“I have a question…”

by Traci S. Sanders

Here’s an amazing statistic from Warren Berger (amorebeautifulquestion.com): 

Did you know that between the ages of 2 and 5, children ask about 40,000 questions? 

This got me thinking about one of the ways the very young learn – they point – which I like to think of as the original question mark. Babies and toddlers may not ask “What’s that?” but we know what they mean as soon as they point. 

I see this all the time in my neighborhood – children in strollers pointing away. It’s as if they’re conducting their own learning. 

This led me to wonder about my experience when my children were very young. While I talked, read, and explained the world to them every day, it was always my questions and my answers. Yet, when they wanted to know something, they simply pointed; it was their very own question. 

As my children got a bit older, they stopped pointing and started asking. These were our years of discovery; learning together for the sake of learning. Some questions led to answers that skimmed the surface and disappeared; others dove deep and continued for years; and still others remained long after the initial questions had been asked, influencing them to this day. 

Looking back, some of the questions were about milestones, their milestones, and the stories behind them. This made me think that, throughout life, questions such as these take a unique path; they start with us and continue with our children. 

Our questions become their own. 

We ask…

When will they be born?

Whose eyes will they have?

What will their first word be?

What books will they love? What interests will they hold? 

What stories will they tell?

What gifts will they share with the world?

They ask…

When is my birthday?

Whose eyes do I have?

What was my first word?

What were my favorite books? Favorite interests?

What did I talk about? 

Who else loved to do this as much as me?

In essence, these are questions for understanding ourselves. 

And they continue – albeit in a different time and place – generations of asking and receiving, because we can inherit the answers from those we love; we just have to ask the questions. 


“The End…New Story.”

by Traci S. Sanders

When my kids were young and a bright conversation turned cloudy; or they asked one question ten different ways looking for the answer they really wanted; or, more often than not, when they procrastinated because they didn’t want their day to end, I would say “The End…New Story…” 

This worked really well for years, until… they used it against me. It was bound to happen. As my dad loved to say: “Good minds create. Great minds steal.” Although, I don’t think he was talking about his grandkids. Case in point:

“Clean your room!”

[Insert blank stare here]

“The End…New Story.”

Clever, but single digits only hold so much sway. So, new rules were created, like “Only I’m allowed to say that! The End…New Story.”

Today, my kids laugh at this (although I’m pretty sure they will use this little tactic when they’re parents).

They’ll also learn, as their children get older, that this phrase takes on a very different meaning.

Today, “The End” comes with a college and high school graduation, a new job, and a new school. This “New Story” is a doozy. 

But milestones are like that. They’re a moment with a lot of history because getting from There to Here comes with a lot of, well, miles. Not just those in the car, in the hallways, and the home. Of course, those count, but the path – the miles and miles of words, that make up this time, because they brought us to this moment. And that, I think, is what makes milestones so bittersweet. In essence, the familiar and worn down path, written with millions of steps and stories, has finished. 

And we know how it ends. Happy and hopeful. Just the way we wanted, but like any great story, we’re a bit sad to see it go. And so we turn the last page, hold it a bit longer than the rest, before we slowly let go and gently close the book.

“The End…New Story.”

Wise things come in small packages…

Traci S. Sanders

Birthdays are milestones, for the young and old alike. For some, it is a celebration; for others, a reflection.

I’m in the middle of all these birthdays; actually, a bit over the top. Yet I find myself in a peculiar place, going through what is, by all accounts, for the very young – picture books. The first time I read these, I didn’t realize just how much wisdom there was in those illustrated pages, but then I started reading. And I realized that so many are about love and compassion; hopes and dreams; loss and healing – in essence, growing up and growing old. Life gave me a new perspective by which to read these words, so while the words stayed the same, the meanings have changed.

That is the power of books. We come to them one way, yet leave as another. I used to think that books had an expiration date for when you could learn from them, even enjoy them. I was wrong. Because as we add to our story, the stories add to us.

So, this birthday, as the calendar moves forward one more year, I am incredibly grateful for the wisdom discovered, and rediscovered; and all within the pages of children’s timeless books.


“The tax man cometh…”

Traci S. Sanders

Want to hear one of the best ideas out there?

Not so long ago, I walked into a restaurant and the guy behind the counter starts sharing his friend’s story. Here it is:

Every time his friend received money – for birthdays (starting with the first) and holidays, his dad took half. My husband would call that “Dad Tax,” but his usually has to do with dessert. I’m not sure if that’s what this guy’s dad called it, but for this story, it works.

When this boy got old enough to realize what his dad was doing, the tradition was set. And so, every year, without fail, that’s what he did. “Dad Tax.”

Fast forward to his graduation from high school. Guess what his dad gave him for a gift? Thousands of dollars all saved from years and years of birthdays and holidays. Because, as his dad told him then (and I paraphrase): “If I gave it all to you, you would have spent it on what every boy, myself included, spent it on – candy, toys, gadgets – things you never would have saved; instead you’re starting life with a savings (and you still got to buy a bunch of that stuff). Congratulations son.”

To all those graduates out there – and those to come – Best Wishes!


The Yesterdays of Today

Traci S. Sanders

I like to think that history does not so much repeat itself; it echoes. As we celebrate the holidays this year, I find myself drawn more and more to this phrase, for every holiday has its traditions, yet none stay the same.

As I place gifts around the tree, they look similar to last year’s, but they are different inside, as are we. When we eat our meal, each bite brings back memories, yet the moment makes new ones. As we listen to old stories, we add chapters from our lives. And when we reminisce with photos of the past, we snap our cameras to capture the present.

It’s never the same, because it shouldn’t be. Perhaps that’s because a repeat can diminish, even erase what was, but an echo, that reverberates for a lifetime.

Enjoy the holidays.