My dear Tobin,

It seems like every photo I, your dad, or Skitter takes of you shows exactly who you are:  adventurous, wiggly, funny, dramatic, and enthusiastic.  I had so many pictures to choose from this month, as we just got back from our biannual trip to the Florida Keys.  Just about every picture of you makes me smile and laugh and say, “Yep, that’s Tobin.”

Photo by Denny

Our trip was wonderful in nearly every way.  You and your brothers mostly got along, and having a solid week of pool time really helped you take off in your swimming.  At the beginning of the week, you rejected the water wings I’d packed but mostly stuck to the shallow end.  By mid-week, you were paddling all around and doing coordinated jumps into the deep end with Miles.  By the end of the week, you were swimming the width of the pool with your head underwater.

Photo by Gary Clarke

You finished up your basketball season with aplomb, making big strides in your skills.  You enjoyed having your dad as a coach.  Baseball starts in a couple of weeks, and even though I’m getting emails begging for parent coaches, I think I’m going to have to strongly discourage your dad from coaching this season.  He’s already coaching Miles’s running team, and with Miles playing baseball as well, I don’t think I can handle the schedule intensity.

That’s one thing that makes you different from your dad and me.  He and I both need quiet and relaxation to feel like normal human beings.  I don’t know if that’s a personality thing or just being old, but you have no such requirements.  In fact, it’s a source of conflict sometimes.  You can get out of control with your wiggliness.  On the plane ride home, you were starting to spin out, and as much as your dad tried to get you to calm down, it wasn’t happening (it may have been related to the entire can of Coke the flight attendant gave you).  He ended up grounding you from Legend of Zelda for a couple of days.

You found that devastating.  You’d been away from Zelda for week, and you were so looking forward to playing again when you got home.  At first I felt like the punishment was too harsh—asking a kindergartner to sit still for three hours after having been up since 5:30 a.m and having been fed exclusively on junk food for a day seemed like a recipe for disaster.  I’m not saying you didn’t deserve some kind of punishment.  You were being super annoying.  I understand that it’s important to follow through on promises of both the positive and negative variety.  I want you kids to trust us when we say we’ll do something, whether it’s coming to your school programs or enforcing consequences for rule-breaking.

You and your dad had a long, serious talk about behavior expectations.  He said he felt like it was a productive discussion and that he’d made some headway.  Then, the very next day, you went back to your wiggly ways.  It can be very frustrating.  I’m sure you have no idea how your dad and I struggle with these things.  You probably think that our mission in life is to ruin your fun.  I hope you read these when you’re an adult and wrestling with your own kids’ complicated needs and behavior and have some sympathy for us at these times.

But really, I’m overstating the case.  Yes, you have a hard time sitting still (as I believe I’ve mentioned here before, I think the last time you sat through an entire meal was the last day in your high chair).  Still, you’re so joyful and spunky.  Miles can sometimes be really harsh with you.  He has a biting tone that I think (hope?) he doesn’t realize he’s using, and if a peer talked to me that way, I’d cry three times a day.  You have a great talent for brushing it off or firing right back.  While I sometimes wish you were more open to behavioral correction from your dad and me, I admire your ability to bounce back from negativity.

As is common with kids, these issues we face at home seem not to be problematic at school.  You nailed your conference.  Your teachers seem to really enjoy having you around, and they specifically called out your sense of humor and ability to predict outcomes in class activities.  They’ve been doing a good job tailoring school tasks to challenge you, while not taking all the fun out of it.

I haven’t measured you lately, but I suspect our next against-the-wall measuring session will show a jump in height.  You’ve been so hungry recently that you must be on a growth spurt.  Most of your clothes still fit, but you’ve busted through the knees of almost all your pants.  To your credit, a lot of them were on their second wearer, and also to your credit, you seem fine with patched knees.  I’m just hoping we can hold out through shorts season, because I have no idea what size you’ll need in the fall.

I love your smile, Tobin.  I can always count on you to bring sunshine into a room.  You’ll master adult standards of behavior one of these years; in the meantime, I’ll keep loving my high-energy little boy.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Callum,

You’ve been such a little sweetheart lately.  You’ve had some tantrumy moments, like the other night while I was working on dinner and you decided that you, not I, truly needed the meat thermometer.  You also get a little testy when someone tries to help you wash your hands, which can be an issue because you’re a lot better at applying soap than rinsing it off.  These are unusual moments, though.  Mostly you’ve been sunny and affectionate and adorable.

I guess it wasn’t so adorable when you stuck two DVDs into the optical drive.  But a credit card and some sticky tape solved that problem.

You’ve been super attached to your stuffed Curious George lately.  Neither of your brothers ever had a true comfort object, and I’m not completely sure that’s what George is to you.  I think maybe it’s more that you’ve entered into a stage of a lot of imaginary play, and it’s fun for you to have George as a pretend playmate.  The other day I noticed that you’d left him downstairs, so I brought him up to you.  I said, “It’s your Georgie!” as I handed him to you.  You gave him a big hug, and then, in your squeaky George voice, you said, “It’s my Callie!”

I’ve also overheard some funny conversations you’ve created between your toys.  A few days ago, one action figure said to the other, “What are you doing at my doctor’s appointment?”  Later, one said, “I have fourteen work to do on my computer.”

You’ve been joining on the weekly trips to Family Folk Machine rehearsals most weekends.  You don’t usually sing, but you like to be where the action is.  It might be hard to keep you in the audience come performance time.   I don’t think you have quite the level of self-control required to be a true member just yet, but odds are that you’ll end up in the kids’ section, especially if you can play ukulele.

We’ve got our big Florida Keys trip coming up.  While this is actually your second time, you were only a little over a year old last time, so you probably don’t remember it.  I can’t wait to see your face when you see the ocean for the first time in your conscious experience.  We’ve talked about it (and you told me you were going to get nude there, so maybe you think it’s like a bathtub), but the ocean is one of those things you can’t really understand until you’ve seen it for yourself.

Overall, you’re developing into a brave, confident (sometimes overconfident) person.  Some of this might come from being the littlest brother—you’ve had plenty of exposure to people whom you view as your contemporaries doing things that you’d love to do.  You’ve had babysitters a couple of times lately, and it’s been no big deal at all.  That also probably has to do with your brothers.  It’s no problem hanging out with a sitter if your two best friends are with you.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Two nights ago you did something that I don’t think either of your brothers have ever done unless they were sick.  I was getting washed up and finishing my pre-bedtime home tasks, and you tucked yourself in, cuddled up to George, and fell asleep.  You entirely skipped our stories and hugs bedtime ritual.  You also skipped brushing your teeth, but I was so excited to have an extra half hour of time to myself that I let it slide that once.  You had a great night’s sleep, and the next morning, you toddled out in your sleep-drunk way and found your place in my lap on the couch.  Mornings with you are wonderful, and I’m so glad I get to spend time every day with your smiley little face.

Your current favorites:  playing outside, doing things all by yourself, Peppa Pig, Caillou, pbskids.org games, our Curious George storybooks, Play-Doh, running errands with me, and your Potty Power video (no actual correspondence to potty use for the time being).

We’re going to have a great time on our trip, and I hope you do actually get to be nude in the ocean a little.  That’s a pleasure that’s reserved for the under-five set (at least at the beach where we’re going), and you have a decent chance of remembering it this time.

I love you so much, my little pup.

Love,

Mommy

My dear Miles,

I’m writing this a little early this month, because the next few days are going to be a period of non-stop activity.  On the horizon we have the school spelling bee, your dad’s birthday, and of course our trip to the Florida Keys.

Every morning over breakfast, we look at the extended weather forecast.  Though obviously things can change, right now the forecast is fantastic:  between 74 and 80 degrees, sunny or partly cloudy.  We’ve had a couple of treat days, but overall the last month has been gloomy and rainy/sleety/snowy, so we’re all excited about ditching the winter coats and soaking up some sunshine.  Based on satellite photos, our dear Marathon Key is going to look rather different after Hurricane Irma.  Some of the buildings we know appear to be totally gone.  One of our favorite restaurants is still in business, but in a different location due to hurricane damage.

I’m looking forward to a week without video games, since you and Tobin (and your dad) have gotten pretty Zelda obsessed lately.  I’m not too worried about you, since all you need to be happy is a notebook and a pencil.  You still enjoy writing your long, elaborate, adventure-based comics.  Sometimes you want to walk me through all 200+ panels, and I do a lot of smiling and nodding, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You’ve decided that you want to do both Let Me Run and baseball in the spring.  They don’t completely overlap, but the months of April and May are going to be a blur of activity.  You’ve picked out some summer classes you’re interested in taking.  We’ve only signed you up for one, but it was your highest priority:  the animation camp at Filmscene.  It’s a very cool program, and you loved it last year.  Fortunately you’ve advanced to the next age bracket, so you’ll get a whole new set of activities this time.  One interesting challenge is the fact that it’s an all-day camp and lunch is provided.  You’ve eaten school lunch exactly once in your life, when there was a mix-up about your bagged lunch, and I’m pretty sure you just at some pretzels and apple slices or something.  It’s a testament to how much you want to do animation camp that you’re willing to subject yourself to lunch outside your personal boundaries.  I hope you rise to the occasion and get some new favorites.  If not, I guess you’ll just have to eat a big breakfast and have a snack when you get home.

We had your school conferences last week, and your teacher had very fine things to say about you.  You’re doing well academically and socially, though you sometimes need reminders about when it’s appropriate to blurt out ridiculous things.  Your teacher suggests that it might be because you’re just bored—you and your friends often finish your work early and then get goofy because of the spare time on your hands.  One thing she does that I think is a good skill-building strategy is not prescribe exactly what you should be working on at any given moment.  She just gives you a general set of tasks and lets you prioritize them and work on them basked on your own judgment.  That’s a difficult task for many people, even college students and beyond, so I’m glad you’re getting some practice at it during elementary school.

You’ve had a good fourth-grade year.  It’s not done yet, but it all seems to fly by after spring break.  I can’t believe I’ll have to start thinking of you as a fifth grader soon.  That’s just crazy talk.  I wonder if you’ll be interested in a different haircut for fifth grade.  That will probably depend on whether your friend Daniel cuts his hair.  He’s part of your little gang of weirdos, though I don’t think he’s as weird as you.  I’m going to try to talk you into using a ponytail holder for all or some of your hair during our trip, because I’m afraid you’re going to be a big dripping mess on our many trips in and out of the pool and ocean.

A night or two ago, you lost a tooth, and you asked me not to tell Tobin because he hasn’t lost one yet and you didn’t want him to feel bad.  Seeing things from the perspective of others hasn’t always been a strength for you, so I felt very proud and glad about your development when you said that.  You’re well beyond the tooth fairy years, but you’re not one to turn down a little cash, so you did a good job pretending to be asleep when I slipped the envelope under your pillow at a reasonable hour.

I have to say that, overall, things have been going well for you lately.  You still have a hot-and-cold personality—it doesn’t help that your brothers (especially Tobin) know exactly how to set you off.  Sometimes you flip out over what I would consider minor things.  Clearly they’re not minor to you, so we’re always working on finding positive ways to manage your emotions and express them without screaming at people.  Those moments are getting more unusual, though.  You and Tobin played outside together for the longest time last weekend, and you’ve been giving Callum lots of sweet airplane rides (which may or may not adequately prepare him for our real airplane ride).

Your current favorites:  Legend of Zelda (like everyone in this family except Callum and me), pasta, drawing comics, privacy, Goldfish crackers, and talking about how weird you are.

You’re a little weird, yes, but as we’ve discussed many times, the most interesting people in history were weirdos.  Let your weirdness wiggle, my sweetheart.

Love,

Mom