Monsoon is four. He's a good kid. Really. He's honest and trustworthy most of the time - although he does occasionally tell a fib with a huge grin and arched eyebrows like he's surprised he's doing it, so I can always tell. He's only four, though, and I understand that there are few precious years where he'll be entirely truthful and open with his mother, and those few years are nearly up. I want to hold onto them, though, as long as I can. We teach him to own up to his mistakes, clean up his messes and to think of others first, as hard as it is for him.
He's the type of kid who, when the video store clerk offers him a sucker from the basket, will automatically tell her, "Mommy said I can't have anymore candy today." He shares even his most prized goodies with whoever is around (as long as it's his idea to share and nobody told him to). He laughs and tells us when Grandpa gives him an extra Popsicle (because of course Grandpa's authority overrides anything we have said). He has been sheltered from manipulation and he hasn't really known about lying. Until today.
Today, he was asked to keep a secret from Mommy and Daddy. The secret itself wasn't any huge deal - he watched a movie when I had specifically requested that he not. He was permitted to watch it anyway, and made to promise that he would keep it a secret. He slipped by accident, then my husband had to coax it out of him, ever so gently, careful not to let on his anger. He wasn't angry at Monsoon, of course. He was angry that someone would purposely teach our young child how to manipulate and lie. The secret, of course, was not to protect Monsoon. It was to protect the people who let him do what he wasn't supposed to do.
Sure you can do it, we just can't tell Mommy and Daddy. That's right, you don't have to stick to their rules as long as you keep it a secret.
Don't they figure it out soon enough? I'm heartbroken. It may seem trivial, I suppose, given the precise secret. It just makes me sad. It tears me up that he really thought he had to keep it a secret, and tried not to tell us. I want him to know that he can talk to us about anything, always. It's one of the most important lessons I want him to learn. We are his parents. We will love him always, no matter what. He shouldn't be afraid to tell us anything. Ever.
What do you all think? What would you do?
Sanity or Patience: choose one.
Do you ever have one of those moments where you think, "HA! I am sane!" Then you step in dog poo with your bare feet and remember it was your idea to get the puppy...?