Dear Tobin,

What a drab, dull winter we’ve been having.  We haven’t had much of the right kind of snow for building snowpeople or snowballs.  It’s been too cold to play outside but not quite cold enough to cancel school.  We’re all counting down the days till spring break and our Florida Keys trip.  You’ve managed to keep a cheerful face through most of it, though.  You are a spirited and energetic guy, which means you sometimes suffer when you don’t get chances to run around outside, but it also keeps you buoyant through bleak days.

We keep our chins up with lunch dates, time at the Sycamore Mall indoor play area, and family movie nights.  Last night was The Goonies, which you were kind of grumpy about at first, since you wanted to watch The Incredibles again.  But after I showed you the trailer, you thought it looked pretty good, and both you and Miles ended up loving it.

Your biggest area of expertise right now is animals.  You like to watch Wild Kratts while Callum naps in the afternoons, and it’s educational mission has certainly been successful with you.  You can name all sorts of varieties of animals I’ve never heard of, and you know all about which ones are predators and which ones are prey, and which habitats they all live in.  Your dad was leafing through National Geographic yesterday, and you looked over his shoulder.  “Is that a spotted [something]?”  I forget what the animal was, and I can’t go check right now because Callum is napping next to me and I don’t want to wake him up.  But it most certainly was the spotted whatever.

You got a wild animals calendar for Christmas, and of course you want to be just like Miles and cross off days as you complete them.  Unfortunately, you haven’t grasped the left-to-right, top-to-bottom way we visually depict time in the western world.  It’s a hard concept to explain, and you are not one to accept “That’s just the way it is” as an answer.  In your mind, right-to-left and back-to-front makes just as much sense.  Anyone relying on your calendar would think February was already over.  Wouldn’t that be nice?  February’s the worst.

We just measured you yesterday, and you’ve grown several inches in the last year.  You’re still one of the smaller kids in your class, though, and I don’t think you’ll end up a bruiser.  That’s okay.  Little guys don’t play football.  You’re a little bullet of energy and sometimes recklessness, so anything that holds you back is a good thing.

You’re a great shopping buddy.  Your HyVee girlfriend is back from an extended post-surgical leave, so you were happy (but strangely shy) to see her again.  We went to Costco the other day, and you talked me into buying cookies despite my plan not to, since I’m avoiding sugar.  You decided to hide the cookie package from me to help me not eat them.  You hid under your bed, about two inches in.  I found them pretty fast, but I’m not going to tell you that, because you were so proud of how supportive you were being of my healthy lifestyle goals.

Of course, at dinner last night, you said, “You should have sugar, mom.  It’s really good.”

Your current favorites:  peanut butter toast, cereal (Raisin Nut Bran with the raisins and almonds picked out or Honey Nut Cheerios) and milk, icy orange juice, pepperoni pizza, running around your room like a wildman while I try to read Harry Potter to you and Miles, Minecraft, taking off your socks, and singing crazy songs to make Callum laugh.

Photo by Gary Clarke

You still fit perfectly into my lap, and I’m always happy to have you there.  Sometimes it gets a little crowded when two or more kids are trying to scramble onto me, but you and your brothers are pretty good squishers if I must get squished.  You are hilarious and sunshiny and indomitable.  You are my Tobin and I love you.

You might be slightly insane, but I still love you.

Love,

Mommy