The Real Santa Knows What He's Doing

For several years I had the esteemed honor of taking Mackenzie and Macy to see Santa…the real Santa. Seriously—this guy is the real deal right down to the long white beard and a kind, gentle smile and personality.

The first year Mackenzie was really able to comprehend the whole concept of Santa, though, she said something while we were waiting in line, that reminded me just how important it is we don't cause Santa to give our little ones a false sense of insecurity.
What did she say that led me to think this? Mackenzie said, “Nanna, he’s going to ask Macy and I if we’ve been good, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I said, “he is. And when he does, you can both tell him you are very good girls because you are two of the best girls in the whole entire world.”

She listened to what I said, smiled and her sweet, sweet smile with a look of relief in her eyes, hugged my leg and turned her attention back to the displays and activities meant to keep the kids occupied while they waited to meet Santa.

Mackenzie’s question wasn’t asked with a great deal of anxiety or dread, but it bothers me that we (we, meaning society in general) have placed the thought in our children’s minds that Santa’s goodness and generosity is performance based. We’ve demoted Santa from the giver of love and good cheer to one who rewards only the ‘good’.

How sad is that! What’s more, if a little child is worried about what a stranger in a red suit and beard thinks of them, what do you think goes through their heads and hearts when you make them feel like they’ve disappointed you and let you down? What impression are you leaving in their tender little hearts and impressionable little minds when you give the impression that your love and respect have to be earned?

Our children don’t ask to be born. We make that decision for them. So the very least we can do is to let them know they don’t have to earn our love any more than they should have to be good in order to have a present or two under the tree on Christmas morning.

Our wait to see Santa was relatively short and both girls climbed up in his lap ready to tell him what they wanted. And you know what? Santa didn’t ask if they’d been good. Instead, he smiled at the girls and said, “I can see you are both very sweet (not good) little girls, so tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

See, I told you he was the real deal.

Merry Christmas,
Momma D

                                                                    

Freckles and Stars

Last week I was browsing through a popular shopping website checking to see if there were any bargains I couldn’t live without. There weren’t, but I did see something that is forever imprinted in my mind and on my heart—a little girl’s necklace that said,

A little girl without freckles is like a night without stars.

It took all of about a half a heartbeat for images of three year-old Macy to start flashing through my mind. Not only does she have freckles on her little nose and cheeks, but her smile lights up a room (and your heart) at least as much as a sky full of stars lights up the night.

And then I thought of my children, children in-law and Mackenzie, Reuben, Laney and Essie. Each of them has their own unique way(s) of lighting up my heart. None of them is more special than the other or makes my heart any warmer, but each is different and works its ‘magic’ on this mom’s heart in a special way.

As parents we sometimes work so diligently to keep things fair and even between our children that we see them as one instead of the unique and precious individuals they are. We are so careful to ‘prove’ that we don’t have a favorite that we cheat our children out of knowing that each one is the favorite in their own special way.

So go ahead—take the time to let each one of your children know why they are the stars that light up your heart and sky. Let each of them know what your favorite thing(s) about them are. Go ahead…I dare you to make each of your children feel special and let them know they have their own special place in your heart that no one or nothing on earth can replace.

Love,

Momma D

                                                  

Caution: Christmas Carolers Not Welcome

Now that the Christmas season is here, I naturally think back on special memories of things I’ve done with my family and those kids I call mine from the many years spent as a youth director at church. There are literally enough memories to fill a book (or two), but one that is particularly special because it still makes me laugh is one that involves caroling and a nursing home…

It was Saturday morning and the other youth director and I were taking a fairly good-sized group of elementary and middle-school kids caroling at the nursing homes in our community. The first stop we made was to the home where a couple of our elderly church members were living, so we planned to make their rooms our first stop. But when we walked into the building we found the lobby full of residents so we decided to brighten their morning with our cheery voices. And so we sang. We sang Up on the Housetop, Joy to the World, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, Silent Night and of course, we finished with a hearty rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas.
As soon as we finished the last note of our final song, one of women in the room who was sitting in front of the television, turned to the woman sitting next to her and said (in a loud voice), “I’m glad those *$*# kids stopped singing. I couldn’t hear the television.”

I am laughing as I write because I can still see the looks of shock on their faces. This was immediately followed by one-syllable comments of “Wha?”, “Huh?” “Uhhhh” which was then followed by pursed lips trying to hold in giggles. It didn’t work. But that was probably because I was laughing, too.

We quickly regained our composure and left the room to sing for those we felt sure would be more appreciative. As we walked, down the hallway, the kids started talking about what had happened…

“Did she really mean that?”

“No, I don’t think so. Old people are just like that sometimes.”

“Why didn’t she like our singing?”

“Who knows? Maybe she has bad memories of Christmas or maybe she’s sad because no one comes to see her.”

“Or maybe she’s just a grouch.”

“Maybe...probably.”

“You think?”

“Oh, well, we didn’t mean to make her mad. Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”

“That’s right. We meant well.”

They meant well. Their intentions were as pure as pure could be—to bring joy to elderly people at Christmas time—and no matter how it was perceived by some (or one), that really was what mattered. After making sure they understood they had done nothing wrong and that one person’s response should not keep them from trying to make people smile, we continued caroling and had a great time doing so.

But as I think about that day now, I also think about how many times as parents we take our children’s actions at face value rather than looking to the heart of the matter and their intentions.

When they cook breakfast and set the toaster on fire do we only see burned toast or do we see an act of service out of love?

When we have to corral a run-away llama do we see a hassle or do we see a child who was trying to do extra chores because she wanted to help out more? (My kids know what I’m talking about.)

When the orange towels fade onto white t-shirts, do we see a child that is trying to do more than they are capable of or do we see a child trying to help out while you are sick in bed with the flu?

Are you getting the message here?

Our children are not perfect. Sometimes they make messes and mistakes in the process of doing something with the purest and best of intentions to help…serve…love.

The question is this: Do we see past the mess and into their heart or do we leave the impression that we are just waiting for our children to ‘stop singing so we can hear the television’?

Love,

Momma D

 

                                                                  

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving from Momma D and the rest of the Noble family. I hope you are taking this time to make some sweet and lasting memories with the ones you call your own. I know I am.


Love,
Momma D

                                                             

Is Your Family An Organism Or an Organization

When Elizabeth was a teenager, one of the jobs she had was that of a checker at a local grocery store. Naturally she met all kinds of people as they came through her line. Some were nice, some were not so nice.

Shortly before Thanksgiving one year, she had the displeasure of having to deal with one of the not-so-nice customers; a grouchy middle-aged man who not-so-gently dropped a frozen turkey onto Elizabeth’s hand; breaking her finger.

By the time she got home her finger was swollen and every shade of blue and purple you can imagine and was causing her a great deal of pain.

Naturally John and I were concerned and upset that someone had purposefully hurt Elizabeth, but it was big brother Zach who was ready to come to his sister’s defense. When Elizabeth revealed the man was a regular customer at the store (and always grouchy), Zach suggested that he and John have a little talk with him about how to treat people—especially Elizabeth. John quickly closed that idea down for obvious reasons, even though it was sweet to see his concern for his sister.

Aw, isn’t that sweet! Isn’t it nice to see a family being so loving and protective of each other?

I have a confession to make. My family is NOT perfect. We don’t always treat each other with that kind of love and concern. Sometimes we argue, hurt each other’s feelings, say or do things we would never say or do to our friends and take each other for granted. But when all is said and done we are still family.

We are a family who loves one another and who is there for one another in good times and bad. We laugh at and with each other, we cry together, play together, work together, pray together, eat together, raise children together and know that nothing can ever change the fact that we are forever bound together by blood and love…whether we like it or not. J

So while we are far from perfect, we are what could easily be described as an organism; a bunch of ‘cell’s’ interdependent on one another. Without any one of us we would not be complete. For this I am thankful—especially since so many families today seem more like organizations—groups of people working separately toward the same goal of health, wealth and happiness.

I’d rather be an intricate part of an organism instead of a member of an organization any day. How about you?

Love,

Momma D
                                                              

Way to Finish!!!

If you spend any time at all around children, you know they can be incredibly sweet and incredibly mean in the time it takes for the heart to beat another beat. They don’t always mean to be mean. Sometimes it just happens. You know what I’m talking about—one toddler takes another toddler’s toy and within seconds you have an all-out toy room brawl on your hands. Or when someone makes fun of your second-grader’s haircut they strike back out of the need to mask their hurt and humiliation.

There comes a time, however, when these outbursts of meanness are no longer reflexes or ‘innocent’ acts of self-preservation. There comes a time when children mistreat others because they want to…because it gives them a sense of power…because they think it is okay to make fun of someone else…because they can. But parents, hear me loud and clear when I say it is NEVER EVER okay for your child to make fun of someone and it is your job as a parent to teach and reinforce this essential life-lesson.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I’m far from being the perfect parent, but this is one of the things I know I got right. All four of my children demonstrated this on numerous occasions, but one of the most vivid recollections of this comes from my son, Zach.

Zach was a runner—both track and cross country. No, Zach was a really good runner. He broke school records and was awarded numerous gold, silver and bronze medals to ‘prove’ his skill. Had they awarded medals for good sportsmanship and teamwork, too, Zach would have earned gold in those ‘events’, too. You see, there was a boy on Zach’s track and cross country teams who was looked at as strange…odd…nerdy…or whatever similar word you would like to insert there. He was the kid no one sat with at lunch, the one who got his books knocked out of his hands and all those ridiculous, mean-spirited high school shows of immaturity. On top of that, this boy consistently finished last. Dead last. But each and every time this boy came across the finish line, he did so with Zach cheering him on; clapping, encouraging and saying, “Way to finish, “Forrest””. 

Zach and I never really talked about why he did it, but I knew. He did it because he knew it was the right thing to do. He knew this young man deserved to feel valued and respected for finishing. Yes, he may have always finished last, but he always finished and Zach knew what it took to do so.

Teaching your children to see life through the eyes of others—especially those they see as fodder for ridicule, humiliation, pranks and bullying—is a gift to everyone and a valuable lesson in compassion, honor and integrity.

I’m sure Zach wasn’t always a gold medalist in the way he treated others. In fact, I’m sure his sisters would vouch for thatJ. Hey, no one is perfect. But I am sure he knows it is never okay to be a bully and that everyone deserves to be treated fairly and with kindness.

With all the pressure put on kids today to be the best…at the top of the heap…number one…to look ‘just so’ and all the other junk society throws at them, it can be difficult for them to understand that it is NOT okay to mistreat others and that winning at all costs is NOT okay. As a parent, you MUST teach and model behavior that says just the opposite—that treating others the way you want to be treated is what life is really all about.

Love,

Momma D

                                                                 

 

Picking Up Walnuts...Part Two

If you remember from last week’s post, picking up walnuts each fall was NOT one of my kids’ favorite chores. And that’s putting it mildly. Except for this one time…

One of Elizabeth's MANY egg customers was an old man who lived a couple of miles down the road. He lived well below the poverty level and had serious heart problems.

I am sad to say that I don’t remember his name—I don’t even know for sure that I ever knew his name. What I do know, however, is that every other week he would knock on our door and politely ask to purchase a dozen eggs; handing me a crumpled dollar and the empty egg carton from his previous visit.

One fall day, however, after asking for his eggs, he asked if I thought we could spare a few walnuts. He quickly went on to say he’d be happy to pick them up himself, but that he’d sure like a few.

Without hesitation I told him he could have all the walnuts he wanted. I told them he could also have the sack full I’d picked up earlier in the day that was leaning against the shed and that if he needed something to put them in I would get him some feed sacks as soon as I checked on the baby, who was sleeping. He thanked me, but said he’d brought a few buckets just in case I said yes. So after putting his eggs in his car he went over to the walnut tree nearest the road and started picking them up and putting them into his bucket a few at a time.

A few minutes later the school bus dropped Elizabeth and Olivia off in front of the house and they came running in asking what ‘the egg guy’ was doing out by the walnut tree. When I told them I’d said he could take what he wanted, they both made comments about him being too old and too sick to be doing that and went to put their things away.

A couple of minutes later I looked out the window to find both the girls silently helping ‘the egg guy’ pick up walnuts. With their high-level energy they could pick up several to his one and in no time his buckets were full.

The girls didn’t have to help. They hated picking up walnuts (and still do). But it makes this mom’s heart happy to know that even ‘way back then’ helping someone in need took priority over their own dislikes and displeasures.

My children didn’t learn to put their feelings aside for the sake of others at school or from a cartoon on television or a book on their shelf. They learned to have a servant’s heart from seeing others (their dad and I, Granny, and the adults at church who took the time to love them and pay attention to them).

I don’t say this to be prideful. I say this because the truth of the matter is that children really do learn what they live. They take their cues from you. So ask yourself this question: what are you teaching your children?

Thanks, kids, for being such eager and good students!

Love,
Momma D

                                                                              

What's A Walnut Worth

Being from Mid-Missouri, there are two things you know you can count on in the month of October-beautiful fall leaves and black walnuts dropping from their trees like it's nobody's business. And we were blessed (sarcasm implied) with an abundance of walnut trees in and around our yard.

We moved onto the farm in mid-October, but with everything else to do that year, the walnuts weren't high on our list of priorities. The next year, however, we decided helping to pick up walnuts would be a great way for the kids to learn a lesson in a) sticking with a job until it's done b) working together as a family and c) money earned is better than money given.

Seven year-old Zach and four year-old Elizabeth were eager and excited when John and I told them what we would be doing and that once the walnuts were gathered, we would sell them to the hullers; splitting the money earned between the two of them. Two year-old Olivia helped too (sort of), but we all know what the help of a two year-old is like and she had no concept of money, so...

If you've ever picked up walnuts, I don't have to tell you why the kids quickly tired of the job. It's messy work, a bit dangerous (have you ever been hit on the head by walnuts dropping to the ground?)and even kids get tired of repeatedly bending and standing. Not to mention the fact that just when you have them all gathered, a big gust of wind (or even a little one) comes along and knocks a bunch more to the ground; meaning you have to start all over again!

With a lot of coaxing and prodding, bending over, crawling on our knees and stained fingers (even through gloves), the ground and trees were finally walnut-free and the bed of our full-sized pickup was filled to over-flowing with feed sacks and buckets of walnuts. Zach was just sure he and his sister were going to be rich and started talking about what he might want to do with some of the money he earned.

Much to Zach and Elizabeth's grave disappointment, though, the entire truckload of walnuts brought a measly $13 after they were hulled. Hardly the windfall they were expecting, to say the least. Even John and I were somewhat surprised at how little they received for all their hard work and dedication.
So after a little family meeting, it was decided the $13 would be just enough to fund a family pizza night; something the kids readily agreed to.

The original lessons we hoped to teach our children in the gathering of all those walnuts were taught, but they were somewhat overshadowed by another equally important lesson--the lesson that says life isn't always fair and we don't always get what we deserve, but in the end, the best reward is knowing you did you best no matter what.

For the next twenty years, every fall found us picking up walnuts. It had to be done. But never again did we take them to the hullers. No, we decided to save some gas and do our part for our forest friends and dump them into the woods for the squirrels and other critters to enjoy.

And just in case you are wondering, the kids loved everything about growing up on a farm, but walnuts. They never did learn to love picking up walnuts-except for that one time, but more on that next week....


Love,
Momma D

                                                        

Moms Are People Too

Warning: This week’s post gives moms permission to need to be taken care of, too.

When Granny’s health started to fail she repeatedly said she was ready for God to take her home. But come each November, she would tell me she was praying God would wait ‘til spring to take her so I wouldn’t catch cold at the cemetery. And even in her last days—when she did not have a firm grasp on reality— she was watching out for me; telling me to be careful doing this or that and to telling me how proud she was of me for being me.

There hasn’t been a day go by in the past two years that I have not missed Granny. I miss her encouragement, her smile, her unconditional love, her presence and her selflessness. I miss the ways she was always looking out for me; making sure I knew she understood I still needed taking care of.

I will never forget how blessed I was to have that kind of support in my life, but this week I was especially reminded of how important it is for moms to have the ‘luxury’ of knowing it is okay to take care of themselves and to know other moms are on their side.

I was reminded of this when a friend of mine, who is a young stay at home mom of two precious children, was given a very special gift from her husband; a dream vacation with her best girlfriend. Yes, a few days away from all the responsibilities she dearly loves, but that don’t have to be her sole source of oxygen.

Little did they know, however, that this gift would illicit comments of a negative and accusatory nature. These comments suggested this sweet wife and momma was neglecting her family, that she was being selfish and that she didn’t have the right to take such a trip.

Now I’m not sure why anyone felt the need to do this, but what I do know is that this young family is on the right track. They understand that a momma needs to be looked after, too. They understand a momma (especially a stay at home momma) needs a break now and then to remind herself that a significant part of her value as a mom comes from the fact that she has knowledge, passion and talent in other areas besides those that come with being a mom.

So here are my challenges to each of you this week…

1.      Tell the young moms in your life how much you respect and admire them. Compliment them on their accomplishments as a wife and mom AND on their God-given talents that make them the wonderful, amazing women they are.

2.      Moms, don’t be afraid to take a little time for yourself now and then to recharge your heart and mind and to remind yourself that while being a parent is THE most important job you will ever do, it isn’t the only thing you are capable of.

So thanks, Granny, for never letting me forget and I hope and pray I will do the same for all the young moms in my life.

Love,

Momma D

                                                       

One Fish, Two Fish says I'm Just so Mad that Olivia is in London to Visit the Queen while the Berenstein Bears have a House in Bear Country

For Zach it was One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish and his Children’s Bible (particularly Daniel and the Lion’s Den and Balaam’s Donkey).

Elizabeth’s favorites were Richard Scarry’s Best Word Book Ever and Mercer Mayer’s Little Critter books.

Olivia never tired of A House is a House for Me and Mother Goose Rhymes—especially “Pussycat, Pussycat…” because I always exchanged the word ‘pussycat’ for Olivia.

Reading Hattie and the Fox was a multiple-times-a-day event for Emma, along with any and all of the Berenstein Bears books.

The repetition of reading the same books over and over and over and over and (take a deep breath) over again was not always my favorite thing to do, but I did it because it made them happy and I wanted my kids to be happy. But more than that, the repetition of hearing their favorite stories multiple times a day gave them a sense of security and belonging.

That’s what repetition does, you know. It gives children a sense of belonging and assurance that things are just as they should be. And that is why, as a parent, you need to make sure you consistently and repeatedly:

Tell your children you love them-- every single day.

Make sure your actions are affirmations of what you say –kids are smart. They know the difference between empty words and words giving voice to acts of love.

Keep the promises you make – if you can’t keep them don’t make them.

Pick them up on time –be where you say you will be when you say you will be there. Children are frightened and humiliated when you are late or miss something altogether.

Practice what you preach –Again, kids are better at spotting a phony than they are at addition or subtraction. They need to see you consistently and repeatedly being the person you tell them to be.

I’ve not been a perfect parent, but I’ve been consistent and repetitive in loving, protecting, nurturing, teaching and caring for my children. I hope and pray you will do the same.

Love,

Momma D

PS I can still quote most of these books by heart and I wouldn’t have it any other way.