Dear Tobin,

You are a person who really connects with other people. I have a friend who has a son close to your age, and she invited us to his outdoor birthday party this weekend. You’ve never met the kid, but when I told you they were renting an ice cream truck, you were all about it. You said, “It’s always a little awkward to go to a party for your parent’s friend, but hey, I can handle it.” I admire that about you so much. In your shoes, I would have said no way. I’m nervous around strangers and never feel confident in social situations unless it’s with friends I know well. But you are so natural and ready to jump into anything.

Likewise, you’re kind and thoughtful. You and Callum torture each other a fair amount, but today he was sick, and you were so worried about him. You checked on him many times and told me how concerned you were about him. It’s strange to have a sick kid—we’ve been so careful about safety precautions ever since COVID came on the scene that we haven’t even had colds. Callum ended up with some kind of stomach bug, possibly from his bad habit of putting his hands all over the kitchen floor somewhere between washing up for dinner and eating dinner. He seems to be getting better now, which I know will be a relief to you.

You’re always ready to help with projects. Skitter came and helped us build an electric fence, and you did a good job pitching in on post-driving and leveling. The electric fence is complete now, and though I have been too nervous to touch it to find out if it’s working, it seems like it probably is. We’ve had tons of rain lately, and it was muddy work. It’s also prime gnat season in our creekside neighborhood, but you were brave and tenacious. Your dad had the idea that you should do some kind of summer job or apprenticeship with the contractor who coordinated our home addition. This summer probably isn’t the right time, but I can see you being good at that. The trick for you would be finding the discipline to actually get work done rather than sitting around chatting with the crew all day.

You also helped out with a recent music project. We had a Family Folk Machine open mic event, and I was scraping together some inspiration from sounds I could make with household objects. As I was working in the kitchen, you came in. My first reaction was to put aside my own work and see what I could do to help you (it would probably be snack-related). Instead, since I didn’t have a clear vision for what I was doing anyway, I decided to pull you into it. You drove a remote-control car around the kitchen in a rhythmic fashion, clicked your Rubik’s Cube to the beat, and spun around in circles. In the end, it might not be the greatest work of art ever made, but it was fun to do. I also like the idea of thinking of my kids as part of my creative process, not an obstacle to it. Some tasks require privacy and focus, but some of them benefit from the enthusiasm of a curly-headed Rubik’s Cube clicker.

I’ve noticed lately that you seem to have grown and matured a lot in recent months. Mubby mentioned it too. It will be interesting to see how all your classmates have changed over the year-plus that it’s been since I’ve seen them. Nine has been a big year for you, and it’s nearly unfathomable that you’ll turn ten around the time school starts in the fall.

Speaking of school starting, we’re once again in a conundrum. We’d planned for you to attend school in person in the fall, under the assumption that the school district’s mask mandate would be a reasonable safety precaution until you can get vaccinated, which will probably begin in September or October. Now, with all local mandates struck down by the Governor, I’m not so confident. The school district will be offering online education again next year, with the potential to switch to in-person after the first trimester. I am hoping infection rates continue to drop and we’re able to feel confident sending you and Callum to school in the fall. It would be a big hassle to continue online learning. You really did great at it, and I have to give you a lot of credit, but I know you are longing to get back to your friends. When I mentioned the possibility of online for one trimester, though, you didn’t immediately hate the idea. I appreciate your flexibility and maturity. We’ll keep an eye on things and hopefully come to a solution that addresses your academic, social, and health needs.

We had a weird dinner schedule last night, because Miles was busy with Geek Club, you needed to eat early to make it to taekwondo on time, and Callum wasn’t feeling up to eating. It’s not often that your dad and I share a meal with just you. It was certainly a different dynamic, without the smack-talking that goes on between you and your brothers, but it was still funny. You have a contagious laugh and you find delight in the silliest things, which made for an entertaining meal. With the diminished opportunities to go places and do things, we haven’t been able to do the one-kid outings we used to do. I hope soon we’ll be able to start doing more of them again. That’s one reason I like to invite you out on walks or jogs on weekends, because you’re energetic and are actually a pleasant person with whom to do active pastimes.

On Saturday, you joined me for a walk around the neighborhood, and as we strolled, a four-leaf clover caught my eye. For most of my life, I wasn’t very good at finding them. I often felt frustrated by that fact, since my mom (aka Mubby) had a knack for it, and I was envious. I’ve found more four-leaf clovers in the last nine years than I found in the thirty-odd years before you were born, and nearly every time I find one, you’re with me. In fact, the first one that I specifically remember finding was when I was pregnant with you. Last weekend, as I leaned down to pick the four-leaf clover near our neighbor’s sidewalk, I noticed another. You bent down and looked as well, and between the two of us, we found six four-leaf clovers. You even found one with five leaves. We brought them home and pressed them in my big dictionary, which had previously been used to keep the couch from banging into the wall. No offense to dictionaries—I like them a lot, but it’s much easier to look up words online. In any case, the dictionary still clearly serves a purpose. Some day in my dotage I’ll be looking through my books, open the dictionary, and end up with a lapful of Kleenexes with four-leaf clovers pressed inside. I will think of you, my Tobin, and I’ll smile.

Your current favorites: taekwondo in the park, video chatting with friends, chips and salsa, Starbursts, anime, talking about anime even though no one else in the family knows what you’re talking about, and generally being cheerful. Spring is the perfect time for you, because it’s when you can get out and see friends, run around in circles without knocking over household objects, and dance like a maniac.

You’re a hoot, Tobin, and even if I never find another four-leaf clover again, I’ll still consider myself lucky to have you.

Love,

Mom