I remember the moment I went into labor with my first born child. While she was busy signaling (contractions) to me that she was ready for her grand arrival into the world I was quickly grabbing any necessities that had gone astray from my hospital bag. Once done with that I hit the late night road with my mother for the short trip to the hospital. I was excited and nervous all at once to meet this new little person. What would she be like? Joyful? Comedic? Smart? Sporty? Who would she look more like? Me or my husband? My mother and I stopped en-route to the hospital to pick up a pack of gum. Like any other meeting with a new person I suppose I wanted to have minty fresh breath when meeting my baby. Would she remember that her mama had minty fresh breath when they placed her in my arms for the first time?

If she ever comes back to read this blog I suppose she will definitely know that fresh breath was of great importance to me at that time. Maybe we’ll talk about this in the future if she ever asks for the story of her birth. Then she won’t need to refer to this blog.

Anyhow, this brings me to my main point of this particular post: Why should anyone share family history with children? Are the smallest of details of any benefit to children? What kinds of family stories should you share? When is the best time to share family history?
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