I'm focused on Jane's lying because it seems like the next opportunity to forge a trusting, meaningful relationship between us. We lie to those we don't like or respect or need; or to those we feel afraid of. We tell the truth when we feel safe enough to be vulnerable.
As long as she keeps lying there will always be a lack of trust and connection. But, just as her finally reaching out to us for comfort during medical events gave us the opportunity to meet her physical needs in a loving way; I want her to change her "muscle memory" of reflexively panicking and lying and treating us like someone she's afraid of, and work through the process that leads to trusting. It's going to be intensive work and require lots and lots of opportunities for practice.
Luckily I'm pretty much a human bull dog in my tenacity and working kids through a process of intrinsic behavior change is my actual profession. Also, she's super young and stupid and tells ridiculous lies that are sadly easy to identify. Logic and reasoning--not her strong points. (E.g. telling me her sister, while inside her crib, got a toy from 6 feet away up off the floor and put it into her own crib with her.)
So, let's work on lying now while the lies are obvious and straight-forward.
In the past week I've had two successes. Once she admitted that she'd pooped her pants at the park with dad. Once she admitted that she'd put socks on Kate. In both situations I already knew the truth and was able to coach her along and demonstrate a positive response as she inched closer to the truth.
Also, in both situations there would be no consequence from me so I wouldn't confuse her by punishing a behavior that she'd told the truth about. (Because why in the world did she even lie about putting socks on Kate anyway? I was happy when I saw them on her because every sign of independence is exciting. But once that girl panics and lies she cannot back away from it and only digs herself deeper.)
Today we're facing a situation where I know she's lying but I don't know what she's lying about. It's a mystery I'm fascinated by.
This morning I was gone taking the puppy to the vet. Gus went with me. Theo was working upstairs in his office. Seth had the three littles playing downstairs with toys.
I came home just as Seth began asking Jane why she'd told him that dad needed to talk to him. Seth was annoyed because Jane was supposed to stay downstairs with him but he caught her sneaking back downstairs after being upstairs on her own. She tried to deflect by claiming she was delivering a message from dad to Seth, but this was easily disproved when Seth ran up to see what dad wanted and dad said he'd never even seen Jane let alone given her a message.
At that point Seth was done but my interest was piqued. Why did Jane lie when caught coming downstairs? What was she really doing up there? Opportunity!
So, the test--had she learned anything from two successes telling the truth?
Nope.
I waited till the house was quiet and then took her aside, held her on my lap and gently rocked her while I went through the script on lying vs. truth telling. I then took her downstairs and opened the freezer and showed her the popsicle she'd get if she told me the truth. I got her calm and relaxed and happy and talking and then gently asked her what she'd done upstairs while I was gone. Instant tears. Total panic. Complete guilt and fear.
If I'd wondered if she was lying before...I sure didn't after that intensely guilty response.
I calmed her down. Got her to stop crying. Talked about other things. Reassured her there would be no punishment. Reminded her of the prize for telling the truth. Circled around casually to the topic: instant panic, tears, guilt, fear repeat.
And that is where we've been all day. Five hours of no punishment--after she cries and refuses I give her a task she likes but that isn't quite free play with the others and ask her to think about the truth and please come tell me when she's ready to tell it. But every hour or so I circle back and prompt, again, for her to tell the truth. So, not making it a big, scary punishment event but also not letting her off the hook. And several times when I've prompted her it's been while the others are doing something she would like to join so I add the extra carrot of, "you get a popsicle and ___ if you tell the truth."
But she won't. She just cannot make herself tell the truth.
Her responses, when she gets close and wants to tell me but just can't make herself, are fascinating. Her vocabulary is radically more sophisticated than daily life.
"It's kind of embarrassing."
"This is hard to talk about."
"Why do I have to say it out loud?"
Her hedging and deflecting are well-practiced strategies,
"I think I went ____."
"Maybe I was in the ___."
And then she stares at me to see if I'll provide her with the information to fill in the blanks how I want them filled.
She's fallen asleep twice. This is exhausting work. Once in the past after a nap she awoke in a radically different mood and was able to completely confess to a slew of devious behavior that was shockingly sophisticated. I keep hoping that this will happen again after she wakes. But, I dunno.
I may never figure out what she did. And, honestly, it's probably something as silly as going into the boys' rooms and looking around when she isn't supposed to go in there (we've already looked around and haven't found anything broken or disturbed). She is hyper alert to everyone's whereabouts and the special opportunity of Gus being gone and Seth being occupied downstairs would've made the opportunity to go into "forbidden" territory pretty alluring.
If she doesn't confess by bedtime then I'll let it go. Tomorrow will be a new day. I'll chalk this up to a loss and hope for a truth-telling success in the future.
Update: I woke her from her nap, took her to the kitchen while I made pancakes (favorite food), chatted calmly with her while turned away so I was facing the stove and she could talk to my back. I began leading her through the morning: mom was gone, Seth was watching her, she went upstairs... She was wary but calm and answering questions to my back.
Then, I got a pancake on a plate, smothered it with syrup, cut off a hot, buttery piece dripping with syrup, held it up to her mouth, and said, "what room did you go in?" She eyed the pancake inches from her mouth, thought, and then looked me in the eye and said, "Seth's."
I fed her.
Her tone was different than when she lies. I knew she was telling the truth.
Asked the next question. She answered. I fed her. Asked the next question. She answered. I fed her.
She gave enough details that I believed her. She answered intentionally misleading questions ("did you play with a ball?" when there is no ball in there) correctly. It was as stupidly simple as I suspected. She just wanted to sneak in there because she knew she had the opportunity.
She lied about nothing. She lied because her first instinct is to lie. She kept lying because she can't admit she was lying.
As long as she keeps lying there will always be a lack of trust and connection. But, just as her finally reaching out to us for comfort during medical events gave us the opportunity to meet her physical needs in a loving way; I want her to change her "muscle memory" of reflexively panicking and lying and treating us like someone she's afraid of, and work through the process that leads to trusting. It's going to be intensive work and require lots and lots of opportunities for practice.
Luckily I'm pretty much a human bull dog in my tenacity and working kids through a process of intrinsic behavior change is my actual profession. Also, she's super young and stupid and tells ridiculous lies that are sadly easy to identify. Logic and reasoning--not her strong points. (E.g. telling me her sister, while inside her crib, got a toy from 6 feet away up off the floor and put it into her own crib with her.)
So, let's work on lying now while the lies are obvious and straight-forward.
In the past week I've had two successes. Once she admitted that she'd pooped her pants at the park with dad. Once she admitted that she'd put socks on Kate. In both situations I already knew the truth and was able to coach her along and demonstrate a positive response as she inched closer to the truth.
Also, in both situations there would be no consequence from me so I wouldn't confuse her by punishing a behavior that she'd told the truth about. (Because why in the world did she even lie about putting socks on Kate anyway? I was happy when I saw them on her because every sign of independence is exciting. But once that girl panics and lies she cannot back away from it and only digs herself deeper.)
Today we're facing a situation where I know she's lying but I don't know what she's lying about. It's a mystery I'm fascinated by.
This morning I was gone taking the puppy to the vet. Gus went with me. Theo was working upstairs in his office. Seth had the three littles playing downstairs with toys.
I came home just as Seth began asking Jane why she'd told him that dad needed to talk to him. Seth was annoyed because Jane was supposed to stay downstairs with him but he caught her sneaking back downstairs after being upstairs on her own. She tried to deflect by claiming she was delivering a message from dad to Seth, but this was easily disproved when Seth ran up to see what dad wanted and dad said he'd never even seen Jane let alone given her a message.
At that point Seth was done but my interest was piqued. Why did Jane lie when caught coming downstairs? What was she really doing up there? Opportunity!
So, the test--had she learned anything from two successes telling the truth?
Nope.
I waited till the house was quiet and then took her aside, held her on my lap and gently rocked her while I went through the script on lying vs. truth telling. I then took her downstairs and opened the freezer and showed her the popsicle she'd get if she told me the truth. I got her calm and relaxed and happy and talking and then gently asked her what she'd done upstairs while I was gone. Instant tears. Total panic. Complete guilt and fear.
If I'd wondered if she was lying before...I sure didn't after that intensely guilty response.
I calmed her down. Got her to stop crying. Talked about other things. Reassured her there would be no punishment. Reminded her of the prize for telling the truth. Circled around casually to the topic: instant panic, tears, guilt, fear repeat.
And that is where we've been all day. Five hours of no punishment--after she cries and refuses I give her a task she likes but that isn't quite free play with the others and ask her to think about the truth and please come tell me when she's ready to tell it. But every hour or so I circle back and prompt, again, for her to tell the truth. So, not making it a big, scary punishment event but also not letting her off the hook. And several times when I've prompted her it's been while the others are doing something she would like to join so I add the extra carrot of, "you get a popsicle and ___ if you tell the truth."
But she won't. She just cannot make herself tell the truth.
Her responses, when she gets close and wants to tell me but just can't make herself, are fascinating. Her vocabulary is radically more sophisticated than daily life.
"It's kind of embarrassing."
"This is hard to talk about."
"Why do I have to say it out loud?"
Her hedging and deflecting are well-practiced strategies,
"I think I went ____."
"Maybe I was in the ___."
And then she stares at me to see if I'll provide her with the information to fill in the blanks how I want them filled.
She's fallen asleep twice. This is exhausting work. Once in the past after a nap she awoke in a radically different mood and was able to completely confess to a slew of devious behavior that was shockingly sophisticated. I keep hoping that this will happen again after she wakes. But, I dunno.
I may never figure out what she did. And, honestly, it's probably something as silly as going into the boys' rooms and looking around when she isn't supposed to go in there (we've already looked around and haven't found anything broken or disturbed). She is hyper alert to everyone's whereabouts and the special opportunity of Gus being gone and Seth being occupied downstairs would've made the opportunity to go into "forbidden" territory pretty alluring.
If she doesn't confess by bedtime then I'll let it go. Tomorrow will be a new day. I'll chalk this up to a loss and hope for a truth-telling success in the future.
Update: I woke her from her nap, took her to the kitchen while I made pancakes (favorite food), chatted calmly with her while turned away so I was facing the stove and she could talk to my back. I began leading her through the morning: mom was gone, Seth was watching her, she went upstairs... She was wary but calm and answering questions to my back.
Then, I got a pancake on a plate, smothered it with syrup, cut off a hot, buttery piece dripping with syrup, held it up to her mouth, and said, "what room did you go in?" She eyed the pancake inches from her mouth, thought, and then looked me in the eye and said, "Seth's."
I fed her.
Her tone was different than when she lies. I knew she was telling the truth.
Asked the next question. She answered. I fed her. Asked the next question. She answered. I fed her.
She gave enough details that I believed her. She answered intentionally misleading questions ("did you play with a ball?" when there is no ball in there) correctly. It was as stupidly simple as I suspected. She just wanted to sneak in there because she knew she had the opportunity.
She lied about nothing. She lied because her first instinct is to lie. She kept lying because she can't admit she was lying.
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