Dear Tobin,

Second grade has begun, and you’re doing just as well as I could have predicted.  Even though none of your close friends ended up being in your class, you’ve already assembled some new ones, and I think you still spend a lot of recess time with your old best buddies.  You seem to be doing well with your scholastic achievements, and you think you have the best teacher ever.  You already have big plans for the candy bar you are going to earn for writing all the numbers up to 1000.

It’s homecoming week in Iowa City, which means it’s Spirit Week at school.  For Crazy Day, kids were encouraged to have crazy hairstyles, crazy clothes, crazy socks, or any other unusual personal styling.  You chose to have me straighten your hair, because in the context of Tobin, that is a pretty crazy look.  You do look completely different without your signature curls.  I was glad to see that they had returned mostly to normal by the end of the school day.

It’s been very fun and sweet seeing you at the same school as Callum.  You are always so excited to greet him when we meet up at the end of the school day, and his teacher mentioned what a good brother you are.  At a recent assembly, you found a spot next to him and really cared for him.  One of your new best friends in school is the older brother of one of Callum’s classmates, and she said the four of you were a really great little team.  You guys squabble plenty on evenings and weekends, but it’s very reassuring to know that out in the world, you’ve got his back.

Our other fall habits are underway, including our annual trip out to Wilson’s Orchard.  You’re a kid who really enjoys ritual, both large and small.  You’re already talking about our spring trip to the Florida Keys (a large and expensive family tradition), but you’re just as attached to small things like family cocktail hour and bagel dates with your dad.  You recently took an interest in farther-than-our-neighborhood bike rides, so you guys biked downtown once for a trip to Bruegger’s.

You’ve gotten back to taekwondo and piano lessons after a summer break, and you seem to have readjusted to those with no problem.  I think you’re definitely on a development spurt, though.  You’ve been having nightmares or night terrors now and then in recent weeks.  They always happen just an hour or two after you fall asleep, and you’ve even gotten out of bed and started running down the hallway, freaking out all the way.  One time you seemed very sure that you were in danger in your room, and as I tried to calm you down, you kept pulling on my arm to follow you out of your room.  I asked where you were going, and you said, very vehemently, “It doesn’t matter!”  All that mattered to you was to get out of that room.

We’ve talked a lot about how you’re safe and your dad and I will take care of you, and it seemed like it had been helping to bring you with me as I double-check all the locks before you go to sleep.  It didn’t help last night, though.  My guess is that you’re growing and learning a lot right now, and your brain is just having a hard time processing all the changes that are happening within it.  You always tell me in the morning that you don’t remember it, which I guess is good, but it’s made for some frightening nights.  It’s hard for me to get back to sleep when I’m still quivering from the adrenaline rush of being awakened from a dead sleep by my child screaming.

I certainly hope you get over this stage soon.  You’ve always been very empathetic.  Last night Callum was misbehaving and your dad and I both raised our voices at him.  He was predictably upset, but what was more surprising was that you burst into tears too.  “I don’t like it when people get angry!” you said.  You weren’t even the one in trouble.  You’re just so sensitive to discord.  I hope that’s not what triggered your tough night.  I thought we were all back to baseline by bedtime, but things like that do get into a kid’s brain, I imagine.  We don’t raise our voices very much around here, I guess because I always end up feeling just as bad as the person I yelled at.  Maybe you and I have the same heart.

Your current favorites:  Cheerios and milk, listening to audiobooks on the iPad (especially the Spy School series), climbing walls, pepperoni pizza, and generally being hilarious.  As I look back over what I’ve written, it seems more negative than your life really is.  In fact, you are generally a very happy and well-adjusted kid.  As long as we can get through the nights, your days are very bright.

I love you, my wacky wall-walker.  You push boundaries in every way, and living with you is never dull.  Keep your heart sweet and try not to fall off anything very tall.

Love,

Mommy

We had pancakes for dinner, and Miles and Tobin were being predictably rude and silly. Callum does not like to be left out of such shenanigans.

Callum: Hey, that rhymes!
Aprille: What rhymes?
Callum: Pancake and butt.

I was trying to entice Callum out of bed this morning by offering him various tasty breakfast options.

A: So which one do you want?
C: I think we should cuddle because you love me so much.

Dear Callum,

You’re a preschooler now.  It’s a big step up from being a “homer,” as Miles called you.  I was a little worried about how you’d do—it was your first time in any school or childcare environment.  I couldn’t think of a time in your entire life when you’d been completely without a family member.  Even when we’ve had babysitters in the past, you’ve always had at least one brother with you.  Really, I was pleased with how well you did.  You were a tiny bit reluctant to go in the first day, and I was afraid you’d be one of the criers at drop-off time, but you weren’t.

Your teachers seem wonderful, so that’s made a big difference.  One great thing they did was a home visit the week before school started.  You had a lot of fun playing with Ms. Dee, one of your assistant teachers, while your dad and I talked to your lead teacher.  When the first day of school came around, Ms. Dee saw you approaching and hurried right up to you and gave you a big hug.  You’re not a big hugger of strangers, typically, but you remembered her.  I doubt you would have run up and hugged her of your own volition, but her warmth was overwhelming, and you were soon ready to jump right in.

I get daily reports of your areas of activity, and you seem to mostly favor the Dramatic Play and Blocks & Cars centers.  You’ve also gotten interested in the Science center lately.  Your teacher also mentioned at drop-off the other day that you’ve been playing well with your classmates.  I bet it’s new and interesting for you to play with other kids your age.  Outside of school, you usually play with your big brothers or park friends, most of whom are a bit younger than you.

You also started swimming lessons last night.  Because it is my duty to fret, I was fretting that adding that in would be too many new things at once in your world.  But really, the timing seems pretty good.  You’ve gotten the hang of being more than four feet away from a family member, so getting into the pool with a teacher was no big deal.  I didn’t go to your swimming lesson—it conflicted with Back to School Night, so Miles and I went up to school while you and Tobin and your dad did activities at the Rec Center.  Tobin has taekwondo on the same night, so it’s handy in that respect, but it does make for a busy evening.

Miles was interested in exploring your classroom and learning about what you do during the day.  We tried out the light board in the science center, and your teacher was interested to hear about the science experiment you and Miles did together the other day (the magic of vinegar and baking soda).  I think she can tell that you have a team of people who will always have your back.

You are usually pretty honest about your feelings.  When the dentist asked you if you were excited about preschool, you said, “Not really.”  That was before you started, though, and your fear of the unknown has shifted into enjoyment.  You’re also good at articulating the specifics of your displeasure.  You tipped a dining room chair backward recently.  I was able to catch it well enough to slow but not completely stop its descent, so it wasn’t clear whether your tears were from an injury or just emotional turmoil.  When I asked you, “Are you hurt or just scared?” you could explain to me that you were just scared.  That really helps focus my triage efforts.

The various scrapes of playground life (and your incessant need to run, even downhill, even on sidewalks littered with roly-poly acorns) have given you some interesting scabs.  You can’t seem to stop knocking them off, whether by accident or by picking.  We’ve gone through a lot of Band-Aids lately.  A knocked-off scab bleeds a lot, which is more visually than physically upsetting, but your ability to identify the source of your tumult comes in handy for that situation too.  Language development is such a powerful thing in so many ways, and I really appreciate how I’m getting a better understanding of your inner world.

I’ve been enjoying our mornings and Thursdays together.  It’s nice to ease into school with a part-time program that still allows us a good amount of Mommy/Callum time.  One of your favorite things is doing a baking project together, which we do now and then as a special morning treat.  On the very first day of school, you requested chocolate cake.  You woke up early enough that day that it was a feasible request, and we happened to have just enough ingredients for a one-layer version of Grammy’s special chocolate cake recipe.  It’s not the breakfast you usually have, but it was a nice way to spend some time together doing an activity before you headed off.

Your current favorites:  Nature Cat (a PBS Kids show), Minecraft (emulating Miles, of course), pepperoni pizza, steak (both to eat and to play with in the preschool play kitchen), being outside, and sleeping in.  This can make for some frustrating nights when your big brothers have to go to bed early in preparation for school the next day and you’re still flopping around like a fish in the bottom bunk.  Once you get to sleep, though, you’ve been sleeping well lately.  In fact, I should go wake you up now, because it’s almost 9:30.

I hope preschool continues to go as well as it has been, my little sweetheart.  You’re becoming such a big boy, I can hardly stand it.  I’m so proud of how well you’re handling the new challenges you’re facing.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Miles,

I was talking to the mom of one of your sixth-grade classmates, and she mentioned a similar phenomenon to one I’ve noticed with you:  the back-in hug.  You’re at a life stage where it’s normal for you to be less attached to me, to seek independence and think mom-hugs are lame.  Still, mom-hugs are important (for both of us), and it’s become almost a game.  I find any excuse I can to hug you–“helping” you keep your balance when you are not really in danger of falling, making adjustments to your hair or clothes, or just a casual arm-drape.  You act like you don’t like it but also don’t hurry away.  It’s a compromise we can both accept.  Now and then you even back into a hug as if by accident.

Photo by Gary Clarke

The summer finished up nicely.  You spent time at Mubby and Skitter’s, complete with the exhaustive (exhausting) list of activities Mubby generously coordinates.  I loved seeing the frequent updates she sent of your adventures.  We finished out the summer with some Planet 3 trampoline-jumping time, outside play time, screen time, and general chilling out.

You moaned and groaned about school starting, but now that you’ve gotten into the groove, you seen happy.  You like your teacher, and even though you didn’t end up grouped with your closest friends, it seems like you get along well with your classmates.  The year is starting to get even busier, as Let Me Run and band will be starting soon.  We’ve already gotten going on piano lessons again, which means our regular trips to Dairy Queen have also resumed.  For a kid who is still a super-picky eater, you have sampled a very wide variety of Dairy Queen items.  I think the s’mores Blizzard may be your favorite.

We  engaged in our (and everybody else in the Iowa City metro area’s) fall tradition of going apple picking at Wilson’s Orchard.  We used to go on a weeknight until we discovered that they only make their fresh apple cider doughnuts on weekends, and we decided they’re worth braving the crowds.  This has been my all-time worst year for garden tomatoes, so it’s nice to feel a little agricultural and pick fruit from a tree for family consumption.  You’ve voluntarily eaten several pieces of fruit, too, so that’s a win.

All the good care you took of Callum this summer, both through formal babysitting situations and times when I just to be on a different floor of the house, earned you your new (used) trombone.  We found a reasonably good deal on one that has a reputation of holding its usefulness for a long time, and you’re looking forward to using it in sixth-grade band.  I think you’ll also have a chance to play in the Family Folk Machine horn section, which is exciting for you.  You were the only member of the horn section younger than high-school aged, which is a pretty cool achievement.  You frequently impress me with your tone and motivation in your playing.  Maybe soon your arms will be long enough to play that elusive B-natural.

Your current favorites:  pasta, Minecraft, reading, riddles, sighing dramatically when asked to do the smallest of chores, but overall being a sweet guy.  Most importantly, you’re a good brother.

I know I can’t expect you to stay a cuddly baby forever, but I also know that you have a kind heart and that your irascible preteen and teen years won’t completely obliterate it.  I might have to look a little harder to find your tender moments, but you bet your trombone I won’t stop trying.

Love,

Mom