11/21/2017

The Tobin Times #75

Filed under: — Aprille @ 2:06 pm

Dear Tobin,

Last month I wrote about how you were driving us crazy, how you were presenting such frustrating behavior that we were about to lose our minds.  I’d be lying if I said that had completely disappeared, since we’ve had some challenging moments, but I do think you’re finding a better way.  Maybe it’s adjusting to kindergarten, maybe it’s the increased restrictions we’ve put on your screentime, or maybe it was just a phase, and you’re on your way out of it.  Regardless, I’m very happy to have had more frequent glimpses of the sunshine-face who joined our family over six years ago.

Your dad and I went to your first parent-teacher conferences of your elementary school career, and they truly couldn’t have gone better.  Your teachers had nothing but praise for your skills both academic and social.  I was proud to know you’ve become good friends with many of your classmates, and you are kind and friendly to everyone (except your brothers).  You brought home a paper turkey craft, with each tail feather labeled with something you’re thankful to have in your life.  Each feather showed a different friend’s name.  You and Miles are planning an elaborate group playdate that involves a snowball fight, and once we have snow on the ground, you’re going to have a hard time choosing which friends to invite.

Your teachers told me that one thing they appreciate about you is your sense of humor.  One teacher said it’s so refreshing to have someone laugh at her jokes.  It reminded me of the time I was a Spanish TA for beginner students, and one semester I happened to get a Mexican American kid in my class.  He understood Spanish well but wanted to improve his reading and writing, since his education had all been in the U.S.  I had become accustomed to my jokes (in Spanish) all disappearing into the ether, but I kept making them if only to entertain myself.  All of a sudden, when I made a joke, I heard laughter.  It was simultaneously refreshing and disconcerting to know that someone was actually listening.  I know you keep your teachers on their toes that way too.

Your teachers seem to be doing a good job finding appropriate challenges for you while keeping you part of the regular team, too.  You and your friend Kit, who is in another kindergarten class and also has strong math skills, have a special time on Wednesdays when you play math-based games together.  You have been enjoying that, and ever since you learned to play Top It (the card game we used to call War), we’ve been playing it a lot.

You’re also learning to read, much to Miles’s consternation.  He’d gotten used to being the only literate kid in the family, but our old trick of spelling out words with him doesn’t work to keep secrets from you anymore.  You certainly feel proud of yourself, though.  You might do well to not blurt things out, though, because sometimes it’s valuable to keep things secret from Callum, our last remaining non-reader.

That too reminds me of my teaching and learning experiences.  I used to get so frustrated with my students when I would spend five minutes on a circumlocution to try to get them to understand a word without telling them the English equivalent.  I got so frustrated when people would blurt out the English word, because translation at that level is represents very superficial learning.  I spent all that time on circumlocution because it was course policy, but also because I have a very clear memory of Mrs. Mickelson, my high school Spanish teacher, doing something similar.  The class had learned the meaning “to make” of the verb hacer, and she was holding up a picture of a man at an airport and saying “¿Qué hace?”  Everybody was trying to figure out what he was making—he wasn’t cooking or knitting or anything obvious like that.  Finally, after more prompting, it dawned on me that hacer also means “to do.”  I’m not sure why she never told us that, as it’s a more common usage than “to make,” but I remember everything about the experience.  That’s the most concrete example I have of the tenet that people need to figure things out for themselves.

What I’m getting at, Tobin, is that I think you may be figuring things out for yourself.  Your dad and I have tried in every way we can think of to communicate with you—from calm discussion (always the starting point) to trying to get to the bottom of the causes of your rudeness to yelling (almost always the ending point, because options A and B rarely get anywhere).  Maybe what you need is just to figure things out for yourself.  Telling you to stop dancing around like a maniac and sit down and eat your dinner is like telling you that hacer means “to do.”  It’s not a worthless thing to do, and I don’t see us not trying to correct your behavior in the short term.  But you’re going to have to figure out that tormenting your brothers makes them angry at you, which leads to slammed doors and pinched fingers and tears.  I think you’re getting there, or at least you’re headed there.

I’m very glad that school is going so well and that you feel secure enough in our love that you can let your guard down at home.  I’m glad you laugh at jokes and are thankful for your many friends.  I’m thankful for your bright smiles and the fact that you’ve been giving them to me more often.

By the way, what the man in the picture was doing was esperando un avión.  Esperar can mean both “to wait for” and “to hope.”  We’ll do both, because you’re worth it.

Love,

Mommy

 

11/9/2017

The Callum Chronicle #34

Filed under: — Aprille @ 2:22 pm

Dear Callum,

You’re creeping steadily toward three, and I’m trying to relish these last months of babyhood.  I know that you’re on your way to being long and lean like your brothers, so last I caught on video one of my favorite parts of your baby-fatted little self.  It won’t be long before my jowls start flapping like that when I run, and I ask you kindly to not document it.  It’s much cuter on you.  Your baby days are running out—and some would argue that they’re already over.

That has good aspects and bad.  Tobin and Miles are very excited for you to stop sleeping with your dad and me, because Tobin wants you in the bunk bed with him, and Miles wants his own room.  He’s going to get “your” room, where you never sleep, but it’s where we change your diapers and keep your clothes.  You’ve shown very little interest in potty training so far, though.  For the time being, you’re still sleeping in our bed and pooping in your pants.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Much like your brothers around this age, you’re still in a big Mommy phase.  I guess it’s because we spend so much time together.  Not only is it just the two of us during the school day, I often end up hanging out with you while one or both of your brothers is doing some activity.  You have almost entirely given up naps now, so we have a couple more togetherness hours every day.  It can be pretty exhausting, but you also do a good job playing with your dad when he gets home at night.  Sometimes you try to throw him out of bed, though.

You’ve been driving Tobin crazy lately.  You’re very grabby, and he finds it outrageously unfair that you get in less trouble than he does for snatching things away.  We definitely tell you not to do it, but a lot of what you do is just regular toddler stuff, sorting out ownership and internal rules.  That can spur some serious frustration in Tobin, so we’re trying to be even-handed in rule enforcement, but it can be hard on everyone.  You’re still very much a team, though.  He’s proud to show you off to his friends at school, just like Miles was proud to show him off when he was a little guy.

This was the first Halloween when you really got it—you got the knack of saying “trick or treat” when approaching a treat-giver.  Fortunately no one asked you for a trick, because you didn’t have anything in your arsenal besides your cuteness.  Only one person found it necessary to question whether a boy could be a witch, which is better than when Tobin was a witch a few years ago, but still higher than the number of people who I think should be concerned about gender norms for fictional creatures.  We trick or treated at your dad’s office, where you got lots of candy and attention, and then for a little while around the neighborhood that evening.  You and Tobin got cold and tired pretty quickly, and you had a hard time understanding that you didn’t need to go inside every house when the door opened.  Mostly, though, it was a very fun day.

The balmy days of early fall are over, and we’re firmly entrenched in coat season now.  We enjoyed the last warm days, spending a good amount of time outside and finishing up our gardening tasks.  You helped me pick the final tomatoes and plant garlic, though you got pretty mad at me when I took out the tomato cages and wouldn’t let you be outside when I tilled up the area for the garlic.  You stood by the window and screamed while Tobin told me, “Callum is literally dying!”  Tobin and I had to have a talk about the proper use of the word “literally,” because really you were just mad that I wanted to protect your eyes from flying rocks.

You love to be outside, and I think it’s hard on you to be trapped inside on these chilly days.  We always seem to be doing something, whether running errands or waiting around during your brothers’ activities, so we’re not actually stuck in the house.  Still, you are always up for adventure.  We’re going to have to get to Tot Time soon so you can run around freely.

The holiday insanity is on its way, and I think you’re going to have so much fun this year.  You’re going to love playing with cousins and working on homemade gifts and wrapping presents (considering your love of Scotch tape).  I doubt you’ll be through your Halloween candy before all the Thanksgiving and Christmas treats start descending, but that way you might not miss the Snickers and Twix bars your dad and I have swiped.

Your current favorites:  bar code scanners in stores, Paw Patrol toy videos (that is, YouTube videos of people playing with Paw Patrol toys, not the actual show), Curious George’s Halloween Boo-Fest (and, more importantly, using the remote to turn it on and off), taking showers and baths alone or with Miles or Tobin, your play kitchen, pizza, and grapes.  You got out Miles’s old kid-friendly tool set last night, and you got very interested in the hand-cranked drill and putting balsa wood in your mouth.

A few nights ago, your dad came to bed and felt around in your usual spot.  He couldn’t find you, so he reached over and jostled me a little and said, “Where’s the baby?”  You had cuddled up so tightly against me that it was like we were one.  It was almost like those days nearly three years ago, when you did that heat-seeking newborn thing.  A while later, though, you scooted away from me and sprawled out in the bed.  I hope your dad enjoyed the extra space while he had it.

No matter which room you sleep it, little Callum, you will always have a place next to me—literally and figuratively.

Love,

Mommy

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11/8/2017

Monthly Miles Memo #118

Filed under: — Aprille @ 2:40 pm

My dear Miles,

I don’t know if you and your brothers orchestrate it this way on purpose, consciously or unconsciously, but the three of you have a way of coordinating your behavior so that at least one of you is usually in a reasonable stage.  Maybe it’s a form of one-upsmanship, when one of you is behaving really frustratingly, at least one other relishes playing the “good kid” who can exchange knowing glances with his stressed-out parents.  I put “good kid” in quotes because I know that all three of you boys are truly good kids, but you all go through stages when you can be pretty difficult to manage.  I don’t know if I would have said so a month ago, but lately, you’ve been a pretty rational and sweet guy to have around.  I can only think of one outrageous screaming fit you’ve had recently, over a disputed outcome in a game of Clue.  Mubby is probably still traumatized from that.  Still, that was an aberration.  Mostly you’ve been mature and funny and kind.

Your most intense hobby lately has been drawing comics.  You and your friend Jacob are co-authors on a comic strip called “Broken TV Screen,” and at those times when I make you stop playing Minecraft, you are usually happy to go write some.  I can’t say that I get all of them, especially because every single strip ends with a broken TV screen, which is usually a non-sequitur.  Still, you seem to enjoy it, and Jacob has become a good friend.

You had a piano recital recently, and you did a great job.  You seem to think that speed is the ultimate proof of mastery, so you played your song at a pace that emphasized speed over nuance.  You were uninterested in my opinions in that area.  Still, you definitely knew your song well.  I was most proud of the fact that, when you accidentally skipped a repeat, you thought on your feet (fingers?) and threw in an extra repeat of a different part to balance it out.  You didn’t get flustered or stop; you just moved smoothly through your new arrangement, and anyone who hadn’t heard you play it a hundred times would have never known.

You also lost your first tooth in about a year.  I don’t know why you went so long between tooth losses, but your dentist said you’re on the brink of losing a whole bunch of them.  You’ve gone to the orthodontist a couple of times to assess what your future might be in terms of tooth position management, but for now we’re in a holding pattern.  I think she wants you to lose and grow a few more teeth before she knows what she’ll need to do to straighten things out.

The biggest accomplishment of the month was the completion of your first 5k.  You, with the support of your dad as coach, have been training through your school’s new Let Me Run team.  When you first started, you hated it, but you saw how quickly a person can improve with a little perseverance.  Unlike your piano style, speed is not your priority while running.  Nonetheless, your 5k time was faster than I expected it to be, and you reached your goal of running the entire distance with no walk breaks.  Mubby, Tobin, Callum and I were lingering around the finish line while Skitter scouted the course for photo opportunities.  I kept an eye on the clock, and I wasn’t expecting to see you before the forty-five minute mark.  When someone (Mubby I think) said she thought she saw you and your dad coming around the bend for the finish, I glanced at the clock and thought she must be mistaken, because we were nowhere near forty-five minutes.  But when I looked, there you were, exhausted but happy and proud.  You declined your dad’s suggestion of a sprint to the finish, but you kept your steady pace and made it.

You managed to have enough energy to twirl your medal around at Family Folk Machine rehearsal later that day, so I guess you didn’t use up all your reserves.

Photo by Gary Clarke

While I don’t think anything is going to match your third grade experience, you seem to be doing well in fourth.  You had a cool Halloween costume (Herobrine, a Minecraft character), and you actually danced a little in the dancing portion of the school Halloween party.  We did some good trick-or-treating at your dad’s office and around the neighborhood, and you wanted to stay out a lot longer than Tobin and Callum.

Another cool thing your doing in school is a book drive to support the rebuilding of Stanley Switlik Elementary in Marathon, Florida.  It was badly damaged by Hurricane Irma, and you and your friends wanted to do something to help.  You’ve been gathering books and writing letters to the kids there.  Marathon Key just happens to be our usual vacation spot, and the owner of our rental condo assures us that it suffered minimal damage and will be ready for our visit this spring break.  He also wants to help us organize a trip the Stanley Switlik Elementary, where you can meet some of the kids you and your classmates are supporting.

It’s satisfying to have so much good news to write about this month, Miles.  The advantage of being honest in these monthly letters for all you kids is that I can look back on them and realize that every rough patch is temporary, and that you all go through them, and that you all have great months like this one.  I’m really glad you’re my funny, creative, smart little boy.

Love,

Mom

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