How Honest is Too Honest?

 

When I was in the fifth grade I decided to try out for the talent show at my middle school as part of a dance act. Would this inevitably be a failure? Absolutely. Did my mother sugarcoat that for me? Not at all.

While “perfecting” my routine in our living room, my mother came in and innocently asked if I was okay. When I told her my plan to be a part of the talent show, she shuddered (and rightly so) and then told me that I had not passed her try-out, so I would not be allowed to go on to the ‘big one,’ the audition at my school. At the time, I felt she was being hypercritical and overprotective, but looking back on this brief episode I am grateful to her for saving me from unneeded embarrassment (which would rule my life for years to come).

And now I’m wondering, as a parent, when is tough love too tough? When do you need to stop being honest with your kids and just hope for the best? My son is almost two. When I look at the young boys in the world, I cringe at the thought of watching my child run the opposite way during AYSO soccer games in a complete cluster bomb, enduring watching him play hours of games like dungeons and dragons, and overall, doing things I might consider ridiculous. I understand that as a mother, part of my job description is to be loving and supportive, but I am also human - how much of this am I going to have to take?

A while back there was a hilarious Curb Your Enthusiasm episode where Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David were discussing hurt feelings.  They agreed that you could speak the utter truth and get away with it – no matter how hurtful – if you use the phrase “having said that” immediately after.  For example, you could say, “Parents who let their kids go batshit crazy in nice restaurants should be jailed. Having said that, I think it’s nice that kids are able to experience the finer things in life.” No harm no foul. Will I be able to use this same approach with my son?

When I tried out for the basketball team my freshman year of high school, I was 5’4” 190 lbs, unable to dribble or run without coming up with an excuse. “Err, my doctor says I should take it easy, err no running…ever” I didn’t make the team. When I relayed the news to my dad, he simply looked me up and down and nodded in agreement. There was no “softening the blow.”

My parents are famous for “one-upping” my siblings and my complaints:

 “Hey mom, gosh, long day today… I’ve really got a lot on my plate right now, what with working full time and raising a son, it’s been a bit rough.”

My loving mother: “Yeah, I did it with four of you, while working full time, rarely sleeping, cooking everything from scratch, taking you on vacations, and helping all of you with your homework and personal needs. But, I can see how it would be difficult, what with your frozen meals and one child.” Gotta' love her realistic approach to life.

I hope I am able to find a balance with my own kids. Somehow, my parents were able to prepare their children for life’s more challenging moments without annihilating our self-esteem in the process. I abhor the thought of more “Mommy and Me” music, gym, art, etc. classes where my child is the one running around crazily while other parents are wondering whose kid that is and I’m right there with them…

Having said that, it could quite possibly be as entertaining as it was for my parents who look back on those times with only the fondest memories.