers with higher IQ scores are more likely to lie. And apparently, it’s believed early fibbers may grow up to have better social skills as teens. Surprising? I thought so!
I’m not saying you should condone dishonesty in your child. But if you find your child telling the occasional white lie, it may be a sign your child is right on track, developmentally.
This next guest blogger has her hands full when her son starts lying at the age of 2.
We first met Teresa when she blogged about turning 42, graduating from college, giving birth to her sixth child, facing foreclosure and a failing business.. all in the same year. If you missed this heartwrenching piece, it’s a must-read.
This time, she’s back with a post we’d definitely consider lighter fare, but one that will still resonate with moms everywhere. As the mother of a one year old, for me, it’s just a terrifying little preview of what’s to come when my baby becomes a scheming toddler. Enjoy! ~Jenny
Louie Tales
I was putting laundry away one morning and spotted the letters L-O-U hand scrawled across my vanity mirror. They were backwards, written in the same manner as the word redrum from Kubrick’s The Shining. Three year old Louie stood beside me. I glanced down and he volunteered an explanation:
“Dom did it.”
Preschoolers sometimes go through a phase where the lines between imagination and the truth become blurred. It’s our job as parents to make the distinction clear for them. Louie prefers I work full-time at this job.
My fourth pregnancy was the easiest, even though my third child was still well under a year old through most of it. I should have suspected that this was fate’s way of giving me a break before the real work began. Since he could talk, I have listened to many Louie-tales. The recurring theme of each is: “I am lying.” Most recently, he swore that it was teddy bear day at school. Everyone needed to bring in their favorite teddy bear. One evening I asked if he had any homework. He produced his weekly reading booklet and proclaimed:
“I read it already, see, you signed it.”
My initials were written, backwards, across the front page. Illness does not sway his determination to spin a colorful yarn either. During day four of a particular nasty virus he refused to have his temperature taken even though I could feel he was burning up:
“Mommy, I DO NOT have a fever anymore! See that thing on the wall? (Pointing to the heat vent.) It keeps blowing on me. That’s what’s making me hot!”
Louie eventually started telling the truth at regular intervals but his foray into veritable conversation came with a price. My engagement ring was tucked safely on top of a tall dresser in the bedroom due to swollen fingers after my 6th child was born. One morning when I went to try it on, it was missing. I asked Louie if he knew where it went and he immediately answered.
“I had to pee and it accidentally fell in the toilet.”
I searched everywhere for it, hoping against hope that he was lying this time and the ring would turn up somewhere in the house. Weeks later, he was still sticking to his story. A plumber friend of ours suggested checking the traps, citing the fact that sometimes heavy objects remained in them despite multiple flushes. After disassembling nearly every pipe in the house, the ring emerged unscathed. I haven’t heard a Louie-tale since.
Find more from Teresa at sixbellybuttons. Tweet her here!
