Skip to main content

For the Love of Stories

Anyone who knows me well, knows I love stories.  Especially stories for kids.  Even more particularly I love making up stories for my own kids.  It gives me a way to connect to them a way to reach their heart a way to tell them I love them.  No matter what happens during the day if I end the day with a story and a back rub then at least the last thing I've done with my children was positive.

I have stories that want telling.  So I've decided to tell them and share them with you.  I am not a professional storyteller.  I can't spell nor do I claim to be a writer.  Thankfully my kids don't care. They just want to be told a story.  My hope is that you will pass these stories from my heart on to your children.  And that eventually they will become your stories.  I will here and there post a story for you to read or practice telling to your kids.  Sometimes it will be a story game, a story challenge, or a book review. 

Perhaps you have stories to tell, too, but feel you lack ability.  I hope to inspire you.  Trust me.  Children are a very forgiving audience. 

Warmly,
Kristen
Labels:

Comments

Smith Family said…
Hooray! Love your new blog.
November 19, 2011 at 2:07 PM
Carrie said…
Me, too! I'm here...we will follow along with you.
November 19, 2011 at 3:41 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Go. Heal Thyself, Girl!

Go.   Heal Thyself, Girl! A story of personal healing Ever since I gave birth to Thing 1, I’ve struggled with slouching.   I figured it was a combination of things:   engorged breasts that would have won money in a wet t-shirt contest, muscle fatigue from holding a well-fed baby, and stomach muscles that had been stretched beyond reason.   Two more babies and nine more years under my belt, and I’m still struggling with slouching.   In fact, it’s been getting worse.   For at least the last year and a half, I’ve been consciously trying to fix the problem.   I check in with myself regularly throughout the day: “Am I slouching?   Yes!   Stop that!” I’ve been working on my core, trying to bolster those muscles and give my shoulders a break.   All to no avail.   What is my problem?   I was a dancer for heaven's sake.   Dancers don’t slouch!   They have lovely posture (and small breasts, I might add). ...
4 comments
Read more

Book Review: Good Pictures, Bad Pictures

Good Pictures, Bad Pictures Porn-Proofing Today's Kids   Two years ago when my then six and nine year old boys were inadvertently exposed to pornography by a neighbor boy I dove into educating myself on this topic.   Despite my best efforts to protect them from this exact type of thing, I had failed.   My heart was broken, yet I was determined to do what I needed to in order to help them through this.   According to Internetsaftey101.com seven out of ten youth have accidentally come across pornography online and American children begin consuming hardcore pornography at an average age of 11.   On top of that four out of five 16 year olds view pornography on a regular basis.   Fight the New Drug claims they often get emails from six year olds sharing about their addictions to porn. These are frightening statistics.   Part of me wants to discount them as being overly aggressive for shock value, but then I realize even if these stats are cut...
1 comment
Read more

Puff the Magic Dragon Lives On

10 Years Later Note: Rereading this after ten years brings back such sweet memories. I’m so glad I now have a class full of littles who don’t mind my singing. I dusted off this version of Puff the Magic Dragon that I created and shared it with them—it was a big hit. Now I just need to learn to play the ukulele, because that would really seal the deal! Thing 3 is now two. He has a love-hate relationship with dragons. He gets scared when he sees them, but still asks me to sing songs about them. His favorite right now is, of course, “Puff the Magic Dragon.” “Sing dragon, Mommy. Back, back,” he says, asking me to sing the Puff song while rubbing his back. I LOVE this. I could do it forever—if my back didn’t get tired, if my other boys didn’t need the same kind of attention, and if the dishes weren’t also calling to me. Actually… forget the dishes. We don’t really need them anyway. When Thing 1 was about four years old, I sang “Puff” to him and he cried. I guess I sang it a little too d...
2 comments
Read more