The Art of the Fib

Today is a "Daddy Day" at the house...which means Carl is in charge. For some reason I'm more nervous about leaving him home with the kids than leaving them with anyone else. It isn't that he doesn't love them, or pay attention to them, he just underestimates them and overestimates himself. He will attempt to work on his laptop remotely AND watch the kids. From experience, I know that's become a challenge since Luke became mobile. I'm worried Luke will fall off something, or eat something that is meant to be inedible, or be the crankiest child on earth when I get home. I'm worried Savannah will have candy for lunch.

I think Carl feels he can work on the laptop and watch the kids with one eye. In some instances, that might be true. But not often. If you are anywhere near Luke he will want to see the laptop...which leads to him pulling on the screen from the back. More than one time he has almost succeeded in snapping the thing in half. So really, no laptop unless it's on a table. Then, when it is on the table, Luke will stand right next to you and scream because he can't see it. So, really, using the computer when he is awake is almost impossible. So, Carl will just wait until naptime...or so he thinks. Well, this week Luke has decided to only nap once daily, instead of twice. I would much prefer twice...he is too grouchy without the second nap...but I can't force him to sleep (unless I drug him, which I am obviously NOT going to do). So Carl may get 30 minutes when Luke sits in his crib and "talks" to everything. But it won't be long before he throws his bink and Lovey Bear out and just screams for someone to get him out too.

Savannah is generally much easier, but sneakier. She has learned the art of the fib. I really wish I could claim she is perfect (Luke too) and that she is immune from the disease of lying...but alas, she's almost 4. She knows what she wants, and she's learning how to get it. For starter's, she knows Dad is the answer to everything. If she doesn't want to go to bed, she says to me, "I want Dad to put me to bed." She knows that he is slower about the process. He lets her stay up while he empties his pockets, puts his PJs on, checks his email....well, she most definitely gets an extra 20 minutes when he is the bedtime king. If she asks for a certain food and I tell her no, she immediately goes to Carl. He generally doesn't think about the closeness to dinner, etc...so he says yes. It isn't that Carl doesn't care for her health or sleeping habits, he just always picks the easiest route. Keeping her happy. He doesn't like a scene, doesn't like crying or screaming, and most certainly doesn't like for his time to be interrupted. I can appreciate that, but I also see the value in telling a child no, setting some boundaries, and reinforcing who is in charge. Carl of course thinks he is in charge...I wouldn't be surprised if, today, Savannah rules the roost. (Especially since he wants to work too - he'll do whatever keeps her out of the way and happy - thus candy for lunch.)

Savannah knows very well that Carl is the "Yes" Man and I am the "NO" Mommy. She has begun to use that to her advantage. On Sunday, a good friend brought Luke a birthday present to church. When we got home, we opened it to find a puzzle for Luke. Savannah wanted to play with it. I told her that we could, after lunch. Well, not 5 minutes later she came over to me and said, "Can I open this puzzle? Dad said I could.". So I sighed and was slightly annoyed that Carl had given her permission when I had told her no. But, I hate to contradict him, so I let her open it. So then after lunch I was talking to Carl and told him I really wish he wouldn't have told her yes. Turns out, he didn't tell her anything - just to ask mom. So his answer had been to check with me, and her "translation" was to tell me he said yes. She completely played BOTH of us!

I really hate she has reached the age of fibs...she recently has told us every single she leaves the bathroom that she washed her hands. Yesterday I said, "You did? Great job! Let me see." Her hands didn't feel the least bit damp. She isn't that great of a hand dryer that her hands are instantly dry...I asked if she was sure...she insisted she had washed them...I doubt that was true. So now we need to have a conversation about fibbing. I know (unfortunately) every child will go through this stage, but I hate it. I keep telling myself that it is a sign of her brain working to find the best path to what she wants...so the idea behind her fibbing is good. She is intelligent enough to work towards her own goals...but the actual fibbing part - terrible.

One thing is for sure, with Savannah now understanding the dynamics of the household, Carl and I need to start checking in with each other when she has a request. We can't trust her to tell us "the whole story". Team parenting has never been so important.