...When a Story Calms the Storm

One day, there was a superhero who lost his powers.  He flew all the way to Noah's house to ask for help.  Rat-a-tat-tat.  He knocked on the window, but there was no answer.  Knock!  Knock!  He pounded on the door, but there was no answer.  Ding-dong.  Ding-dong.  He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer.  Nobody in the house could hear the superhero because Noah was throwing a fit.  Noah was so loud, he hurt everybody's ears, and the poor superhero couldn't get his powers back.

Moral of the story?  Don't throw temper tantrums, or you won't be able to help superheroes. 

Trip to the zoo!  After several trips to the zoo, we have definitely concluded that our kids do not like animals.  Because ants and plants and garbage are way cooler. (Oct. 2014)

Not too long ago, I read some where (perhaps in Bringing Up Bebe), that an effective tactic to distract young children when they are "hurt," is to tell them a story about a time you got hurt.  You might be surprised when their tears and screams stop at the sound of, "When Mommy was a little girl..." Though I often forget to use this method in the shrill screeches of my three-year-old daughter, I have learned to use a story-telling method to avert chaotic situations.

Noah loves superheroes, so a story like the one above silences his voice and opens his ears.  The kids eagerly ask me to tell it again... and again.  During Rounds 2 and 3, they fill in the blanks, and by Round 4, they become the story-tellers.

Right now, the exterior of our mini van looks like raw evidence of a dust storm, and the inside resembles a children's nursery.  (I hope at least some of you can relate, so I don't appear to be an entirely deficient mother).  Miriam usually sits in the back, playing with a toy.  Then she drops the toy.  Then she screams... and screams for me to pick it up.  I used to reason with her; I used to scream back at her; I used to ignore her.  Now, I retort with this tale:

The boys need their rest!

If I had very, very long arms, I would catch a helicopter as it flew by.  If I had very, very long arms, I would reach up to the moon and collect all the star dust.  If I had very, very long arms, I would reach to the bottom of the ocean and find treasure.

"Noah, what would you do if you had very, very long arms?"
"Nothing!  I don't have them."
"Miriam, what would you do if you had very, very long arms?"
"I would pick up my toy!"

Moral?  Don't drop your toys while Mommy is driving.

Earlier this week, my saint-of-a-mother was babysitting the kids while I was at the doctor.  I came back to the house as everyone except Miriam was eating lunch.  Miriam was complaining about her spoon.  So my mom told her the funny and captivating story of "Naughty Miriam."  I had to smile.  Whether I subconsciously learned the tactic from my mom (who certainly has achieved "expert status" in raising eight kids) or from the author of Bringing Up Bebe, or from my own trial and error in raising my kids, all I can say is, it works.  When I create the state of mind to tell a tale, it keeps my heart rate down and changes my mood.

Miri and Gus reading

We all have a craving for stories.  You might fulfill yours through the tales of Charles Dickens, George Lucas, or the Kardashians.  Even our Master Teacher taught through stories; so I guess I'll take my lead from Him.