Do you ever tell your kid a little lie, just to get through the moment? Just the other day, I told my four-year-old he will only get taller by eating Life cereal, not by eating Lucky Charms. I was trying to lead him to the less-sugary breakfast option—and he bought it. But now I feel bad.  New research from the University of Toronto and the University of California at San Diego takes a closer look at how often “parenting by lying” takes place.

Studies showed parents reported they told their young kids that bad things would happen if they didn’t go to bed or eat what they were supposed to.  Another study looked at college students’ recollections about their parents’ lying and concluded parents often do lie to their kids, even as they tell them lying is not acceptable!

The findings show that even the parents who most strongly promoted “honesty is the best policy” lied to their kids.  My little lies make me feel a little bit guilty about just trying to get through the day.

“If you don’t get find your baseball glove and get into the car right this minute so we can get to your game on time, you will never get a team t-shirt in any season ever again,” I threatened my son. He looked concerned and on the verge of tears, but he got in there. Two minutes later, he was happily chewing bubble gum and singing “Shake It.”  Did I do any harm?  I don’t think so. But I may never know—until there are study findings on actual harm done by a little lying.

It is presently 4:32 a.m. and I have been lying awake since around 3:30. I finally decided to get up and make better use of my time – though honestly, sleeping would be better use of my time – after several futile attempts to stop my brain from racing with unproductive thoughts. I say unproductive because, while I would normally consider an onslaught of remembering things I have to do productive, it’s not really productive in the middle of the night. And, truth be told, I’m not sure how vital any of the things I am thinking of are.

Now, to be sure, some of the things that popped to mind need to be remembered – paying tuition for my kids, remembering what time school starts tomorrow and that my daughter has ballet after class, remembering a specific folder for a conference call in the morning, and so on – but many, if not most, are not vital. For example, it’s not vital for me to remember that I need to change the wreath on my front door from summer to autumn, but at 3:30 in the morning, the thought sticks in my brain and I fear I may not remember it in the morning. God forbid. I mean seriously, the neighbors aren’t going to petition to have me removed from the community because of this. And yet, the wheels turn, and turn, and turn.

I usually have a pad of paper in the bathroom for emergencies like this, but it ran out about a month ago and I have yet to replace it (another thing to remember). This usually helps in these moments when reason lapses and I spiral into, “What else do I have to do? What else do I have to do?”

I think what lies beneath all of this is that these mostly useless thoughts are an attempt to gain some sense of order or control over life when I am overwhelmed. I clearly am right now. Work is manic, and we’ve said goodbye to the at-least-slightly-calmer summer days and are back to being – as a fellow mom says – on the hamster wheel.

So, here I sit, trying to wrestle control in an uncontrollable world. The saving grace of having gotten up is now clear. I am better able to recognize what of these must-do things is actually important: fall decorations are clearly not. I did, indeed, pay my kids’ tuition (go, mom!). And, I’ve managed to have a moment to myself, in a quiet house, before the next round of madness begins. It’s only too bad that I will be ready to go back to bed by 3 p.m. this afternoon. But then, perhaps, sleep will come easier tonight.

Maybe it’s the dog days of summer, or the fact that my nanny was an hour late without calling this morning, but today my new job and juggler life is making me sort of melancholy, especially when I visit Facebook from my desk, Subway veggie sandwich in hand.  I see so many of my Connections posting hyper-happy updates about heading to the beach, enjoying the beach, loving the perfect beach day, etc. 

Part of me would love to write my update on Facebook:  “Hi, here in my windowless office in week six of my new job, kicking myself for forgetting to slather on the sunless tanning lotion this morning. Headed to see my divorce attorney in my never-ending litigation battle. Heading into the Virginia-to-Maryland commute for my corporate job while I’m dying to be creative.  Heading home to start my second job as mom. Headed toward 9pm, when I can sit and relax for the first time all day.”

If I sound bitter, I don’t mean to.  Really–that’s not me!  It’s just that I’ve become a real “Juggler” since I went from freelance communications consultant to full-time worker last month. I do love my life, my kids, my dog, my friends, the special person in my life - even my new commitment to running.  But, some days, eating frosted Miniwheats for a mid-afternoon snack, sniffing my four-year-old’s freshly shampooed head at 8pm and watching HGTV’s “Design Star” with my kids before bed are the highlights of my day.  That’s okay, right?

About me:
I am a mom of two very energetic boys, ages 4 and 8, and I am beginning a new juggling act:  Six weeks ago, I just began a full-time job at a major consulting firm – after working on my own as a Freelance Writer and Communications Consultant for three years. Armed with a stylish new suit, a stringent schedule, a 40-minute commute each way (quite a change from going down a flight of stairs at my house to work on the deck!), an actual boss and office politics, I’m setting out to make sense of my whole new world.  Did I also mention I am newly separated, just started running for the first time in my life and training for an October 10k, joined a gym I can’t find time to get to, have a new nanny who I’m paying a fortune to, one son in preschool that doesn’t start for TEN more days, and have a sick Pug? Oh, and I am getting my house ready to sell.