Family Stories

Healthy Families are Becoming the Stuff of Fairy Tales

As you can tell from this blog, my family is really important to me.

And not only is my family important to me, but every single family is important to me. I think that the family is something I think about so much because I can see how my family has really shaped and formed who I am and what I believe.

When I was in the airport this weekend flying back to school after being with my family for Thanksgiving break, I was sitting and reading my book, and I could not help overhearing the phone conversation the young women next to me was having with what sounded like her best friend.

I tried my best to focus on what I was reading, but my attention kept going back to what she was telling her friend.

What I gathered from casually listening in, (I know, call me a creeper), is that she was flying back from seeing the man who she had just found out was her father. She told her friend that she had known this man before, and this mans father, but she had know idea that he was her dad and that his dad was her grandpa.

As she was talking on the phone she was externally processing with her friend how so many things in her life now made sense to her.

She was saying how the man who was her grandpa, (who has since passed away), would always hug her super tightly, and now she knows why.

She said that she had always felt like she did not really look like anyone in her family; but after discovering who her dad is she feels like she knows where she gets her physical characteristics.

She said that she has always had a bigger temper then the rest of her family that she did not understand, but after talking with her dad and stepmom she realized that she and her dad not only have the same way of expressing anger, but they also have many of the same mannerisms and personality traits.

She was expressing how her life makes more sense to her now.

As I was listening to her speak and have had more time to think about the conversation I overheard, I have become overwhelmed by how thankful I am for my family, and that I have always known who I belonged to and where I came from.

I have never had to wonder who I looked like or why I acted the way that I did. I have always had a solid foundation in my family to turn back to whenever I had questions about who I was or who I came from.

And I realized that sadly, the story that the woman in the airport shared is not an uncommon one. What is becoming more uncommon are stories like mine.

Stories of families who love and support each other unconditionally, even in the midst of arguments and suffering.  Families where the parents have been happily married for 27 years and where the children feel like they can talk to their parents about anything going on in there life. Families where each person is cherished and accepted for who they are and not what they do. A family who is rooted in faith.

So I think that's why I am so proud of my family and why I want to share our story.

Families like mine are becoming the stuff of fairy tales and I want the whole world to know that it does not have to be that way.

Loving families can be a reality if we start living and viewing families as they were intended from the beginning.

A Day in the Life

A peak into the normal everyday workings of the Black Family residence.

I'm home for Thanksgiving break right now, and every time I get home I must adjust once again to how things work at the Black Family home. What the daily routine is, who is responsible for what, and where my place in the family is.

You see when I was the oldest child at home, I was the top of the pecking order. Maddie got to call the shots, and I was the one who liked to be in charge and in control of what happened every day. Call me mini mom. And that job slowing passed from me, to Sophie, to Helen; the three oldest girls. But now that Sophie, Helen and I are all out of the house, and Jonathan, my 15 year old brother is the "top dog", things look a little differently then they ever did before. And we all are having to adjust to a new day in the life. 

It's a Monday morning, at 8:00am, a school day, and Jane and Sam and Jon and Ava are all getting ready for school, or forgetting to get ready for school. 

One of us older girls home from college, wakes up and come to the kitchen and see that the kids forgot to eat breakfast and are still in their jammies and that they have 15 min to departure. Not knowing how the new morning routine works now, one of us girls starts barking orders at the kids. Mom then hears the commotion and comes down, all ready to go, calms the waters and then gets the kids out the door right in the nick of time. 

Then the three of us older girls take our time getting ready for the day, drinking tea and coffee, eating breakfast and doing our hair. We then kinda don't know what to do with ourselves because we are not in school and are not home long enough to work.

Mom then sees our lack of things to do and puts us to work deep cleaning the house. We grumble a little but are mostly happy to help out. 

We clean and then play 20 questions with the youngest, Josie, and soon it's time for lunch. We eat lunch, and maybe walk the dogs and chat among ourselves. Then before we know it it is time for the kids to be picked up from school. I will usually be the one to drive the big black suburban to pick them up and they are so excited to see me, their cool older sister. I then get introduced to all of their teachers and friends, we load up into the car and make the short drive home. 

We get home, and the kids plop in front of the TV and take a little bit of time to unwind. Helen and mom will work on dinner, and then call everyone when it is ready. 

We all gather around the island in our kitchen and dig in. We talk about our day, and laugh at funny stories and clean up spills. It is not a dinner at the Black 's house without someone spilling something. 

Then about half way through the meal, dad gets home, and once we hear the door open, everyone screams "dads home!" and run over to give him a big hug. Dad then comes in and eats the rest of the meal with us.

Everyone disperses, to get the little ones all cleaned up and ready for bed, and it is then my self proclaimed job to clean up the kitchen. I turn on some music, wash the dishes and sweep the floor. Usually a dance party with whoever is around soon starts. 

Mom and dad read to the little ones, us older kids are around reading, talking, doing homework and watching TV. 

Dad comes down all sleepy from putting the kids to bed, and mom soon follows. Mom checks her email, dad makes tea and popcorn, and then we all settle in to watch a movie before going to bed. 

I love being home because everything is as it should be, even though our family has changed in some ways as the years have done by and we have grown up. But regardless of all the changes there is always a constant knowledge that we are all loved and cherished for who we are. So, that's a normal day in the life, and I would not change it for the world. 

Some Loving Hoax's

A FEW SHORT STORIES

My parents are very resourceful people, and the following two stories prove their sheer cleverness.

Story 1: 

Every year the Larson family comes over to our house on December 31^st to bring in the new year with a party, games and lots of food. We have been doing this since I was a little girl, and to this day, even though we are spread all over the place, we all come together to celebrate the past year and the start of a new year.

When I was little, I felt so cool and grown up because New Year’s Eve was the only night of the year that I got to stay up until midnight, which is something that I greatly looked forward to. Little did I know that when I thought I was staying up until midnight, my parents and the Larson family parents rigged a great system so us kids were only staying up about 30min past our bedtime.

Needless to say, when I found out about this system, only a few years ago I might add, I was quite upset. Once I got over my feelings of betrayal I thought it was one of the funniest things I had ever heard.

You see, when New Year’s Eve rolled around, at about 4:00pm, our parents started turning all of the clocks in the house ahead in 15min increments, and then after we ate and us kids were playing in the basement, they would set the clocks forward every hour until it was about 10min to “midnight”. Then they would call us all up, we would do the countdown, drink our sparkling grape juice, dance around the house, and then off to bed we went. After which our parents had plenty of time to relax by themselves after our little heads had hit the pillow.  Clever, huh?

Story 2:

One bright and sunny summer day, a little 4 year old me was sitting on a rustic red, wooden picnic table chowing down on more then one slice of pink, juicy, crisp watermelon. I discovered a little, smooth, black seed inside of my watermelon and then like any curious little munchkin I asked my daddy what it was. My dad, this point sporting a horribly caterpillar like brown mustache on his upper lip, explained to me that it was a watermelon seed and that if I planted it a new watermelon would grow.

 I was completely fascinated by this concept of a little black seed growing into a big pink watermelon, and being a girl who preferred spending more time in the dirt then anywhere else, I decided that I would plant it. 

With seed in hand, I grabbed my little plastic yellow shovel and marched over to the dirt filled spot underneath the slide attached to my wooden swing set. I knelt down and dug a little hole, placed the seed in the hole and covered it with dirt. My mom helped me fill a little watering can with water and I sprinkled that cool, clear water over my little seed. 

Every single day, for the majority of the summer I faithfully watered my watermelon seed. I was starting to get discouraged because each day I would go look at the dirt covering my seed and every day it still looked like a pile of dirt. Until one beautiful day I skipped out to my small watermelon garden and lo and behold, there is was! Overnight my little black seed turned into a big beautiful watermelon! My little heart was overjoyed and excitedly I ran into my house to fetch my mom who helped me to harvest, cut and eat the fruits of my faithful 4 year old labor. It was the best watermelon I had ever tasted.

Now you might be thinking to yourself that this story seems a little bit two Jack and the Beanstalk ish. And yes, you are right, something about this story does not seem quite right. Until I was 16 years old I firmly believed that I grew that watermelon all by myself, and that it was the best darn watermelon that anyone had ever grown. Until one fateful night at the dinner table I was fondly remembering this magical time in my childhood when my mother, with the best of intentions I’m sure, crushed this joyful childhood memory. She could hardly contain her laughter when she explained to me that she and my dad realized that my seed would never grow into a watermelon and so once I was in bed my dad strategically placed a watermelon on top of that pile I dirt I had been watering for weeks for me to find in the morning. Obviously I fell for it.

After getting over my initial shock that I had lived a lie for the last 12 years of my life, I was able to laugh about the fact that my thumb was not as green as I thought.  


It is clear that Mr. and Mrs. Black don't mess around, and are never afraid to pull a little loving hoax.

My Family

Our idea of what a family is comes first and foremost from what we experience within our own families. So, before I start exploring other people’s experience of family, I will explore my own.

I am the eldest daughter of Curt and Barb Black and I have seven siblings who follow in line after me about every two years or so. First Sophie came, then Helen, then Jonathan. Next, Ava was born, then Samuel, Jane and finally Josephine.

Being the oldest of eight children meant that I had a lot of responsibilities from a young age. I remember being a “second mom” of sorts to my younger siblings. Having to take on more responsibilities at a young age meant that I matured faster – which I am grateful for now – but also meant that I missed out a little bit on just being a kid.

I never doubted the fact that I was loved by my parents and my siblings. My mom and dad read, prayed with and played with me and my brothers and sisters. We also made it a point to have family dinners together almost every night, which is something I did not realize not many people had the experience of growing up. My mom is a really good cook, and my dad is too, but my mom did most 

of the cooking in our family, and she taught me and my sisters to love being in the kitchen as well.

My mom and dad choose to homeschool my siblings and I. My mom did most of the teaching, but my dad helped us a lot with math and science when he got home at night from his job as a Chiropractor. I really enjoyed being homeschooled. I liked that I got to develop close relationships with my siblings and parents while learning at home, as well as be a part of a large homeschooling community. My siblings and I had many friends who were homeschooled who lived close by that we did school and fun activities with as well as participated in vocal choir and hand bell choir. Now some of us are at home, some at private schools and some at public schools because my parents believe that all of us kids should learn in the way and in the environment we do best. My siblings and I were also involved in theater, soccer, piano lessons, 4-H and at our parish. Being very busy was a norm for the Black family and still is!

Every year my family and our close family friends travel to a cabin up north in Wisconsin and spend a week there swimming, eating, boating, eating, playing games, exploring, eating and enjoying each other company. (Did I mention we do a lot of eating?!?) The week at the cabin is something that I anticipated all year (and still do) because it was a time for our family to reconnect with each other and with our friends.

Growing up I never really wanted for anything. I always had clothes to wear, food to eat and a bed to sleep in. I never really worried about money even when the recession hit and my family went thought a little bit of a financial crisis, because I did not really feel the effects.

My family has gone thought some hard things, deaths of extended family members and struggles with mental health and learning disabilities. But through all of the hard times my family grew closer, I think because my parents made an effort to learn from, and help my siblings and I learn from the experiences that we went through.

Over my years of growing up my family had a few other families live with us when they were going though times of crisis. I always thought that this was great because I loved having some of my best friends stay with us. Looking back on those times now, I see how generous and supportive my parents are and I hope to be able to have the same kind of active love for my friends and family as my parents did and still do.

Extended family also played a big role in my life growing up. We always spent holidays with my grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins from both sides of the family. My grandparents would give us gifts and spend time with us, and we would travel to MN often to visit and stay with my extended family on my mom’s side. On my mom’s side of the family there are 36 cousins and I am the oldest, which makes family gatherings big and loud and tons of fun! My family is Catholic and practices the faith and most of my extended family does too, but some do not, which adds another interesting aspect to the times we all spend together.

Now that Sophie and Helen and I are all out of the house going to school in three different states, our family dynamics have changed a bit. I would say that overall we have become closer as a family, in a unique way, because being away from each other makes us appreciate the times that we have together all the more. Thinking about what our family is going to look like in the next 10 years, is something that I like to do sometimes. I wonder who will be married, who will have kids, where will everyone be living...all is so uncertain! One thing I am certain of though is that we will all still love and care for each other, because that is just how my family is.

I know that I have been blessed with a great family life and I am so thankful for the critical role my family has played in my life and will continue to play. 

The Purpose

The title of this blog, which I think is quite clever if I do say so myself, is “Family Facets”. I will be using this blog to explore the many diverse facets of FAMILY through exploring my thoughts, opinions and experiences along with those of others.

To get this thing started, let’s begin by looking at and exploring the words “FAMILY” and “FACET”.

Above is the dictionary definition for the word family. At it's most basic level a family is a group of parents and children living together in one household or the descendants of a common ancestor. But for most, that is not what we think of when we think family. When I think of family I think of my mom and dad, my seven younger siblings, my grandparents, and my aunts, uncles and cousins. When I think of my family, I think of joy - good times and bad times - but an overarching senses of joy. However, when you think of family, you might think "oh, those are the people who betrayed/hurt me", or "my friends are more family then my so called real family will ever be" or "family can be whatever you want it to mean, the traditional concept of family is outdated and irrelevant".  To say the least, the word and concept of FAMILY is one that is highly charged and many sided. 

That leads us to the next word: FACET. As we can see above, the dictionary definition is: "one side of a many-sided thing, or a particular aspect or feature of something". "Facets" is just the plural of "facet", and as we have already established, there are many, many FACETS to FAMILY. 

If you have been following the news, or if you just walk down the street, it is plain to see that the traditional view of family, and what it means to be a family is being stretched and challenged in today's society. The family, being the very unit or molecule of society (we all come from a family whether we like it or not), must be examined because it is critical for our society to survive and thrive. 

I know that I am not alone in this opinion: 

In our world today, there is a war on the basic unit of society - the FAMILY. There are attacks coming from every side: drugs, violence, alcohol, divorce, technology, money, abortion, same sex "marriage"... just to name a few. 

With this war on family going on all around us and effecting everyone of us, I think that it is important that we look at our own families, our experiences of family, and what we know to be true about family so that we can learn from our experiences and those of others and put an end to this war. 

So that is the very thing that this blog is going to do: talk about the many FACETS of FAMILY, so that we all may grow and better understand what God intended family to be and work towards protecting and preserving the FAMILY.