Dear Callum,

You are a super-cool preschooler.  After only a tiny bit of nervousness at the start of the school year, you’ve settled right in.  Every school day, you’re cheerful about going, and you never cry or cling to me when it’s time to go inside with your friends.  It’s been a huge help that your teachers are kind, warm, and fun.  That has not been the case for every preschool teacher we’ve known—why anyone who doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of little kids would go into the field of preschool is beyond my understanding—but you’ve got a great team.  When I picked you up from school yesterday, I scooped you up into our usual post-school hold-hug, and because it was chilly, I didn’t put you down right away.  We saw one of your teachers, and you said, “Have a great weekend, Ms. Dee!”  She came right up to you and said, “You have a great weekend too, sweetheart.  I love you.”  She squeezed your face with affection.

I have the impression that she feels that way about all her students, and that’s  exactly what I want for every little kid in the world:  at least one person who finds true joy in them.

Best of all, you’ve seen your brothers around school and on the playground, and that’s a very special treat.  Additionally, the sixth-graders in Student Council have been doing buddy playtime with you.  Miles declined to sign up for Student Council, but several of his friends did, and you’re so proud and excited to get attention from them.  The other day after school you told me, “Some big kids played with us, and one of them was Esmé!”  Esmé is someone we’ve known a long time, and when I saw her later, I told her about what you’d said.  Her huge smile showed that she was excited about it too.

While school has been going great, you’ve been presenting some challenges at home.  I know it’s a normal stage of development:  when kids go to school, they understand that the pressure is on to use good behavior.  That can be tiring for a little brain and body, and at home, they feel safe enough to let loose.  We’ve been having problems with your listening and cooperation around the house.  Our usual policy is that you and your brothers get two “nice asks,” after which your dad and I start getting frustrated and resort to less polite communication styles.

I don’t know why you (and to a lesser extent, your brothers) haven’t figured out that pattern yet.  We’re very explicit about it.  Yet, for some reason, you burn through your two nice asks every time we ask you to do something simple like put away toys or go to the bathroom for teeth brushing.  Then we get less patient and raise our voices, and you burst into tears like we’ve impaled your Curious George toy on a spike.  I don’t get it.  I guess childhood is a time of learning how to function in a society and within a family, and I can’t expect you to have mastered it by the age of four.  I hope it sinks in before you’re thirty.

Your report from your swimming teacher said that you’re a great listener.  Maybe we need to start making our requests underwater.

We’ve had our usual flurry of events and activities this fall, including your first round of swimming lessons.  I wouldn’t call you a master swimmer yet, but you did put your face in the water.  We should probably get you into another session before our trip to the Florida Keys this spring.  That will offer plenty of beach and pool time, and while of course we will be with you the whole time, it would be nice if your swimming skills were a little stronger.

We’ve got other big changes coming soon, too.  We’ll be embarking on a home remodeling project that will make our house uninhabitable for an unspecified period of time.  I think most of the internal work won’t start till spring, but some external work will begin yet this fall.  Some friends are going to be away from the end of November through most of the summer, and they graciously offered us the use of their house in exchange for basic home-and-sidewalk maintenance.  It will be your first time spending longer than a vacation’s length of time away from our house, so I’ll be interested to see how you handle it.  We haven’t sussed out the sleeping arrangements yet, but something tells me you won’t want to be away from your brothers.

Your current favorites:  cinnamon toast cut into rhombuses, frozen yogurt with gummy worms (weird combination, but you like it), using the play kitchen and science centers at school, co-opting your brothers’ clothes and accessories, doing a strange grimace that you claim is a smile when I ask you to smile for a picture (see below), iPad and Wii U games, the book Big Pumpkin at bedtime, and listening to your brothers read stories to you any time of day.

You’re a sweet and cuddly little guy, Callum, and I’m really cherishing this last year I have with you before you go to school full-time.  You can be challenging, frustrating, funny, and thought-provoking.  You give really good hugs.

Love,

Mommy