Don't Ask and I Won't Have to Lie--guest blog by Beverly Mahone

Dear Readers--today I have guest blogger, Beverly Mahone, who shares a chapter in her new book "Don't Ask and I Won't Have to Lie"....Pat


EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 2: Because Mommy Said So
To understand why we lie, we need not look any further than our own mothers. They are the ones who taught us how to lie and when those lies were appropriate. Of course we, as little girls, never wanted to believe our mommies would do such a thing, but they did—just as their mothers more than likely lied to them.

The experts call it parenting by lying. (Heyman, Luu, & Lee, Volume 38, Issue 3 September 2009) It’s a strategy—and a very successful one I might add—used to manipulate a young child’s behavior and emotions. Our mothers warned us about all the bad things that would happen if we didn’t do what they told us to do. They even conned us into good behavior all year long by reminding us that Santa Claus wouldn’t bring us any toys if we were naughty.

Once, my inquiring mind wanted to know how Santa was able to get into our home since we had no chimney. How was I to know at the time that my mother was telling a bold-faced lie when she said Santa had a special key to unlock the door?

The trauma of losing my baby teeth was always glossed over with a visit from the Tooth Fairy, who never failed to leave a nice, shiny quarter. How was I to know there was no such creature who had wings, could fly up to my second-floor bedroom, unlock the window, come in, sneak a quarter under my pillow and be gone without making a sound?

On the flip side: What about those times our mothers forced us to lie to them? They told you not to do something. You did it anyway. They confronted you. What did you do? You lied so you wouldn’t get in trouble.

Isn’t it ironic that our moms spent so much time preaching "honesty is the best policy" while steadily lying to us about this or that? The other irony is the fact that sometimes their lies were

meant to protect us from hurt or just to make us happy. In a strange kind of way this could be perceived as a part of a mother’s nurturing process.

There was the time I remember making an ashtray as my Mother’s Day gift. It looked okay going into the kiln, but when it came out of the fiery furnace, it looked more like a foreign object. Despite my embarrassment, disappointment, and tears, I painted it red wrapped it up, and gave it to Lillian.

When she opened her gift, you would’ve thought I had given her a piece of gold jewelry with the way she reacted. She kept talking about how beautiful it was and placed it right on the coffee table in the living room for everyone to see.

To this day, she still has that little red ashtray I made in kindergarten 47 years ago—plus another ugly pink one I made in first grade. That’s one lie I was very happy to hear.

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In Beverly's new book, Don’t Ask and I Won’t Have to Lie, she tells her life story as she deals with her own moral conscience while discovering some of the “truths” behind the “lies” she has heard and told.

Beverly Mahone, http://www.beverlymahone.com/, is a veteran journalist, author, radio talk show host and motivational speaker who primarily talks about issues affecting middle-aged women. She also hosts her own radio show called The Boomer Beat every Thursday from 1pm – 2pm on WCOM Radio in Carrboro, NC.

Beverly has been classified as a baby boomer expert by the media and has appeared on numerous radio and talk programs including My Carolina Today.

Cured of Ovarian Cancer!

"He said that as far as he was concerned I was cured." These are the words my beautiful daughter just shared with me over the phone as she drove home from her GYN oncologist' s office. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer 5 years ago, just before she turned 30. Many of you know the amazing miraculous story of how we found it, but I am no going into that today. So few women can speak those words about ovarian cancer that this is truly a miracle.

Today is about celebration. I was expecting that result because she has done so well but when she said the words, I could not speak at first. As I choked out the first phrases of joy, the tears started and are still flowing as I write this. Thank you God. Thank you doctors and nurses. Thank you Benton--someday we will tell you the story of how you saved your mommy's life. Thank you to all her friends and family who came together in such a wonderful way over these last 5 years.

Today I cannot remember being as grateful for anything since I gave birth to my healthy babies as I am this minute. And I cannot stop crying. It feels like I am releasing 5 years of unspoken fears and frustration for all the anguish my baby had to go through. In my heart I knew this would be the outcome, but when I finally heard it said, the joy was unspeakable.

I am so happy. Thanks for letting me share it with you.

Parenting Lessons from Jared Loughner

When I hear something that seems as senseless and vile as the shooting this week in Arizona, I try to find a positive or a lesson from it. Nothing in life is completely random. It seems clear that this young man who shot all those people, had a plan. But it is also evident that he was troubled. I have read comments about him in which a professor was afraid to turn his back on him and that he talked to himself and was a loner.

My heart goes out to all the victims of the shooting. It also goes out to Jared's parents. From all accounts, they are completely devastated. That is understandable. Their statement made yesterday broke my heart. However, there are questions that need to asked--not to judge them, but to ask ourselves if it is possible this could occur in our own lives with our children.

What can parents learn from this mutiple tragedy? After much thought, it seems apparent to me that we must see our children for who they are, not who we want them to be. Parents everywhere have dreams for their offspring. We always want to believe in the best in them and see them in the best light. Sadly, many parents carry it a little to far and refuse to see the troubled child living in their home.

To neighbors and teachers, Jared was a troubled person and had been that way for many years. Did he have a form of Autism Spectrum Disorder? Did he have multiple personalities? Was he bipolar? Was there a treatable malady distorting his mentation? Was he sociopathic? Who knows?

I have made so many mistakes with my parenting that I will never say that any parent did a bad job. Who knows what went on in their home. Maybe these parents tried over and over to get help for him. At age 22, that was hardly still an option--he is of age and can only make those decisions for himself. And, from personal experience, I know that you cannot help someone who doesn't want help.

Also as parents, we cannot plan our children's lives as adults. They have to make their own way and walk their own path. There are many stories of wonderful parents who had children who went astray. There is no way to predict when this will happen, or to which families. If we have done all we can as parents and our child chooses to walk a dark path, we should have no guilt for that. It is their choice.

But, my point today is that we must look at and really SEE our children. Are they having trouble in school? Having issues with relationships? Unable to keep a job? Disrespectful to us or to others? Are one person one day and a different one the next? Is your gut telling you that something is wrong, even though your heart is begging you not to believe it? Listen to what your children say. Read what they write on social media sites and blogs and slips of paper in their room. Pay attention and take action if warranted.

I pray none of you ever have to go through what any of the affected families are suffering. I pray my family never has to either.

If Only I Didn't Love My Kids So Much...

From the first moment I held my babies and looked into their eyes, I was forever in love with them. The overpowering feeling was like nothing I could have ever imagined. It is funny how that feeling never goes away--even when they are adults and have their own lives. As the new year rolls in, I have spent a little time in reflection and have the following to share.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, I would have gotten a lot more sleep, rather than sleeping on the floor next to their crib or bed when they were sick--staying awake most of the night to make sure they were okay. But then I might have missed something I could have done for them or I might have missed the moonlight reflected on the sweet innocent sleeping faces that I can still see today.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, I would have shed fewer tears. They didn't see the times when I had to punish them, then went to my room and cried because of it. Or the times when they were in pain--physical or emotional--I cried as many tears as they did. It is so hard to see someone you love so much hurting and not be able to do anything about it. But then, when they were little, I would not have been able to kiss the boo-boo with enough feeling to make it better.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, I would have had so much more time for myself. Instead of going to concerts, practices, ballgames, activities, and such, I could have been out having fun with my friends. But then, I would have missed the best times of my life.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, I would not get my feeling hurt as often. Unintentional and the very rare intentional, slights from my children wouldn't matter to me. It is hard to understand that the love a child has for a parent is different than the love a parent has for a child. For a mom, our child become who is now an adult was once the baby that grew within her, the one she nursed and protected, the one she corrected and guided. It is a special feeling that appears in no other relationship. So we moms sometimes get our feelings hurt if we feel we have been slighted. But then, I would not be the person I am if I didn't care that much.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, I could have spared them more pain in life. I could have protected them from life more often and not let anything ever hurt them, just like I promised them when they were babies. But then, they would not be the resilient resourceful adults they are now. To love them means letting them learn that they can fall and get back up. It also means teaching them to take responsibility for their decisions and their actions.

If only I didn 't love my kids so much, I would not feel empty on holidays when I have share them with in-laws. Don't get me wrong, I love all the in-laws my kids have brought into our lives and I understand they love their children (and mine) as much as I do. It is just hard to share sometimes. But then, it makes me appreciate the times we are together so much more. I truly value the moments when my kids go out of their way to spend time with me. It is a wonderful gift.

If only I didn't love my kids so much, my life would be so empty. The joy they have brought me is immeasureable. And now we have added stepchildren and spouses and grandchildren to the family so we number 25. And the joy of Christmas was enhanced with the news that the 26th member of the family will be here in August. I am truly blessed.