Please Pass the Memories...Part One

If you read this blog with any regularity you know I’m big on storytelling. Storytelling is how I express my thoughts and feelings. It’s how I teach and how I make a point. Storytelling is just part of what makes me, me. But it is also a trait I inherited, so to speak, from my Granny.

Granny told stories all the time—stories about her childhood, stories about being a young wife and mom, stories about her and her friends, and even stories her parents told her. We all loved Granny’s stories. We never got tired of hearing them. If you were to ask my kids, they would tell you what their favorite story is, and then they would start telling it—just like Granny did. 

Our family’s fondness for storytelling doesn’t seem to be going away any time soon, either. One of Mack and Macy’s favorite ways to pass the time in the car or as we wind down for the evening is to listen to me tell stories about the things their dad and aunts did growing up. Stories about pets, life on the farm, school…you name it— they want to hear about it. 

“That’s nice,” you say. “Great story,” you say (no pun intended). “But what’s the point?” 

I’m glad you asked, and I am equally happy to tell you. 

The point is that by telling stories you are providing your children, grandchildren, and even your great-grandchildren with an oral history of who their people were. You are giving them a piece of the past to weave into their present and their future. 

So now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to set aside some time to gather the generations of your family together and have a good old-fashioned story-telling session. Pass on the memories that make your family your family. But then you need to be ready, because it won’t be long before you hear, “Tell me about the time that….”

Love,

Momma D

                        Copyright 2017 Darla Noble. No part of this can be used or copied without permission from the author. 

                                                                                                                             

Perfectly Imperfect, Absolutely Wonderful, and Mine

A week ago today our house was full of people, noise, toys, food, and lots and lots of love. Why? Because a week ago today, all sixteen of us came together to give Emma, Dwight, Essie, and JoJo a proper ‘send-off ‘ as they head off to California, where they’ll be living for the next three years.

Aside from having my entire brood all gathered in one place, the thing I wanted most out of the day was a group picture. But if you know anything at all about large group pictures in which nearly half of the subjects are under the age of ten, then you know there’s a better chance for peace in the Middle-East than there is at getting everyone perfectly positioned, smiling and looking in the same direction at the same time. But guess what?

We did it…almost. 

The sun caused a few of us to squint a little bit. The baby had her fingers in her mouth. The wind blew a few hairs out of place. In several of them, at least one of the kids looked away to make sure the person standing next to them was looking at the camera. And in others, some of the adults missed their ‘que’ because they were making sure the kids were ‘set’.

In other words, the pictures aren’t perfect. But that’s okay because we aren’t perfect. And if the pictures were perfect, they wouldn’t be showing the real us. 

It’s true. Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves. Sometimes we even hurt each other’s feelings. But in spite of those ‘sometimes’, we are always loyal, always ready to defend and care for one another, and at the end of the day we love the fact that we are family and love always wins out over everything else.

So when I look at those perfectly imperfect pictures, I see my heart and my life’s work looking back at me. And you know what? I couldn’t be happier because I’ll take my perfectly wonderful imperfect family over perfect pictures any day. 

I hope you feel the same about your family.

Love,

Momma D

                                  Copyright 2017 Darla Noble. No part of this can be used without permission from the author. 

                                                                                                                        

                       

Um...No, Thank-you (said oh, so sweetly)

Four year-old Essie is quite a character; an adorable, sometimes precocious, independent, and utterly amazing character. And for the most part she has a pretty firm grasp on the whole manners ‘thing especially “No, thank-you”. For example...

Me: Essie, eat your chicken.

Essie: Um…no, thank you.

Emma (Essie’s mom): Essie, let’s put on play clothes so you don’t get your dress dirty.

Essie: Um…no, thank-you.

Dwight (Essie’s dad): Essie, it’s time to go inside to take your bath. 

Essie: Um…no, thank-you.

(All said in her sweet little voice)

I don’t want you to think Essie’s ‘go to’ response is always “Um…no, thank-you” because it’s not. She’s generally very cooperative (and obviously polite). But what I do want you learn from Essie’s use of “No, thank-you” is the importance of teaching your children to be tactful and diplomatic.

As parents we sometimes get so wrapped up in teaching our children to be strong and independent and to make sure no one takes advantage of them, that we forget to teach them to be…well, to just be nice.

If you don’t believe me, listen to the news and look around. You don’t see much nice happening, do you? And you certainly don’t hear many people saying, “Um… no, thank-you.”

But isn’t that sad? Because if more people were as diplomatic and tactful as Essie is, we would soon find that most days would either be ‘slow news days’ or the news would be something we would actually be glad to hear. 

So instead of making sure your children know what it means to ‘look out for number one’ and know how to demand fairness and respect, why not teach them how to deserve fairness and respect by just being nice?

Love,
Momma D

                         Copyright 2017 Darla Noble. No part of this can be copied or used without permission from the author.