I was in the grocery store a few weeks ago, pushing a cart with my two kids in it, barely maintaining consciousness. I was relying on the grocery cart more to keep me upright than to hold my groceries. I was seriously thinking up contingency plans in the event that I ended up booting all over the produce displays.
I was passing the same woman over and over in the aisles. We would always start the aisle at opposite ends and meet up in the middle. Finally, about three quarters of the way through the store, she taps me on the shoulder and says: "Okay. I give up. How far along are you?"
"About eleven weeks. Is it that obvious?
She said "Honey, your skin is glowing, but it's also really green."
"Do I look that bad, really?"
She tilted her head and smiled a sympathetic smile, one that said "Honey, you REALLY don't want an answer to that, do you?"
She said "Congratulations, dear" as she headed to the checkstand.
So, yeah. I'm due at the end of September. For those of you keeping track, that means that at the end of September I will have three kids under three and a half. If you're the praying type, think of me. I'll be the one at the grocery store, barfing on the broccoli.
Bean lied to me today.
That's not new in itself - she's been lying for months. Up to now, she's lied for humor's sake - ask her what color a fire engine is, and she'll say "Pink!" and dissolve into giggles. But this morning, she lied to cover her ass. I'm not quite sure how to handle it.
I walked into my bathroom and found a puddle on the rug outside the shower. There were scraps of sopping toilet paper all over it - she obviously peed on the rug and tried to mop it up. I asked her what happened.
"Nothing happened, Mama."
"Did you pee on the rug, sweetie?"
"No, I not pee onna rug, Mama. It's okay."
So she and I mopped it up. I told her that she wasn't in trouble, that accidents happen, but she needs to tell me about it. When she tells me something different, that's a lie, and that's not good.
I think the last part went over her head a bit.
Growing up in my house, there was no worse sin than lying. If your ass got caught in a lie, the punishment was always at least double whatever the original offense deserved. It was always better just to fess up ahead of time and save yourself the hour long lecture about integrity and disappointing your parents, who work so hard just to feed you and clothe you and keep a roof over your head and this, this is how you show your grati-OH MY GOD I'M SO VERY SORRY! I'M DIRT, I'M WORM DUNG, WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST PLEASE STOP THE LECTURE, MY EARS ARE BLEEDING. I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN, WHATEVER IT WAS. JUST PLEASE LET ME STUFF KLEENEX INTO MY EARS.
Looking back, I wasn't as good a liar as I thought I was. I realize now that my parents let me think I was getting away with things - they pretended to be unaware of some of my more minor transgressions, and saved the big ear-bleeding lectures for the bigger things.
I know that she's too young to really feel remorse over a lie. I don't think she really understands what a lie is. I'm not quite sure how to go forward on this one. I can't exactly lecture a two-year old. I just hope it doesn't become a habit.