Dear Tobin,

Nobody in this house is more excited about Christmas than you. You spearheaded an effort to do an online version of the brothers’ gift exchange, which we usually do as an outing to store. Typically, you and your brothers wander around a local store (the Hobby Corner and the Haunted Bookshop are two of our favorites) and give each other ideas of things you’d like. Then I have a conference with each of you about what you want to get for your assigned brother, you all go elsewhere, and I sneakily make purchases on your behalf. In-person shopping is a no-go this year, though we’ve still been trying to support local businesses that offer online order and curbside pickup. I was planning to just skip the brothers’ gift exchange, but you would not suffer that idea. You also helped wrap the gift you chose for Miles, spurred him and Callum to wrap the gifts they picked out for their assigned brothers, and helped organize them under the tree. This Christmas had the potential to be a little sad and weird, and it will be to some extent, because we won’t have nearly the extended family time we typically enjoy. But you are doing your absolute best to spread your enthusiasm widely and thoroughly. It’s a very Tobin move and one I appreciate a lot.

We’re past the first trimester of your all-online school year, which means conferences, and I couldn’t be prouder of your teacher’s report. She sends weekly updates with information about the schoolwork you’ve been doing, so I knew you were keeping up fine with your tasks, but I was also pleased to hear that you’re a kind and active participant in class, too. I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise, because not participating has never been a problem for you. The on-screen element adds a level of complication, but she said you do well not interrupting and engaging in fruitful conversation. That is not always the case at the dinner table, but overall you and your brothers have gotten along well. Our new space helps. You’ve mostly taken over the new downstairs room that your dad imagined as his office, but he’s doing okay for the time being in the guest room. You both keep making noises about trading places, but it hasn’t happened yet, and I wonder a little how smart it is to put you in a room with a big bed—not because you’d crawl in and go to sleep, but more that it might turn into an improvised trampoline.

We have a family tradition of going out for lunch to HuHot after conferences, and that is obviously not an option this year. They do offer take-out, but it’s a good 25-minute drive from our house, and nobody wants noodles that have been sitting in the car for that long. Instead, you suggested that we make our family favorite New York Times chocolate chip cookies to celebrate. Your original plan was that we’d put a couple in the freezer to save for Santa, but they ended up being too delicious. I figured we’d have enough for Santa with our gingerbread scraps (a gingerbread house project yielded a lot of unusable material) and the almond-pistachio cookies I made recently. But you insisted that Santa really needs chocolate chip cookies, and your dad didn’t argue against the idea, so I made a half-batch yesterday after dinner. Then, our friends kindly surprised us by dropping off a plate of assorted treats, so we’re pretty much swimming in goodies.

Oh well. 2020 has been tough. Cookies help.

You’ve been working off some of those cookies and some of your ever-present energy by doing Zoom taekwondo. You moan and groan about it a little before the class starts, because, true to Tobin form, your favorite part of in-person taekwondo was hanging out with friends. You can chat with people a little before class or during your break, but it’s just not the same. Still, you always come back upstairs after class in a great mood. The endorphin rush is real, and you’re such an active person that it’s very good for you to have an outlet. I still can’t think of a time you sat in your chair at the dinner table through an entire meal, but at least you’re happy as you’re busting out dance moves in the space between the table and the wall.

Your hair, which has been fluffy since it first sprouted, was getting really enormous. You agreed to a back-and-sides trim on the condition that I keep the top floppy. I think you look cute, and you seem happy with the look. We didn’t do that until after I took your fake school pictures, so your vast expanse of hair will be immortalized on our mantle for at least the next year.

Your current favorites: pepperoni pizza (always and forever), organizing events like family movie nights and cookie-baking sessions, playing video games with Miles when he’ll let you, listening to audio books (your current favorite is The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger), watching The Mandalorian and van-life YouTube channels with your dad before bed, and planning your 11-year-old trip for the future when we can travel again. Your current short list includes Spain, Italy, France, and Orlando for a return to Universal Studios. I have my preferences within your list, but honestly, anything with you is going to be a blast. If we travel out of the country, you’ll need a new passport. We got your first one when you were a baby, and even though a person isn’t supposed to smile in a passport photo, we couldn’t manage to get a picture of you when you weren’t smiling.

It could happen again. You are my sparkling sunshine, sweet Tobin, and I love you so much. Thank you for the twinkle you bring to this season and every season.

Love,

Mom