Sweet Little Lies

There is a scene in Sleepless in Seattle where Meg Ryan is on a plane sitting next to one of the Ephron sisters (the screenwriters), and So-and-So Ephron observes that Meg's character looks anguished over something.

Ephron says, "Don't you hate flying?" To which Meg replies, "Yes, and I just told the most awful one to the man I'm about to marry. Do you think any lie is a betrayal?"

I'm contemplating this question as I realize I'm in a pattern of telling Turbo little white lies. I believe they are all for the greater good, usually for better sleep, and yet I think part of me does feel a little guilty. Or maybe not. I'm sure it's not the last time I'll have to fib to my kids. They don't get to know all the secrets this young, do they? Santa, anyone?

For example, the lie I seem to be saying these days is, "I'll be right back." It goes a little something like this.

Middle of the night cries from Turbo, "Mommyyyyyyyyyyy. Mommyyyyyyyyy!"

I quietly enter Turbo's room (which he shares with Smiley, by the way... tricky), and soothe him back to  what I think is full-on sleep and as I'm trying to creep slowing out of the room, he cries out again, "Mommyyyy. Come my bed."

Now, I could repeat all my magical soothing work, which I've done countless times over the nearly 3 years he's been in our lives, but instead I tiptoe back to his bed, lean down to kiss him, smooth the wispy hair from his forehead and whisper:

"Mommy has to go potty, Turbo. I'll be right back."

or

"Mommy has to take out her contacts. I'll be right back. You wait here."

And it works pretty much every time. He believes I'm coming back, so it settles him and I don't have to stick around for the (potentially) really long haul where I sometimes fall asleep myself in an uncomfortable, squashed-in-a-twin-bed position.

But, luckily, he's a great sleeper now so this doesn't even happen that often. I wish I could go back to the mom I was when Turbo was 8 months old and reassure myself that his awful sleep habits would not last. Sometimes I miss those late night snuggles with 8-month-old Turbo.

Luckily, I have another one. And she's a great snuggle buddy.