By Traci S. Sanders

Remember when you thought you were always right? No…I’m not talking about the teenage years, although I’m guessing, that could also apply. I’m talking about the single digits. You probably see this with your kids, this absolute “It’s True!” attitude that you can’t argue with and get very far…at all. 

In retrospect, they’re pretty curious, often amusing, and sometimes hilarious, but in the moment, you probably resemble a thoughtful, smirking, or laughing-so-hard-I’m-crying emoji, and, oh, if emojis had sound…that might be even more accurate (maybe someday:) 

So, what’s your favorite “Wow! Was I wrong” moment in your childhood? I bet it will make you laugh – or cringe – and probably the person you share it with. Here’s mine, well, one of many…

When I was 7, I was positive that teachers came with the school, not part of the school…with the school. 

Desks✅

Paper✅

Pencils✅

Teachers✅

I have no idea why I thought this, nor did I have any reason not to believe it. I mean, when I showed up at school my teachers were there, and when I left, well, they were still there. The next day, same thing…

Fast forward to the end of the year, and I overheard (well, eavesdropped) on a conversation between teachers, one of whom was moving. To me, I couldn’t figure out how a teacher moved schools – did the moving truck come? At some point during this conversation the proverbial bulb turned on. I actually think my jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe it! Teachers were human! 

I didn’t tell anyone what I learned that day, because that would have required me telling them what I thought before that day, and, at this point, I was embarrassed; well, embarrassed, yet, incredibly grateful that I was so sure of myself I hadn’t asked anyone if it was true.

But if I had shared it, well…I’m sure there would have been a lot of laughter, maybe not with me in the room, but later?! I can only imagine…

So, the next time your child says something that makes you laugh, smile, or simply shake your head, write it down…you’ll be glad you did and so will they… 😊

Enjoy!

By Traci S. Sanders

A present every month! If I had told my children this when they were younger, they would have been (in order): ecstatic, reflective, doubtful. As my son liked to say: “What’s the catch?” And here it is: One present a month…including December.

When my friend told me this great idea, if was one week after Christmas. And while I love buying gifts – often highly “recommended” by the recipient – they all come at once.

As much as I’d love to say I remember every gift ever received at Christmas, I can’t; neither can my children. Yet, when I think of a gift my son or daughter chose when we spent time together; in essence, when we made a memory, then, well…that’s a gift in itself.

There is one exception – books exist outside this rule. If my children wanted to buy a book, I never said no. And I never regretted it. Those books are often some of their favorites, and the ones that sit on their shelves long after they stop reading them. 

So, back to the present…

I love this idea for a lot of reasons, but my favorite is that it reminds me that the gifts we never return and never forget, indeed, those we cherish the most, are the traditions we share and the moments we hold. 

So, as your child chooses the “perfect” present each month, enjoy this time. Even if the present breaks, shrinks, rips, disappears, or gets ignored, the most important gift remains…

Enjoy!

By Traci S. Sanders

My dad and I shared many things; yet, I only recently learned that the way we read was one of them. I discovered this while sitting with family friends who asked me what I was reading. Pulling my book out of my purse, with turned-down corners marking nearly every page, they laughed. “Well…who did we know who did this?” Isn’t it funny what we inherit from our parents? A love of reading? Definitely. Folding pages that matter to us? Really?! Maybe I noticed it as a child; maybe I saw it as an adult; or maybe in some mysterious way, it is just how we were wired. Irrespective, I like to think that every time I open a book, he is right there next to me, smiling (or more accurately, smirking) with the turn of every slightly skewed page…

This one’s for you dad…

A Dog-Eared Life

I used to think that dog-eared pages – those little folded triangles – were simply place holders; an end to the day’s reading and a marker for the next.

I don’t think that anymore.

For most of my adult reading life, I have turned down pages in nearly every book; I have also turned them up. And I never unfold them. They are a visual symbol of all that I have learned.

It does not matter whether the spine binds fiction or nonfiction, poems or novels, because it is what is shared and how that makes me pause and reflect. At times, It is as if the words turn a light on inside myself, illuminating that which was previously unseen; other times, it is the sharing of knowledge or ideas previously unknown that shift my perception and, thus, my understanding.

And so I dog-ear these pages that enrich my life. The fragments of language that transform me; changing my world through the power of words. 

If my dad was here, I would ask him why he dog-eared the pages of a book. I think, he would, first, say something funny, then he would ask me a question about what he just read, and then he would tell me why. But I like to think – knowing how much he loved to learn – that he did it for a similar reason; because he had an overwhelming curiosity satiated – in part – by reading – and folding – as many, as often, and as varied a collection as time allowed. I have these books now – the ones that really mattered to him. I’ve read some and started others. They all look very similar to mine, although he did use yellow highlighter to mark certain passages (something, after grad school, I loathe to do). Other than that, we were pretty similar. Sometimes, I try to figure out just why a certain page is turned down. And while I often don’t know, it does get me to read it. And maybe that was one of his reasons all along. Maybe it is one of mine as well. 

And so…As you open a book to read over the holidays, take a moment and wonder: who in my life am I like when I read? There is a story in there just waiting to be told.

Enjoy!

By Traci S. Sanders

As Thanksgiving approaches, we tend to look back, grateful for all that was; then forward, grateful for all that is and will be. How interesting that the word itself follows this same path, reminding us that it is the last part of the holiday’s name, and then the beginning, that gives Thanksgiving its meaning: “givingthanks.”

Enjoy!

By Traci Sanders

A true story…

When I was little (like 5 to 7 years old little), my mom had me give my friends underwear for their birthday. I kid you not. We would go to the store and pick out “cute” (my mom’s word) underwear in those plastic packages where each pair was layered just so (so there was no mistaking what underwear patterns you were buying). I used to ask/beg my mom, “Why?” I so desperately wanted to buy something else for my friend; but my mom always said “All kids need underwear.”

Sitting in the inevitable birthday circle – right before the cake and ice cream (so no one had left yet), my friend would start opening the pile of gifts. While everyone oohed and aahed… not me, I just stared at the one wrapped by my mom… The countdown had begun… 

And then it came, “Oh, this one’s from Traci.” So, there was always this weird moment when my friend would rip into the package always to be somewhat startled (like the underwear had yelled “SURPRISE!” which, let’s be honest, it might as well have), and not really say anything except some unintelligible gasp echoed by pretty much everyone else in the circle. And then her mom – with her voice raised two octaves – would say something like “Ohhh, thank youuuu.” 

The good news is that the underwear-giving birthdays didn’t continue, but the funny stories did, party after party, after party…

So, enjoy all those birthdays, and the parties that go with them. There are moments in there that you and your mom will laugh about for decades to come, because there is no greater gift than the gift of stories.

Enjoy!