My sweet, stubborn, lovable, maddening little Tobin,

You’re five years old now.  You’re straddling that line between big kid and little kid, and that can be a hard position to occupy.  You have such social and emotional awareness sometimes—you know just when to chime in with a flattering word or an expression of love.  I don’t mean to imply that you’re being manipulative (though you probably sometimes are).  You just seem to understand that people need to hear things sometimes, and you know that words have power.

That has its downside as well.  You’ve developed some attitude problems.  When your dad and I ask you to do something you don’t want to do (say, eat neatly with a fork), you let out a very put-upon “Seriously?“  You’ve been using words to express yourself since before your curls grew in, and you have no qualms about employing them to whatever effect you decide is necessary.

Photo by Denny

Your summer session at Kinderfarm went well, and I think you’re excited about going back in September after a couple of weeks of break.  We had Miles’s back-to-school event last night, and some of your neighborhood contemporaries are starting kindergarten.  I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.  You are definitely academically ready for school.  You’ve really taken an interest in math recently, solving problems in your head and telling us how you figured them out.  At times like that, I regret declining to enroll you in kindergarten.  Then other times you scream at us in rage, yank toys out of Callum’s hands, and insist on performing an act one more time after I tell you not to do it.  At times like that, I think another year of maturing would be good for you.

In any case, you like Kinderfarm, and you’re getting a lot of opportunities there for learning that you won’t have in kindergarten.  You’ll get to physical things that suit your temperament, like caring for animals, boating, horseback riding, and wintertime sledding and skating.  Kindergarten is good, but it’s a lot of hard work sitting in chairs.  You’ll do well to use your body and have fun for another year before the serious challenges begin.  Also, I’ll get to put off helping two kids with homework in the evenings for one more year.

We had a fun and low-key birthday celebration for you at Mubby and Skitter’s house.  You got some good toys and a cool Incredible Hulk ice cream cake.  This morning you opened your presents from us first thing (little Legos, a new wallet with a promise of your own library card to put in it, a personalized Odd Squad t-shirt, and a two-wheel scooter).  We’re having dinner at Mekong (your choice) and will sing and blow out candles on your almond cake (also your choice) this evening.

This morning I had an appointment with the nurse-midwife who delivered you (just a check-up—no more siblings for you, I promise).  She could hardly believe that you joined us five whole years ago, and it was fun to remember what was in retrospect my easiest birth.  Birth is never easy, but you were my least complicated delivery.  You came on out, looked around, and settled right in.

Despite your occasional behavior challenges, you still have those qualities.  Miles loves to tell the story of when you were playing tee-ball and had made it to second base.  You were waiting for your teammate to hit the ball so you could run to third, but that sometimes takes a while in preschool-league tee-ball.  While you were hanging out on second, you made friends with the kid from the other team who was fielding.  I admire your easy conversational style and ability to get along with other kids (so long as they’re not your brothers).

Photo by Denny

Actually you get along with your brothers pretty well most of the time.  Sometimes it’s hard.  Sometimes it’s sweet.

Your current favorites:  Odd Squad and Cyberchase, pepperoni pizza, having your own wallet and filling it with your cash and cards, jumping around on furniture like a crazy man, looking at the fish in the seafood section at the Co-op, and running running running dancing dancing dancing never stopping.

Your dad was out of town for a few days late last week and early this week.  We spent most of that time at Mubby and Skittergramps’s house, but we spent Thursday night here at home.  It was the first time I’d put three kids to bed as the only grownup in the house.  You and Miles did a great job.  He read stories to you and cuddled you while I put Callum to bed.  When I went in to check on you guys after I got Callum down, you were both on the bottom bunk.  When I checked on you the next morning, you were both in the top bunk.  I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I’m very glad you have each other.

I don’t think there’s a cage out there that could hold you, my Tobin.  You’re so sweet and so salty.  You’re exhausting and frustrating and cuddly and indomitable.  Even your hair is fantastically unmanageable.  You’re a rascal, and rascals usually come out on top.

Happy birthday, my rascally love.  I’m so glad you’re mine.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Love,

Mommy

My dear Callum,

We’re rounding out the second half of your second year now.  Your dad and I were talking about how our numbering/birthday system is a little confusing.  You’ll be two on your next birthday, but that actually celebrates the completion of your second year.  In any case, I’m enjoying this time with you.  Whoever said the twos are terrible has clearly never met a three- or four-year-old.  I know the challenging preschool years will be upon us soon, so for the time being, I’m soaking up your sweet little toddler self.

You’re a little copycat these days.  You naturally want to do everything your brothers do.  Lately I’ve seen you making tapping motions with your finger and saying “aye tee tee aye tee tee.”  I realized you’re mimicking your brothers typing the password into our family computer.  I won’t publish our password on the open Internet, but you’ve definitely got the right idea.  When you get a hold of my makeup sponge, you bounce it over your face just like one of the YouTube pros.  You will only eat now if you have a plate and fork on your high chair tray.  You’re becoming a big boy.

Due to some logistical weirdness, there will be a time next week when we only have my little car.  We can’t fit three car seats in there if one of them is your big, rear-facing infant seat.  The other day, you, Tobin and I tried out a configuration that involved you in the front-facing toddler seat and Miles and Tobin in boosters.  The recommendation is that you remain rear-facing till two, which is longer than either of your brothers stayed rear-facing.  The recommendation, which had previously been that a child remain in a rear-facing seat until age one,  changed after we had already switched Miles to front-facing.  Iowa law isn’t specific on the topic as long as you’re in a car seat of some kind, so I think we’ll give this configuration a try, at least for that brief period when your dad is out of town and we haven’t gone to Mubby and Skitter’s yet.  You’re going to love it.  Your brothers are going to love it for sure, since you’ve been kicking them mercilessly from your rear-facer for the last month or two.

Maybe you’ll keep your shoes on for longer than five minutes in the car if they’re not right up in your face, too.  Let’s hope.  It’s pretty frustrating to arrive at our destination, crawl into the back seat to get you out, and realize you’ve flung your shoes somewhere into the murky depths of sports equipment, coloring pages, and receipts that is our car.

You’re still curious and excited about the world, though for some reason you are strongly opposed to me taking a shower.  I don’t know why—you’ll play with your brothers happily throughout my whole exercise session, but as soon as my run is over and I want to take a shower, you will not have it.  One issue is that I’ve banned you from the bathroom while I shower, because you won’t keep the shower curtain closed, and I don’t want to destroy our floors from water exposure.

You also get suddenly clingy when I’m in the bathroom trying to get ready for the day.  I’ve gotten pretty good at doing basic hygiene tasks with a twenty-five pound kid on my hip, but if my eyeliner looks wonky, I blame you.

Your brothers and I worked hard on a video that features all your crazy adventures.  You’ve watched “The Exploring Baby” about forty times in the last three days.  You can even fill in the blanks when I sing phrases and leave out words.  It was fun to do, and I’m already imagining playing it on a loop at your high school graduation party/wedding/other major occasion.  I don’t think there’s anything too embarrassing in it, except maybe brief shot of you in just a diaper.

Your big brothers will be going back to school soon, and it’ll be just you and me for several mornings each week.  I’m looking forward to long walks around the neighborhood as the fall mornings grow more palatable.  I’m also hoping you and Tobin and I can do some Tuesday morning Tot Time sessions, now that you’re big enough to really take part.

Your current favorites:  blueberries, ice cream, stir-fry, peaches, baths, faking me out (e.g., holding something out to me, snatching it back, and laughing), waving and saying “bye bye,” attempting the “I love you” ASL sign and saying “I you,” looking at pictures of your cousins, and petting the big St. Bernard at Kinderfarm named Stella.  You’ve also gotten really into books lately, and you’ll often hand a book to your dad or me and ask us to read it.  You really like Who Says That, Cat the Cat? right now.

Have a good month, my little chub-chub.  I’m so glad I have you around.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Miles,

Like every summer before it, this summer has gone fast.  It’s hard to believe that we’re almost at the end of it.  We have a few more fun things planned before school starts, but you’re now in your last two weeks of summer break.  I think we’ve gotten just about everything on our summer activity list done, including some good sprinkler, fountain, and pool time.  We’ve eaten a lot of frozen treats, though that’s getting harder now that Callum is actively demanding his share.

You helped me make one of your favorite ice cream flavors, mint chip, with mint leaves from our garden.  When you were a little kid you used to help me cook a lot, but your interest in that has waned lately.  It made me happy that you were excited to do a cooking project.  It was fairly involved:  we had to pick the mint leaves, muddle them (you enjoyed that part), steep them in hot cream, add egg yolks and other ingredients, chill it, freeze the mixture, and drizzle in the chocolate.  It was a lot of steps with a lot of waiting in between, but you kept your commitment and turned out a really good treat.  The whole family enjoyed it, especially Callum.

Your summer classes have been over for a while, so you’ve mostly been hanging around the house.  We try to get out for some kind of adventure every day.  Yesterday we went downtown and had fun in the fountain.  You’re not usually one to get soaking wet, especially if you’re not wearing a swimsuit.  Initially just Tobin and Callum went in the fountain with the promise that they’d just stick their toes in and get a little bit sprinkled.  You were playing on the nearby playground.  After a while, though, you came over, and somewhat uncharacteristically, you jumped in and started splashing like crazy.  All three of you got so wet that we couldn’t managed to sit in an air-conditioned restaurant for lunch. We got take-out and had a picnic on the Ped Mall, then you guys hit the fountain again.  I didn’t have any towels or extra clothes for you, since the whole fountain thing was a spur-of-the-moment decision.  Your car seats were all soaking wet by the time we got home, but nobody complained.

Your dad gave in and installed Pokemon Go on his phone, so the last couple of nights, you guys have been running around capturing little cartoon creatures.  I don’t pretend to understand the whole thing, but everyone in the universe seems to like it, so it must be pretty great.  I know you’ve caught a few here in our neighborhood.  I hope it doesn’t make you range too far.

You’ve been a reading maniac lately.  You got the new Harry Potter book (actually the script for the play The Cursed Child).  You read it in just a couple of days and really enjoyed it.  You have an older friend you made during one of your Willowwind classes, and he’s also a big Harry Potter fan.  You two have been instant messaging about it almost every day.  You’re also still into board games, especially Monopoly Jr. and Clue.  The last time we were at Mubby and Skittergramps’s house, you and Aunt Suzy played about forty games of Clue.  You were pretty well-matched, too.  She didn’t let you win, and you didn’t lose every time.  You have this other game called Scrabble Twist in which you try to make words from random sets of letters.  We’ve done two-player challenges a few times, and I can still beat you most of the time, but not always.  You’re creeping up on me, little guy.

I’m looking forward to visiting your school in a couple of weeks for the back-to-school night.  They’ve been doing a lot of construction work, which will continue through the next school year.  You’re going to be in a temporary building, which sounds like a bummer, but rumor has it that it’s actually nicer than the main building.  It will have air conditioning, for one thing.  I remember how hard it was to concentrate in a boiling-hot school as a kid, and I’m glad those days are over for you.  It also has lockers, which is pretty exciting for a kid who’s been stuck with cubbies his whole life so far.

Thanks for having such a fun summer with me, Miles.  You’ve been a lot of help—you’ve maintained a mostly good attitude in the face of some challenges presented by your brothers, and they both adore you so much.  It won’t be long before you’re a trustworthy babysitter.  In the meantime, though, we’ll just get you to the third grade.

Love,

Mommy

T: Are you wearing eyeshadow?

A: Yes, I have a little bit of pink on my eyes.

T: Puke?!

A: No, pink. (Jokingly) When people see my eyes, I want them to think, “vomit.”

T: Well, vomit could be any color, depending on what you ate.