I am so grateful for Lady GaGa. Seriously. If nothing else, she gives me a popular cultural reference for my Postulations on Parenting.

And just so I’m clear, I don’t own any GaGa. I’ve only heard her on the radio and seen an occasional music video on VH1’s top 20 countdown.

But like it or not, Lady GaGa is on to something.

I’ll just tell you the useful part of her lyrics, because quite frankly, her double entendres are not all that ambiguous, and this is a family blog.

She says:

Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got to love nobody)

P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)

Figured out where I’m going yet?

Little kids are honest. So honest, they’re not the least bit afraid to tell you how fat that lady is standing ahead of you at the grocery checkout.

You glare at your kid, hoping he or she can see by the look on your face that it’s not okay to say those things. At least not where people outside of your family can hear.

That’s the point where kids start learning to filter what they say based on where they are and who is listening.

Pretty soon, thanks to your facial expressions, they figure out what kind of information YOU can handle, and what kind makes your eyebrows shoot all the way up into your hairline.

After that, they’re very careful to never give you too much information again. Not if they can avoid it, anyway.

But the LAST thing you want is for your kids to go mute, especially as they become teenagers and it’s crucial for you to know what’s up with them.

PoP #4: Go GaGa for your kids – give them a p-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face.

If you can flatten out your expressions like you’ve been soaking your face in botox, they’ll never know when they’ve hit TMI.

I admit I was never as good at it as I wanted to be. There were times Zach would tell me something and follow it quickly with, “Lower your eyebrows, Heida.”

But I was good enough at it that Jen and Zach both felt safe telling me what was going on in their lives.

I’m pretty sure Jen’s friends knew she told me everything because they knew she and I were best friends.

But there were times Zach would say to his friends, “I was talking to Heida about such and such, and she said…” That’s about as far as he’d get before his friends would blurt, “You told your MOM about that?”

They had a hard time understanding why Zach would give me details on subjects they would NEVER bring up with their moms.

The poker face strategy was one I knew I’d employ when I was very young. There were all sorts of things I would have told my mom, but she had a very expressive face, and a favorite phrase, “Oh garbage.”

I know her reactions were intended to help me understand her principles and values. But rather than teaching me how to behave, it taught me how to behave AROUND HER.

Many moons ago I worked at BYU’s Early Childhood Education. One of the professors told me if you spank your child for getting into poison, he doesn’t learn that poison is dangerous – he learns that mom is dangerous.

Likewise, if you freak out because your kid makes a choice you don’t like, your kid doesn’t think their CHOICE was stupid, they think TELLING YOU was stupid.

Sometimes we think the more drastically we react, the more it will impress on our kids how serious we are about the issue.

If only.

Was I psyched the first time Jen told me she kissed a boy? HECK NO! But was I going to let HER know that?

Moms, if you think flipping out will stop your daughter from kissing, you’re just delusional. Girls will kiss boys. And they’ll want to tell their mom about it, IF their mom can keep her eyeballs in their sockets.

And let’s not forget, poker isn’t just about masking your expressions, it’s also about masterful bluffing.

Both of my kids, at some point, told me they wanted to get either a piercing or a tattoo. All sorts of hysterical mom thoughts went through my head BOTH TIMES.

Jen wanted a pierced belly button. I knew her ideas came and went with the seasons. I knew that one day, probably when she was cleaning pus out of the piercing, she’d regret it.

Zach wanted a tattoo. I had to worry about Zach choosing a tat based on where his finger landed in the design book while his eyes were closed. He’d do something stupid like that on a bet, like the disgusting beard he grew during his senior year.

But I didn’t discourage either one of them from going through with it. I just asked them both to take some time to think about it.

I don’t remember how long I asked Jen to think about it, but before that period of time had lapsed, she changed her mind and decided it was a stupid idea.

I told Zach, since tattoos are forever, I wanted him to come up with his design, draw it out in its actual size, and carry it around with him for a year. If a year later he still really liked that design, then he could get the tattoo.

I’m not sure he’s ever entirely given up the idea of a tattoo, but I know he’s never had a design he liked for a full year. And thankfully, because of that, he sees the value of holding off for a year.

Either or both of them could have called my bluff.

But if they’d actually deliberated like I asked them to and still wanted to go through with it, I could hardly consider it a rash decision.

AND (maybe most important) we would have at least had the opportunity for a discussion BEFORE they did it. What if my kids never told me those things because they thought I’d go bananas and start lecturing them?

I’ll tell you – Jen would have a scar on her belly button, and Zach would have a tattoo of Hannah Montana or something equally lame.

Come to think of it, Zach may have ended up with a scarred belly button, too. I can’t rule anything out with him.

And there’s no telling how many other stupid things they might have done that I wouldn’t have known about until 30 years later when one of them started writing a blog. (Hi mom!)

Or maybe not.

Maybe they would have toed the line like little angels – right up until they moved out and no longer had to account to me. Then all hell would have broken loose as they exercised their newfound freedom.

I can’t tell you how much of that I saw my freshman year in college. It was like some of those kids had never seen daylight before. (And I will thank my friends from that era to not comment.)

I’m not saying my kids didn’t do stupid things. Okay, one of them didn’t. But they always knew I was on their team, and wouldn’t go ballistic on them if they ever messed up. Or had a crazy idea. Or acted like a TEENAGER.

Like Lady GaGa or not, a few lines of at least one of her songs is worth getting stuck in your head.

Remember it the next time your kid is talking about drag racing his friends on a dirt road, or loudly pointing out the dwarf at the library – p-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face.

PoP #1: A Little Practical Magic

PoP #2: Fall In Love With a Vampire

PoP #3: Don’t Be a Unitard

PoP #4: Go GaGa For Your Kids

PoP #5: It Takes a Starfleet to Raise a Child

PoP #6: Don’t Be a Sewage Plant