Dear Miles,

Now, in the last month of your eleventh year, your dad and I are bracing ourselves for the pre-teen creeping into our lives.  You’ve come to that stage where you’re too cool to care about anything.  I remember being in that stage myself, so I try to be generous about it, but it’s hard to understand now that I have greater perspective.  The thing is, I know you really do care about a lot of things.  You’re just at a point where you either can’t or won’t communicate with your parents about it.  I realize it’s a normal part of establishing your own identity, but it sure can be irritating.  I took you and Tobin to see City High’s production of A Christmas Carol last weekend.  We knew several people in the cast and crew, and you seemed interested in seeing them perform.  At intermission, I asked if you were enjoying it, and you said you were.  On the drive home, you mentioned that you like going to evening performances over matinees because it seems more grown-up and exciting.  Overall, I thought it was a very good experience.  The next day, during family cocktail hour, I asked you and Tobin what your favorite parts of the play were.  Your answer:  “When it ended.”

I think you were just being glib and thought you sounded cool, but it’s very annoying when I spend time and money on something intended to be a fun and enriching experience and you crap all over it.  I don’t think you really meant to be as surly as you sounded, because upon further prodding you admitted that you liked seeing our friends Gabe and Caleigh on stage.  A very important life lesson I’ve learned is when not to go for the first joke I think of.  The cheap and easy laugh is not usually worth much.

You’re not always acerbic, though.  Almost every day I see you being sweet and kind to Callum.  You two have forged a really special friendship.  I’m already dreading the day you move out, not only because of how much I will miss you, but because of how much Callum will.  I keep trying to (mostly jokingly) pressure you into staying local, which you tell me only guarantees that you’ll move away.  We’ll see.  Of course I’ll be happy if you have great dreams that take you to exciting destinations, but I would be equally happy if you stick around and hang out with me forever.

Photo by Gary Clarke

The usual holiday season onslaught has begun.  We’re still in our regular house, and we don’t know for sure when we’ll have to vacate for construction.  For that reason, we haven’t gotten a Christmas tree yet, because we’re not sure which house we should put it in.  That plus how late Thanksgiving fell this year has me all disorganized and disoriented about the season.  We’re trying to go light on physical presents this year, instead focusing on experiences like theater tickets and activities for our spring break trip.  You guys have so much crap you never use already, and the fact that we’ll probably be hauling stuff between multiple houses makes your dad and me even less inclined to accumulate more items.  You still seem to have some attachment to the Christmas morning rituals, though.  I was telling you about what your friend Daniel’s family is doing, skipping presents entirely and doing a family trip to San Diego instead.  I was really emphasizing how cool that is, but you didn’t seem sold on the idea.  It’s weird, because I have a terrible time extracting wishlist ideas from you.  You’re too old for most toys, and you don’t think clothes are very fun, and you get most of your books from the library or on your Kindle.  I hope you enjoy opening boxes with gift cards inside.

Another thing that comes around this time of year every four-to-eight years is multiple opportunities to meet presidential candidates.  You and your dad went to see Pete Buttigieg last weekend, and I think you had a good time.  We saw Elizabeth Warren together earlier in the fall, and if circumstances allow, we might go see Julián Castro tomorrow.  While you don’t always get a very nuanced view of a candidate at these glad-handing rallies, I still think it’s cool that you’re getting so many opportunities to learn and be part of the process.  Even more, I think it’s cool that you’re interested.  Curiosity and openness to learning are two of the most important factors in becoming an informed citizen, and I’m very proud that you’re displaying those qualities.

Your current favorites:  pasta, Minecraft, YouTube videos on the topic of Minecraft, band and choir, sleeping in, and the Halloween candy you’re still hoarding.  You’re right on track to finish it at the moment the Christmas candy appears.  You have a plan in place to make that last until Valentine’s Day.

Enjoy your last month of being eleven, my guy.  You’re a sweet-and-salty mix right now, and I guess that will probably ebb and flow for the foreseeable future.  This morning you let me hug you for a long time, and I’ll be thinking about that all day.  I’ll definitely need to remind myself of that extended hug the next time you mutter a rude comment under your breath or act like it’s outrageous for your dad or me to tell you to stop screen time.  Transitions are hard on everybody, and it’s my job to keep loving you through them.  It’s also my pleasure.  Sometimes it’s my pleasure from a different room in the house.

Love,

Mom