Honesty has its own sense of humor.

When we were kids, one of the biggest things my parents instilled into us was to be honest. This isn't an unusual parenting tactic, it's actually very common. You are more trustworthy, friends tend to turn to you for the best advice, knowing you aren't 'buttering it' just to make them feel better.

I believe in honesty. I teach it to my own children. I practice it every time I open my mouth. There are times when honesty arrives gently, and others when it storms in and punches you in the face. Which is why I say, honesty has a sense of humor.

Honesty is morally good ,right?

Most people will even say it several times over in their life times " I just want you to be honest with me." Admit it- you've done it too.

But when that honest reply is given, those same people decide its not the one they wanted, which turns honesty into a bad thing.

I'm not saying that honesty is bad in general, and everyone should become compulsive liars as of this reading!

I've realized I've had to hand out some doozies in my honesty. When working in child care, and as a consultant, I've had to tell parents there was something developmentally wrong with their child, I've had to tell them that there's something wrong with their parenting. For the sake of the children , it's my job to give this information. It isn't always taken very well. But these are examples of when honesty , delivered as gently as possible, will still punch you in the face, because its not what they wanted to hear.

There's even patterns to legal honesty, and this one just amuses me to no end. Every time I've had to go to court ,(be it for bills or traffic tickets) the pure honesty I speak seems to baffle the Judges I must speak to. Its as if they aren't used to hearing it plan and simply honest. (which I'm sure IS the case, but a sad situation ,at that.

Having studied psychology doesn't make it any easier. If you ask me for an honest answer, not only will I give you just that, but I can explain at least 3 reasons to make it reasonable, along with the effects on anyone involved. When dealing with children and families, those effects go further than you'd think. When dealing with my own friends or family, they expect nothing less from me, yet still react shockingly when they don't like it.

There's also the minority of "neutral" events- the day to day issues that really seem insignificant.
For example , when a friend asks you what you think of their new outfit, the pride and joy of their shopping day... you inwardly vomit with despair, that your friend actually spent money on such an item,let alone that its been mass- produced and sent out into public.... and honestly reply " those colors just don't do it for me. " Ok, fair enough. neutral. personally I don't like your outfit, but you obviously do, so I won't tell you it's awful, just that its awful for me.
Neutrals are more gentle opinion answers.

I've earned a nickname for my ironic honesty. Because I am so straightforward in my honesty, the good intent of it will cause a major problem. I've yet to really understand how it works.

You ask me a question, because you would like my opinion, or my advice.
I answer honestly.
You don't like the answer.
Were you asking me to lie to you?
no.
Am I that badly wrong?
no. (and many will admit they can see how I 'could be' right!)

And from there it becomes a kind of argument. Most likely because the question involved a sensitive subject. They don't like the answers, because at times the answers are hurtful. Plain and simple, honesty can be painful, the truth hurts.
It becomes an argument because admitting a hurtful mistake is one of the largest denials out there. Now, the asker tries to prove the honesty wrong, especially if they know the reply they got was dead-on correct.

I have learned, that there is a very simple reply to the reaction of defensiveness explained above.

If you don't want an honest answer, you should know better than to ask me.

I live in The Nuthouse, and don't have time to make up an answer that fits your motives or agenda.

The human mind is truly a dysfunctional organ.

Had a scary morning...

I've recently been thinking of renaming this blog... "torment from the tank."

No, folks, I'm not referring to the tanks my plumber husband works on (thank God!)

I'm referring to the fish tanks, and the torment they put me through on a regular basis.

My daughter has a Betta fish. It has its own tank in her room, because, well, it likes to eat other fish. not a friendly critter. Daughter has very diligently set up the tank, and cares for her fish oh so carefully.

As with the other tank, Mama gets to clean the betta's tank as well.

Today I realized we'd been putting off the usual cleaning for too long. That tank was funky nasty, and I was somewhat amazed to see the fish still swimming in there.
Time to git-er-done.

So, I got my handy dandy fish net, asked Husband if he wanted to go fishin with me, haha which of course got him as excited as if I'd asked the kids if they wanted to go to disneyland. . . until he saw me with the net!
Awww, poor hubby...

Off to work. I scooped the fish out of the tank, and put him in the jar we use while cleaning the tank. Today for some reason he flipped a bit more than usual in the net.

When I put him into the jar, he just floated to the bottom, and, may I say, at an unusual twisted position. I looked very closely, and his gills were going, so he wasn't dead.

maybe just shocked a bit. ( hmm, maybe at the fact I finally remembered the tank was nasty!)

so I went ahead and cleaned the tank, and all its fun little accessories. filled it up with fresh water, checked the temperatures, started the filter up..and checked back on the fish.

the fish hadn't moved, but the gills were still going.

Oh NO!! she's had this fish almost 2 years, and I killed it by cleaning the tank. OOOOOHHHH nooo! Husband thinks I'm exaggerating. no, seriously, the thing hasn't moved... its 'breathing' though, oh my God, do you think I could have paralyzed it somehow with the net?? How on earth do I explain THIS? "honey I tried to clean the fish tank today, your betta did a little extra wiggling and got paralyzed?"

oh no... no no no ... this is bad.

Husband says " its shocked. leave it alone, it'll be fine"

but look at the weird bend in the middle of its body!! do you suppose I somehow broke its back?? If its not swimming before she gets home, .... holy cow, how do you euthanize a FISH? really!! it can't swim, it can't eat, if it can't eat- thats a slow painful death I don't want to be responsible for!!

Husband says "leave it alone, you spaz, just check it in an hour"

easy for you to say pal. I returned the fish to the tank, again an odd scenario- the fish did not swim hurredly out of the jar- it sort of, well, sank out of the jar. oh jeez, cmoon fishie, SWIM!!
It proceeded to sink to the bottom of its freshly cleaned tank.

When daughter returned home, I explained to her I wasn't sure what was wrong with her fish- either it was shocked silly, and would be ok, or it was somehow badly hurt and couldn't swim anymore- which was bad. Being 8 years old, and having been through several fish, and a very much-loved dog, this was not what she wanted to hear.

"if he can't swim, mama, he'll starve! can we take him to the pet store to get him fixed up? "

(oh breaking my heart here !) um, honey, it doesn't quite work that way with fish. if he can't eat, he'll die, but if he's just shocked, he'll wake up and be ok... (trying to keep the positives out there!)

"do we get him a shot, like we did with the dog, so he doesn't hurt so bad?"

weell... um... no. if he isn't swimming more by tomorrow, he's hurt badly- and we'll have to find a way to end his suffering.

(i did not want to tell her the only way I could think of was to remove it from the water!)

Daughter had a bit of a cry, and we talked about it, she's had the fish a long time, as far as fish go he's getting old, she's been asking for other fish anyway, we can go look this week and see what she likes.... besides, he may be ok after all, we'll watch him and see how he does.

ok.

WE all went to visit some friends for a few hours, the kids had a great time... On the way home Daughter reminds me about how when we had gone for a visit one day, returning home, her first golfish had died.
yea hon I remember..( oooh please, please don't let that fish still be comatose!)

When we got home, Daughter beat me to the tank.
"MOOOOMMMMYYYY mom!! mom!! hurry!!!! "

oh no...

"He's in his CAVE ,Mama!! he MOVED!"

when I approached the tank, the fish gave a little spurt of a swim, and.... much to my delight, hovered above the rocks, like he should!

I'll be.....
"he's gonna be OK mama!! he IS! I just KNOW it!!"

He does look a bit better hon, and look, he even ate his food! But, we'll keep an eye on him, and make sure he stays better ok?

WHEW!!!

Husband again , fought the urge, and lost- to say "I told you so"

we're still watching the fish.

***11/8/09 update : the betta is fine! can't tell you how happy i was to see him recuperate by the next morning! ***

Fishcorn and owl poop , oh my! !

My daughter(8) and I had some very interesting topics this evening.

We were in the car, headed for an after school activity. I've found these little drives with only one of the children can be very enlightening, as to what goes on in their worlds.

" Mommy? Can we grow corn from fish like the indians did? Like, in our own garden?"

Corn from fish? HUH?

She explains that in her social studies class they talked about how the indians taught the pilgrims to grow corn with fish.
"they planted the raw fish, and had big corn fields mama."

um.

"hon, the only thing I can think that means is that the indians showed the pilgrims how to make the soil better putting fish into it- making compost soil. kind of like the manure mix we use for our gardens. it gives the plants more nutrients. "

" the corn grew though mama."

"well, yea- the corn grew after they planted the seeds- the corn didn't grow out of the fish. they had to plant seeds."

hmmm. oooh ok.

fish corn.... she caught me off guard with that one.

but. now, thinking back on it, she may have simply been preparing me for the doozy up her sleeve.

We drive quietly a bit, and the next thing she says is " my teacher said we'd going to do a really gross experiment mom." (this came complete with grossed-out-girly-squirm)

oh yea?

"yea, we have to touch OWL poop!"

oh gross., thats nasty.

"she said we'd have to bring gloves to touch it, but we'd have to find stuff in it!"

This is where the science concept hit me. . .

"oh hey! you know what, that could be cool, because owls don't reallt digest food."

"what's that mean?"

"well- what they eat they poop. you find little bones, stuff they've eaten."

"ooh. can I have some gloves mama? oh but that GROSS, I have to touch owl poop! ""why do I have to wear gloves though?"

oh dear.
"because its still poop! You don't just sit around and play in poop- its nasty and ..and... germy! you'll get sick..."

and the sillies hit her. I was openly discussing poop with an 8 year old.

"You play in poop mama"

:no I don't- thats nasty!"

"you changed alot of diapers, yea you did!"

"oh YUK. Thats different from looking for bones in owl poop hon! And i really wan't having fun!"

desperate to redirect her sillies, I tell her I'd love to know when they'll be doing this project, because it would be fun to watch.

"oh mama you wouldn't touch owl poop?"

um. Maybe with the gloves.

"I double dare you mama. you have to do it if I do it. "
(and what if Mama decides not to go to the school at all that day? I have that choice!HAHA)

"ok girl. you're on. I'll ask her about it ."

and she explains how the teacher is still looking for someone to let her have owl poop.

Some days, you just have to smile, shake your head, and giggle, just a little.

**UPDATE : two weeks later I picked up a very excited child from school. they had indeed, done a science project which consisted of searching for recognizable bits and peices of small critters in owl vomit. . My daughter said they had found a tiny little beak, bones, and some fur which belonged to a vole. I am personally torn between disappointed and glad that i missed this event.**