My dear Tobin,

It’s been quite a week.  One week ago today, we were excitedly getting organized for our trip to Universal Orlando, which was to begin on Saturday.  We were fretting about the weather—things weren’t looking good in our part of the country, but our connection on Saturday was in Charlotte, so as long as the system held off until we were in the air, we thought we’d be okay.

Then, Friday morning, you woke up with a high fever.  It’s influenza season, and although you got immunized in the fall, one of Miles’s good friends and his whole family came down with Influenza A.  They had also gotten flu shots, and that particular friend was one who had recently come to Miles’s birthday party at the trampoline park, which you also attended.  My heart dropped and I said a pretty serious swear word when I saw the number on the thermometer.  I immediately dosed you with ibuprofen, got Miles ready and off to school with your dad, and began researching American Airlines ticket change policies.  Our park tickets had flexible dates, but I had no idea what to do about the plane tickets, the hotel, the Blue Man Group tickets…could I leave you home with your dad and just take Miles?  After all, it was his birthday and it seemed unfair to take the trip away from him.  But I knew you would be devastated if you couldn’t go, even with the promise of a rescheduled trip.  Would it help if we all waited and went together?

Photo by Denny

As soon as your dad got home from taking Miles to school, he took you to the doctor.  You got the influenza test, which is a swab up the nose.  I had it done once, and it creates a very bizarre, somewhat painful sensation.  I was texting your dad for updates, and he told me that the test was complete and you needed to wait ten minutes for results.  I think my heart beat about forty thousand times in those ten minutes, but when I received his text that said, “Negative for influenza,” I almost cried with relief.

Your fever was already way down (in fact, I think our thermometer may have been giving falsely high readings), and the doctor said influenza doesn’t usually respond to analgesics.  By the time you got home from the clinic, you were cheerful and hungry for the bagel your dad picked up for you.  I told you that we’d keep an eye on your health, but the trip was no longer totally out of the question.

You rallied, my brave little pup.  With a combination of ibuprofen, Tylenol, rest, and fluids, you were ready to rock and roll the next morning.  Our flight remained on schedule, and we arrived in Orlando that night.

Even a bit under the weather, you were so energetic.  Aunt Suzy said your energy levels reminded her of the crazy dotted paths the kids in the Family Circus take.  When I saw this display in the comics area of Universal Islands of Adventure, it seemed like the perfect photo op for you.  You wore your Hufflepuff robe with pride, and you were so happy that you qualified for all the rides.  The minimum height for the scariest ride in Hogsmeade, Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, is 48 inches.  At home we measured you at 49 inches, but by the height-stick standard at the park, you were just a touch over 48.  In any case, you qualified.  We were all getting a little psyched out as we waited in the long line.  Several times along the way, they had posted signs that listed all the people who shouldn’t go on the ride:  people with back or neck conditions, pregnant women, people who have recently had surgery (“Because you wouldn’t want your intestines flying out,” you observed), people with claustrophobia, people who are prone to motion sickness (those last two had Mubby concerned), and probably several more caveats I can’t remember.  By the time we got to the end of the line, we’d almost talked ourselves out of going on it.

But go on it we did, the whole group of us, and it was totally worth it.  It was a truly amazing spectacle, and while there were some intense moments, it was more exciting than scary.  I did squeeze your leg a few times to check on you, but you were loving it.  You wanted to get in line again immediately, but we decided to have lunch instead.  You, Miles, Suzy and I did go back later for a second ride, which we agreed was even more than the first time.

The rest of the trip was similarly fun and crazy.  We were racing around from place to place, trying to make it to the Blue Man Group performance and later to the bus that would take us back to the hotel.  The whole adventure, including the dicey weather that threatened our trip home, was a series of “Will it work out?” moments of terror.  Every time, though, we prevailed.  It must have been a spell you cast with your wand.

Photo by Denny

The last week has been so action-packed that it’s hard to remember what else happened this month, but we did enjoy our family and extended-family Christmas celebrations.  You had lots of fun playing Skitter’s cornet, and he even let you bring it home so you could play it in the talent show at the New Year’s Eve party we attended.  You did great renditions of “Hot Crossed Buns” and “Jingle Bells.”

You only had one day of school this week due to inclement weather, and your energy levels can be a little hard for me to handle when we spend so much time indoors together.  When I’m tired or overwhelmed, all I want is to be alone somewhere quiet.  I feel like this is a pretty common and reasonable response to stress and overstimulation.  You have the complete opposite response.  For some reason, you get wired and extra wiggly and talkative when you’re tired, which can be a lot for the others around you to handle.  Your dad is going out of town this weekend, so we’re going to have even more time together.  Fortunately we have some good activities planned. so I hope you can use your energy productively.

Last night you had your first basketball practice of the season, and when you got home, you didn’t feel like you’d gotten a good enough workout, so you ran on the treadmill.  Only you, Tobin.  Too bad the treadmill forces you to run in place rather than in a crazy dotted line all over the neighborhood.

Even though you make me so, so tired, I still love you a lot.  I’m really happy that you felt well enough to go on our great adventure and that none of the potential disasters actually happened.  I don’t know that I  believe in luck, but the only times in my life I’ve ever found four-leaf clovers have been with you.

I’m just saying is all.

Love,

Mommy

Happy birthday, Callum!

I brought you with me to a brief meeting a few days ago, and we mentioned to the person in charge that it was almost your birthday.  When she heard you were going to be four, she lit up and talked about how four was her very favorite age and that she wished her kids could have stayed four forever.  I smiled and nodded.

Your dad has another opinion on the topic of four-year-olds.  As your birthday approached, he was doing a lot of sighing and remembering challenging times with your brothers.  He cited a memory of physically carrying a four-year-old Miles home from the playground, kicking and screaming and snot-flowing (Miles, I assume).  I remember him bemoaning four-year-old Tobin’s turn toward willfulness and rudeness (“He used to be so sweet,” your dad said).  I remember worrying that Miles would never have any friends because he was so unpleasant sometimes.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Well, the good news is that Miles has friends and Tobin is often sweet.  The good news is that phases end and nobody is four forever.  The bad news is that already, not even a week into your fourth year, your dad has already had to drag you, kicking and screaming and snot-flowing, home from the playground.

Four is certainly a time of change for a little person.  I’m not sure what kind of developments are happening in your brain, but they’re major.  It’s a time of great limits-testing, when you deliberately disobey to find out what will happen.  I guess you’re a mini-scientist, creating hypotheses and running experiments to find out how they’ll turn out.  Here’s a data point for your set, dude:  I may be a pretty lenient parent overall.  I don’t yell very much and I’m pretty sympathetic to your complaints.  But when I make a threat, it’s not empty.  You get two “nice asks,” and if you can’t get it together, consequences follow.  A bath ends immediately if you don’t heed my warning to keep all the water inside the tub.  Screen time ends if you can’t keep your drink away from the computer.

One of our biggest challenges right now is that you are very, very clingy to me.  Last night you threw a huge tantrum because I wanted your dad to take you with him to Tobin’s taekwondo class.  Thursday is a very busy day for me, and I really needed a break.  You were NOT into it.  You couldn’t handle the idea of not being right next to me every second.  Your dad and I held firm, though, and off to taekwondo you went.  You survived, though you weren’t very cheerful.  Your brothers and I are going on a trip next week for a few days, and while part of me is fretting about how you’ll handle it, I’m not going to let it spoil our trip.  You will be with your dad and Skitter, both of whom love you and are very capable of meeting your needs.

Lest this get too negative, I should point out some of the cool things you’ve been doing lately.  You had a blast at Tot Time the other day, riding trikes and jumping in the bouncy house.  You love to identify gas stations as we drive past them (“Stop talking!  It’s Kum & Go!”).  I think your favorite birthday present was a custom L&M Mighty Shop (a local gas station and convenience store) water cup that I made for you.  You love anything in a spray bottle.  On a recent trip to Hy-Vee, we only needed a few things, so I let you walk free rather than trapping you in a cart.  As we finished up our shopping and headed toward the check-out, you diverted us down an aisle other than the one I planned to use.  It only took a few steps for me to see why you chose that one:  it was where they shelve the laundry spray.

Photo by Denny

You share your brothers’ obsession with Nerf Blasters, which is not my favorite of your hobbies.  You also enjoy reading stories (especially Peppa Pig and Little Critter), cuddling your stuffed animals, and running any kind of errand with me.  The whole Christmas and birthday season got you really excited about wrapping and unwrapping presents.  Combined with your love of scissors and tape, the wrapping process is one of your new favorite hobbies.  You’ve been wrapping household items, like blocks and decks of cards, and saying they’re presents for you.

We have fun during our days together.  We spend a lot of time cuddled up, playing with your stuffed animals and reading.  The unseasonably warm days we’ve had lately have let us go outside more than usual, and you’ve done some major spraying of Silly String (your number one Christmas and birthday request).  Our polling place is near a really cool playground, and the last couple of times I’ve brought you with me to vote, we’ve extended the adventure into some playground time. I take you almost everywhere I go, which I suppose is where you got your expectation that by my side is your rightful place at all times.

Your current favorites:  pepperoni pizza; weird YouTube videos; your stuffed animals Georgie, Eddie, and Penguie (Pen-gwee?); spraying anything that will spray; long baths; torturing your brothers; and seeking your brothers’ attention and approval in ways that are sometimes constructive and sometimes not.

You’re a handful, my little boy.  You wear me out, but I love your crooked smile and warm, cuddly little body.  I love doing all the things we do together, and since you are most definitely my last baby, I even secretly like how attached you are to me.  I don’t like it all the time, but in a chaotic world, it feels good to be able to solve at least one person’s problems.

May your problems always be so small that leaping into my arms helps.  I may not always be able to lift you, but I’ll always try.

Love,

Mommy

D: Is your name Cal-exander Hamilton?
C: No. Is your name Alexander Hamil-Daddy?

Happy birthday, my dear Miles.

When I posted your happy birthday picture on Facebook a couple of days ago, on your true birthday, I stopped to think of a handful of adjectives to use to describe you.  One that came to mind was brave.  You’ve done all kinds of brave things lately.  Today after school is your first session with the sixth grade band (more on that shortly), and you’ve expressed nothing but excitement about that.  You stood up in front of a big group at a New Year’s Eve party and did a solo musical performance.  You’ve become confident and ready to handle all kinds of obstacles.

Photo by Denny

I just picked you up from your first sixth grade band rehearsal.  You were one of only two fifth graders invited to join the sixth grade band this semester from the entire east side (probably ten elementary schools).  Apparently the sixth grade band was short on low brass, and your teacher knew you were just the trombonist to fill the gap.  You’ve been excited about it ever since you found out, and it was the first thing you mentioned over breakfast this morning.  You were cheerful when I picked you up today, and you seem to have made friends with the other fifth grader (a euphonium player named Chris).

If I were in your position, I might have felt more nervous than excited, and I might have seriously considered declining the opportunity out of anxiety.  That’s why I’m so proud of your bravery, Miles.  I talked to you ahead of time about how the music would be more challenging, and if you couldn’t do it right away you shouldn’t consider that a failure.  I asked you in the car today if the music was hard, and you said yes.  “But I handled it,” you added.

This makes me so happy, since you were such a timid and fearful little boy.  In some ways that was nice, since you were risk-averse and I didn’t have to worry about you jumping off jungle gyms or other foolishness (unlike certain people who live at our house).  But I’m very glad that you’re becoming brave in ways unlikely to result in broken bones.

Possibly contradicting that pattern, you’re having a mini birthday party this Friday at the newly-opened trampoline park in town.  You’ve invited a couple of your good friends to come jump with you, and you’re really looking forward to it.  You’ve graciously agreed to include Tobin as well.  You’ve generally been pretty gracious with both your brothers lately.  It seems like you’re not usually involved in the fights I have to break up.  Most of the screaming I hear is not in your particular timbre.

Photo by Denny

This morning as you got ready for school, we did an assessment of your weekly music schedule.  Sunday you have Family Folk Machine, Monday is fifth grade band, Tuesday is Orff Club, Wednesday is sixth grade band and (starting next week) Mighty Hawk Singers, Thursday is piano lessons, and Friday is in-school trombone lesson.  Saturday is your only day without an organized music activity, so we decided we ought to have a family jam session on Saturdays.  It seems you’ve found your niche.

Of course you still enjoy your other favorites, reading and writing.  For your birthday, I got you a collection of The Far Side comics.  I think you’ll enjoy their slightly complex and irreverent style.  Also it’s one of those long-running comics with many collections available, which is good for gift-giving.

Your current favorites:  cherry candy canes, filming and editing YouTube videos, the long and complicated comics you write and draw, singing under your breath as you complete daily tasks, apple juice and Goldfish crackers (which would be both your breakfast and bedtime snack every day if we didn’t demand a little diversification, and chocolate birthday cake.

In just over a week, we’ll celebrate your birthday in a big way:  a trip to Universal Studios Orlando, with the primary goal of visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  Ever since we started reading the books (first aloud, then you took over and read them on your own) and watching the movies, I looked forward to your eleventh birthday.  Since Harry Potter’s eleventh birthday was when he got his initial acceptance letter to Hogwart’s, it seemed like the right time to make the pilgrimage.  I need to sew up a couple of holes in your Harry Potter robe, which is de rigeur park wear, because it’s gotten a little tattered since Aunt Suzy first bought it for you.  A fellow Potter-head, Aunt Suzy will be joining us, as will Mubby and Tobin.  I’m really excited to do something so special with you to celebrate not just this birthday, but to culminate years of reading and movie-watching and months of planning.

I’m so proud of you, Miles, and I know eleven is going to be a good year.  You’re not going to be my sweet little boy forever, but I’ll keep you while I can.  In the meantime, I’m collecting plenty of evidence.

Love,

Mom