That's Fit

I'm a fan of honesty when it comes to my kids and teaching them about life. Not brutal honesty -- they're only seven and nearly five -- but gentle and age-appropriate honesty. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago, saying I had cancer wouldn't mean much to a then-three-year-old and 18-month old. So I explained that I had a "boo-boo" in my "boobie," that a doctor would take it out, that I'd take medicine and my hair would fall out, that I'd be sick for a little while. They understood. And that's exactly how it all happened. We didn't talk about worst-case scenarios. If ever one comes up, we'll discuss it then.

I was also honest with my guys about the tummy tuck I had 12 days ago. I didn't use the word "tummy tuck" and I didn't introduce the term "plastic surgery." But I did tell them I would have an operation on my belly to fix some skin, a muscle, and a hernia. I told them the truth: Mommy's skin stretched a lot when she was pregnant, her muscle separated, and she has a hernia just like Danny had a hernia when he was three years old. Danny had an operation. And mommy will have an operation -- for the hernia and the other things too. My boys understood what would happen, that I'd be resting for a few days, that Daddy and Nana would be taking them to and from school, that I couldn't lift them or race around in the back yard for a short time. By the time I had my tummy tuck, the whole event was somewhat of an non issue. And now I'm better. And they've moved on.

Experts say not being up front with kids about major life events opens up the possibility that little minds will concoct their own versions of what's going on. Since these interpretations are often worse than reality, they say honestly is the best policy. I do too.