Yesterday I got a text from a friend that read:
“[Cyclone] broke his wrist?!?”
My response was of course: “No. Why?”
But before her reply text was received I had a feeling I already knew. This same friend’s son had recently broken his arm. Another friend Cyclone had visited with over the summer had on a cast.
And Cyclone had worn my wrist brace to school.
I see what’s happening here.
I asked him, “Honey, did you tell someone that you’d broken your wrist?”
His face fell, “Yes.”
(Gotta hand it to the kid. He fessed up right away.)
My boy lied.
To his friends.
To his class.
We had a LOOOONG talk about it, and my love cried. . . a LOT.
I explained to Cyclone that one of the best things about our relationship is that I trust him. For example, He gets to go to the kids section of the library alone while his sister has to stay with me in the stacks because I trust him to obey the rules. That’s a benefit of trust.
He can get his own snacks while I insist on getting his sister’s because I trust him. That’s a benefit of trust.
Now that he lied he has lost some of that trust. Thus, he will also lose some of those benefits.
“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche
Boy was he sorry.
He curled up in my lap and cried for a good hour. I held his sweet, tear-stained face and told him over and over, “I love you, you’re a good boy. You made a bad decision but you are not bad. You’re my good boy and I love you.”
Over and over and over.
When Adam got home I made Cyclone confess to him.
It was practice. . .
for this morning.
We insisted that Cyclone confess his fib to his friends and he was sooo nervous. Adam promised to go with him, have his back, but it was still hard for me to watch him shaking in his seat as they drove away.
Adam told me as soon as he got home that Cyclone confessed to his friend, (at least one of them, they couldn’t find the other) and that sweet-boy hugged Cyclone and told him, “thank you for telling me.”
Oh praise Jesus!!! What a perfect way to accept my son’s confession. HALLELUJAH!!
I hope we aren’t being too hard on him. Forcing him to confess, guilting him with the “loss of trust” talk.
But it will be so much easier for him to learn this lesson now, right?
While the consequences are small. The hurt is minimal.
I mean, How quickly that lie spread to me.
How painful it was to undo.
(Cyclone’s first solution was to simply say that he was “all better now.” That’s some quick recovery, kid.)
Adam told our boy that confessing was what a man would do.
They own up to their mistake. Ask for forgiveness. Are humble, honest, accept punishment.
I’m so glad I married a man who believes this. So glad we are tag-teaming this parenting thing.
Rough lesson, but I’m thankful for the opportunity to encourage my son’s growth.
“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.”
― Anne Frank