This is another story that never made it to the blog until now.
School mornings are rough. Everyone has to be up and out the door by 7:35, and some days that seems like a monumental feat. Despite the ability to tell time, no one in our family is much of an up-and-at-'em personality. Needless to say, tempers can flare when the clock is ticking down.
On a separate but related note, my sweet little Leah has the standard kid-skill (or curse) of being able to tell a fib with a completely straight face, until she breaks down into giggles or tears, depending on the situation. More than once I've been absolutely sure that she's telling a fib (I'm looking at you April Fools Joke of 2015!) and still to this day I could not tell you if I believe her when she says she's not lying about that dumb pitcher of "orange juice".
This event was not unlike that day.
In the early morning rush to get out the door, I noticed that Leah's hoodie was filthy dirty around the sleeves. It had clearly been used as a napkin on someone's mouth, so I dropped it into the laundry basket.
When it was time to send everyone out the door, I told Leah to go upstairs to get a jacket. She came down with the same jacket I had just dropped in the wash, and I told her such and that she couldn't wear a dirty jacket to school.
She immediately denied my accusation. She had not just pulled it out of dirty clothes basket.
Well, what a silly thing to lie about, I told her.
Who likes being called a liar? She started to cry and denied it again. It was past time to get out the door so I told her to just go to school in her dirty jacket and think long and hard about the importance of telling the truth. (Or something kind of nurturing like that, I'm sure, but remember, this happened almost a year ago.)
Angrily I stomped upstairs to start the laundry and get on with the day. When I reached into the laundry basket, the first thing I pulled out was... the dirty jacket!
I was shocked!
How on earth did it get back into the laundry basket after Leah took it out? I was sincerely stumped, but there was one thing I had to do, and it couldn't wait until school was over.
I hopped into the car with my two little babies, drove over to the school and marched in with the jacket. When the ladies in the front office told me they would deliver the jacket to Leah, I explained that that wouldn't do. I had called her a liar and I needed to set it straight. I had to deliver the jacket myself. (Stellar mom, I'm sure they were thinking!)
When I walked into the classroom I saw a mixture of surprise and a bit of dread on Leah's face. The poor thing probably thought I was there to pick another fight, but I just said, "I have to show you something! I found this in the laundry basket!"
We hurried to her locker together and low and behold, there were two jackets. Exactly the same.
School mornings are rough. Everyone has to be up and out the door by 7:35, and some days that seems like a monumental feat. Despite the ability to tell time, no one in our family is much of an up-and-at-'em personality. Needless to say, tempers can flare when the clock is ticking down.
On a separate but related note, my sweet little Leah has the standard kid-skill (or curse) of being able to tell a fib with a completely straight face, until she breaks down into giggles or tears, depending on the situation. More than once I've been absolutely sure that she's telling a fib (I'm looking at you April Fools Joke of 2015!) and still to this day I could not tell you if I believe her when she says she's not lying about that dumb pitcher of "orange juice".
This event was not unlike that day.
In the early morning rush to get out the door, I noticed that Leah's hoodie was filthy dirty around the sleeves. It had clearly been used as a napkin on someone's mouth, so I dropped it into the laundry basket.
When it was time to send everyone out the door, I told Leah to go upstairs to get a jacket. She came down with the same jacket I had just dropped in the wash, and I told her such and that she couldn't wear a dirty jacket to school.
She immediately denied my accusation. She had not just pulled it out of dirty clothes basket.
Well, what a silly thing to lie about, I told her.
Who likes being called a liar? She started to cry and denied it again. It was past time to get out the door so I told her to just go to school in her dirty jacket and think long and hard about the importance of telling the truth. (Or something kind of nurturing like that, I'm sure, but remember, this happened almost a year ago.)
Angrily I stomped upstairs to start the laundry and get on with the day. When I reached into the laundry basket, the first thing I pulled out was... the dirty jacket!
I was shocked!
How on earth did it get back into the laundry basket after Leah took it out? I was sincerely stumped, but there was one thing I had to do, and it couldn't wait until school was over.
I hopped into the car with my two little babies, drove over to the school and marched in with the jacket. When the ladies in the front office told me they would deliver the jacket to Leah, I explained that that wouldn't do. I had called her a liar and I needed to set it straight. I had to deliver the jacket myself. (Stellar mom, I'm sure they were thinking!)
When I walked into the classroom I saw a mixture of surprise and a bit of dread on Leah's face. The poor thing probably thought I was there to pick another fight, but I just said, "I have to show you something! I found this in the laundry basket!"
We hurried to her locker together and low and behold, there were two jackets. Exactly the same.
Neither of us had lied!
What a fascinating and relieving revelation. To this day I have no idea where the second jacket came from. We laughed about it and hugged and I apologized profusely for my unfounded anger and pointed out to her that, just like her, I thought I was acting in truth. It had been a huge and bewildering misunderstanding that could have easily been solved. If we had gone upstairs together we would have seen that the jacket I put in the laundry basket was, indeed, still there when Leah grabbed a jacket to go to school.
Looking back on this milestone in motherhood, I recognize a few things from this event.
1- The morning rush is a huge temper trigger for me. Any and all preparations made to avoid chaos in the mornings is 100% worth the time spent.
2- It is always worth it to set things straight. I apologize to my children, and often. I want them to know that I make mistakes too, just like they do, and that the biggest mistake of all is not trying to fix things when they are broken. You can't restore trust, love, or peace if you don't even try. I hope our kids will remember that I tried.
3- Whether or not a child chooses to tell a fib, it's essential that they know that I trust them. I believe that holding them to a standard will increase the likelihood that they live up to the virtue. Trust is a huge thing that is also quite difficult to restore once it's broken. I think both of us were so relieved to know that, on that day, we could both trust each other a little bit more.
And I still don't know where that second jacket came from. That part remains a mystery.
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