Doing something wrong

In a post dated March 10th, 2005 I wrote the following:

I hate to be lied to, more than anything else in the entire world. You can insult me, hit me, steal from me, cheat on me, anything...but just don't fucking lie to me. And what's weird is that I have a sixth sense when it comes to lying. I always know when someone close to me is lying. My daughter NEVER gets away with lying, I always know when she isn't telling the truth. The hubby never got away with it either. Exboyfriends, family, other friends...I just always know. And it's not just a paranoia that I think they're lying. I truly know when they tell big lies, I even know when they tell little white lies.

I can forgive lots of things, but I can't forgive lying to me. The sad thing is that everyone close to me is fully aware of that yet they still try to lie at times rather than just own up to whatever it is and be honest. If you tell me the truth I may be disappointed or upset, but I'm willing to work through that. If you lie to me, forget it...you've broken my trust and it may be next to impossible to repair it, though for most people it will never be repaired and I cut them out of my life.

As a result, it pains me something awful that my daughter has chosen to lie to me yet again. I thought we were passed all this after last summer when she was caught twice lying about shit she'd done and trying to pass off blame to her friends. I thought I was raising my child to be an honest and trustworthy human being, but apparently she's either not learning the lesson or I'm failing as a mother.

Last night she asks if she can sleep over at a friend's house on Friday night. For most people that wouldn't raise any suspicion, but immediately warning bells are going off in my head. That sixth sense kicked in and I knew she was hiding something from me so I told her I'd think about it. Despite this girl being one of her best friends, in the three years she has known her I think she has only slept over at her house twice, one of those times because she was having a slumber party for her birthday. That coupled with the fact the kiddie has this new boyfriend is what triggered the alarm.

So at around 2 am, when I knew none of her friends would be online, I logged in to her MySpace account. Sure enough, right there in the comments was a message from her boyfriend telling her that a friend of his is having a small party on Friday and that she should lie to me in order to go. Just as disturbing was another comment that said because my daughter & her friend couldn't just crash at the party house all night, that he'd have to invite another friend of his that didn't drink so the girls could get a ride home. If his friend couldn't come, then he'd wouldn't be able to get as drunk so he could drive them home...but he still planned on drinking.

Not only that, she stayed after school yesterday for play practice and then to watch the basketball game. I was expecting her to call for a ride home afterwards, but shortly after 7 pm she's knocking on the front door. She told me she had gotten a ride home with a girlfriend and her brother. Turns out that was a fucking lie as well. The plans to have her boyfriend drive her home were also listed on her MySpace comments.

And as if that weren't enough, there were several lies to her friends as well, some apparently to garner sympathy. One about having a friend that is dying of cancer, another about having a close friend named Sarah that moved away to Canada and yet another about having a friend that committed suicide. There were other small ones, like having gone out and jogged one day, that I can only guess were made to make it seem like she does more than sit at home most nights. There was also one about her father, saying that she hates him and that he's only been a part of her life for the last year. The last half is a lie and I can only hope that the part about hating him is too.

I was so upset after reading all this that I never got to sleep last night. I couldn't let go of the anger and disappointment. I called the ex before I took the kiddie to school and told him we needed to talk as soon as he gets out of work. Explained a little about what was going on.

On the way to school, I asked her if she'd heard what I said to her father since she was in the next room and the door was open. She said no, so I simply told her she was so completely busted it was even funny. That I thought I was raising her to be honest and trustworthy, but that I was apparently way wrong about that. My final comment to her was that by the end of the night, she was going to think her parents were the worst people in the world.

Another quote from part of a post, this one made on November 26th, 2004...

Love the thanks I get for being the only parent she really seems to have. Makes me feel as if I'm wasting my time staying alive to be with her because she apparently has no appreciation for my existence...another trait she seems to have picked up from her father.

I'm now wondering if I should just let her live with her father. I thought I was raising her right, but it seems I'm doing something terribly wrong.