The Truth is I Was Cold-Hard Busted

So I haven't wanted to write about this because it was embarrassing and painful. But seeing as how a seemingly small marital event has me tweaking my views and my attempts at being a better human, it must be laid out.
About a month ago, I hired a maid--a great one, an inexpensive one. I was bringing in steady local deadlines, taking care of my boys and their schedules, had the in-laws coming on the horizon and had hubbie away 80+hrs per week. A no-brainer.
Now that I am done defending myself, the history here is that hiring a maid gets Kyle's hackles up. Let's just say that since I don't work outside of the home, he doesn't get it. (I also spoil him, but that's another blog entirely.)
So while the maid was here, I cleaned out closets, de-cluttered, got all the crap out from under the beds and did laundry down to the last unmatched sock. When he came home, he said (with underserved surprise), "Wow! Did you clean all day?" And I said, "Yes."
Not exactly the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but--in and of itself--truthful enough. But really, is that actually different from a white lie?
So that interface passes by, with me sweeping my crumbs of guilt under my newly cleaned carpets, until the boys come home. BB walks in and asks, (again undeservedly!), "Mom, did the maid come today?" And I said, "No."
Not the whole truth and nothing having to do with the truth. Ugh.
Sure enough it came to blows with Kyle later, because if anything, we are honest with each other. He was beyond upset. I could only self-flaggelate until he believed I was sincerely sorry and I was. Because really, WHY DID I DO THAT? It's annoying, beneath me and petty. All to avoid a snotty comment from him--one that very likely would never have led to any type of argument.
I try to talk to my boys about having hearts of courage, especially when the truth seems daunting, but here I was slinking out the side-door-of-silly-falsehoods for no good reason.
During my apologies, I really wanted to scream and scratch and claw, "I did it because I don't trust you to have an appropriate response to these things. I did it because I wish you would just walk in my shoes for a change to see that my life can also be exhausting and stressful due to your crazy work-life. I lied because I just wanted a damn "pass" for a change." Thankfully for our marriage, I did no such crazy thing. We did discuss--later, much later--some of my feelings, but the fact remained that the argument (or more TRUTHFULLY, the apology session) was about lying, not about cleaning or walking in the wrong size shoes.
And now a month later, I am even more relieved I didn't make (too) many excuses or try to turn the tables because I realized something about lying. While my defenses stemmed from being busted in a bold faced lie, it turns out my logic was completely off. By lying, I stole Kyle's opportunity to understand or respond empathetically. If I really want him to learn to see my side, then I have to give him the chance to do so. And really this to me is one of the most self-loathing parts about the white lie--or any other 'small' sin we choose to indulge in--we lock ourselves into the pattern or situation we most wanted to change in the first place. If I want more time for myself, why fudge the details about how long I'll be at the gym or at dinner with a friend. If I want to lose weight, why pretend like I didn't eat those M&M's or that I didn't skip the workout all week? If I want Kyle to understand that I get tired and overwhelmed, WHY THE HELL WOULD I PRETEND I COULD HANDLE IT ALL?!!!?
Even during months when money is tight, I have a tendency to 'shelter' Kyle and put money matters in terms that sound more easily ingestible. I do it because I worry that he has a hard time being realistic about what a 'crisis' really is and I hate watching him get so worked up (and thus work even harder) to remedy a situation that will pass on its own with a little diligence and a lot of patience. But, here again, I am stealing away chances for him to learn this at all.
I know that I hate difficult times, emotions, situations. Who doesn't? But I also know that I learn a lot from them. I hate that too, but it's TRUE.
Hiding behind untruths and defending our choice to engage in them doesn't actually smooth the edges of a sharp life. It carves the patterns that injure us the most. Every lie wears a path away from our best selves and the lives God intends for us to live.
I am right when I tell the boys that it takes a heart of courage to tell the truth. I just didn't realize courage is bold enough to heal old wounds and bless me with growth.