I lied to my kid. You should too.

This may sound like odd advice from a supposed parenting expert, but I believe it is sometimes important to lie to children, that ‘good’ lying is one of the cornerstones of positive parenting.

Let’s face it, all parents lie, and those who say they don’t, aren’t telling the truth. We lie to our kids to avoid conflict and public meltdowns. We lie to make our kids feel better about themselves, to shield them from feelings of failure or disappointment. We lie to our kids to make the world seem like a friendlier, saner place. All good situations for well-crafted lies in my opinion.

A good lie doesn’t serve a parent’s own needs, or allow a parent not to take responsibility for wrong doing or bad decisions. A good lie is well crafted to help create a greater sense of security and well-being in a small child, who can’t and shouldn’t have to process criticism, marital conflict, the insanity of war or random violence. Used wisely, a good lie can go a long way, especially with children under the age of eight.

Here are a few examples of do’s and don’ts of good and bad lying, and pitfalls to avoid.

• DON’T voice self-criticisms around your kids. Contain your tendencies to say “That was really stupid of me” or “I am such a fat pig” or “I can’t get it together”, even if you really believe it. You are a god to your child, and don’t forget it, even when they whine, “I hate you! You’re mean!” If your kid hears you refer to yourself as fat/lazy/stupid it sets them up to question their own self worth. (“If Mommy thinks she’s stupid, and I think she’s the smartest person on the planet, how stupid does that make me?”)

• DON’T expose your kids to your personal anxieties and fears. You may worry the world is going to hell in a hand basket. Your finances may be in the toilet. Your marriage may be falling apart. DON’T let on, lie. Put on an act, cultivate that happy face, even if you feel like Chicken Little and you’re convinced the sky is about to fall. Keep it to yourself, share it after bedtime with your partner, talk to a friend, or save it for therapy.

• DON’T fight in front of your kids. But if you do (and most couples do), here’s a lie I strongly suggest. You must “kiss and/or hug to make-up” in front of your kids, even if you’re still seething and eager to rip your partner’s hair out. It’s been proven that most kids younger than eight years old don’t understand any kind of apology other than a physical one. If your kids don’t see you “kiss/hug and make-up” they’ll think you’re still mad at each other and think it is their fault even if you tell them repeatedly it isn’t. So suck it up like grown-ups, lie and pretend everything is okay. Kiss/hug and make-up in front of them and save real resolution or further arguing for another time.

• DO admit to your own mistakes, but model self-reflection, not self-bashing. Let them hear you process a mistake and how you might do a better job next time. Let them hear you voice desires to be better at things you’re not so good at. But do this all with a heavy seasoning of self-love and compassion.

• DO shower your kids with praise. Hang every picture or finger painting possible on every surface you’re willing to give up, even if you think the artwork is pretty lame. Shower kids with kudos for klutzy dance performances or fumbled soccer games. Kvell over every effort, as long as they seem to be passionate about what they’re doing. Some parents worry that unconditional praise creates a false sense of mastery in children. That lying to them about your real opinion creates little ego-manical narcissists. I disagree. As children get older there are plenty of external sources of criticism for them to contend with. Wait until they’re school-aged to be more discerning, to help them identify their own likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. Let your child’s inevitable exposure to failure and disappointment start from another source and your job will naturally shift to one of empathy and realistic expectations. But for now? Use lying as loving. Every effort your child makes is a nugget of gold.

Originally published in A Child Grows in Brooklyn on February 23, 2009