Dear Tobin,

It’s funny to write this when I haven’t seen you in almost a week. You’ve been at Mubby and Skitter’s house, and even though we’ve FaceTimed twice most days, I still don’t feel quite right without you. I know you’re having lots of fun. I’ve enjoyed updates about your adventures fishing, mini-golfing, swimming, trapping raccoons, eating lots of treats, and playing poker. Still, the house is just too quiet without you here. I notice it especially at the dinner table. I feel the quiet and find myself assessing my emotions. Is it quiet because I’m sad about something? No, not really. I’m just accustomed to your joyful banter filling up so much of the sound at dinner that without you, everything feels a few degrees too mellow.

I don’t know if you’ll ever have the experience of being an only child. Maybe after Miles goes to college, Callum will find somewhere else to be for a while and you’ll get to live that life. Really, though, you thrive around other kids. You’re so social and energetic, I don’t know if your dad and I could keep up with you.

This summer you got your first paying job. While some friends of ours were on vacation, you took care of the cats and fish, as well as watering their plants and bringing in the mail. You took your responsibility very seriously, never complaining (except a little bit about the cat litter), and doing a very conscientious job. George the cat is your new favorite animal friend. I’m sure you would have been just as friendly to Party, but she spent most of her time hiding from us.

Your second paying job of the summer is coming up next week, when you will be part of a psychology experiment. Miles did the same experiment several years ago, and you were so jealous. Lucky for you, they want a large number of test subjects, and they’re still accepting new applicants. The test involves being immersed in a virtual reality scenario, a street with cars coming, and you have to decide whether you have time to cross the street safely. You do some of it with me and some of it on your own. I imagine there are other aspects of your (or my?) behavior that they’re studying but don’t specifically explain. You’d probably do it for free, but you were happy to find out there’s a substantial-by-your-standards paycheck involved. I’m not sure how you’re going to spend your summer earnings, but I’m sure you’ll find something.

Despite our Covid precautions, since you’re still unvaccinated, you’ve been able to have a lot of fun this summer. One of your best friends lives in our neighborhood, so you two have been riding bikes and playing in area parks a lot. Sometimes his older sister goes with you and you go a bit farther afield. After your friends treated you to convenience store ice cream, you were excited to return the favor with some of your earnings. Next month will be your birthday, and you’re hoping to have a small, outdoor get-together with a couple of close friends. I’m not sure exactly what you want to do, but I imagine biking and ice cream will be involved.

I know you’re excited to start school in person in the fall, and even though I’m not feeling 100% about the decision, you’re going to go. I hate how I see Covid cases rising among unvaccinated people, thanks to the highly contagious delta variant, and I hate that your school cannot require masks to keep you safer. From what I understand, even after the mask mandate was removed last year, most kids who attended school in person kept wearing masks. I truly hope that remains the case in the fall. My current strategy is to give it a week, and if you don’t have close to full mask-wearing in your classroom, we will look into alternatives. I hate to jerk you around, and I want you to have the full social and developmental experience that school offers. I just also hate to think about the rampant spread of a virus whose long-term consequences we don’t know. I mentioned to your father recently that having three kids is a constant triangle of which kid I’m most worried about, and you and Callum are going to be flip-flopping for first place most of the fall. Some bad news I recently learned is that the vaccine for your age group is probably not going to be approved until winter. I previously thought it would be September or October, so I guess the fretting will have to go on longer than I expected.

While you were gone, your dad and I painted your bedroom, which involved moving almost everything out. We unearthed a lot of treasures, including favorite old books, clothes you’ve outgrown and worn out, and toys covered in a thick layer of dust. I hope the thorough cleaning we did helps with your allergies, too. Until recently, Miles had been sleeping in the top bunk of the bunkbed, and you and Callum had been sharing the double bed in the bottom bunk. Now Miles has a new bed that he’s been happy to sleep in, so you’re the king of the top bunk. Having slept with Callum the last couple of nights while the bunkbed room was dismantled, I can understand why you’re happy with that development. Callum is an extremely wiggly sleeper, and I woke up more than once with his extremities draped over me. I’ve walked in on a similar scene with you two in the morning, so I’m glad you no longer have to deal with that. Actually, we’re going back to Mubby and Skitter’s next week to spend time all together with some more family, and that will probably mean sharing a bed with Callum again. Oops. Sorry.

Your current favorites: pizza, helping out with household projects, riding bikes with your friends, Cheetos (though you’ve decided the flaming hot variety are not worth the stomach aches), books by Stewart Gibbs, online Minecraft dates with a friend cohort you’ve developed this summer, morning bagel runs with your dad, taekwondo in the park, and adding zest to any situation.

I love you so much, Tobin, and I’m counting down the hours until we’re together again.

Love,

Mom

This is my family’s favorite sauce for stir-fry. I saw Kenji Lopez-Alt make his stir-fry sauce, and it was a lot like this one, which made me feel vindicated. I usually make this in a 2-cup liquid measuring cup. All measurements are approximate.

Into the bottom of the measuring cup, mix until dissolved:

• 2 Tbsp cornstarch
• 1/4 cup granulated sugar
• 1/4 cup cold water

Add:

• 1/3 cup soy sauce
• a couple of glugs of oyster sauce (maybe 2-3 tsp)
• a generous squirt of Sriracha or other Asian chili sauce of your choice (optional; adjust to your audience’s spiciness preferences)
• 1 tsp sesame oil

Stir to combine. The oyster sauce usually makes gross little chunks on the bottom, but they dissolve if you let it sit for a while, so it’s cuter if you have time to leave it alone for half an hour or so. That’s optional.

Add:

• Dry white wine (unseasoned rice wine is good, but don’t use cooking wine, as it is too salty. If it’s all you have, cut back on the soy sauce. I usually just use whatever white wine I have around.) Fill the measuring cup up to the 1.5 cup mark.

Stir it all together. Use this as a final step in your stir fry, stirring immediately before adding it to reincorporate ingredients. It should thicken within one minute of cooking. It’s good with lots of different things. It makes a pretty big quantity, because my family is divided on the question of beef and snow peas vs. cashew chicken, so I make both, and this is enough for a batch of each.

Dear Callum,

You’ve had a very outdoorsy month. You’ve started attending a “camp,” which is a playgroup held at our backyard playground. It’s run by our local parks and rec department, and you and other neighborhood kids play games, do crafts, and run around. The first couple of times you went, you didn’t stay too long, but the last couple of days I’ve had to come get you, because the ending time had arrived and the counselors probably wanted to go home. You’re always proud of the crafts you make, even making some especially for me sometimes. Today I could see you playing a lot with another kid. It’s nice for me to be able to look out the window and see you, so I know you’re safe and not miserable, but I’m far enough away that you can be a little bit independent. Those are good skills to develop, since you’ll be heading to school in the fall, and I want you to remember how to make friends.

All your social fun has been outdoors, in the interest of COVID safety, so it’s wonderful that summer has made that more feasible. Earlier this month we packed up a Spider-Man blanket and watched the fireworks. At first I wasn’t sure if we should go, since two years ago it was extremely crowded, but a friend suggested a less-populated area with good viewing. It ended up being really nice, a gorgeous evening with plenty of space between groups. We met up with friends, and aside from the late bedtime that threw off our schedules a bit, it was a great time. You weren’t crazy about the really loud fireworks (neither was I), but mostly you enjoyed them a lot.

We also attended a library program held at a local park. A staffmember from a nearby zoo came and talked about animals. She also displayed a turtle and a snake. You thought they were pretty cool, but honestly, you probably had just as much fun playing on the playground equipment before and after the event. Due to the scheduling of things, you rode with me to pick up Miles from camp he was attending. You kept me entertained by reading the signs on businesses as we passed by. I’m glad you’re keeping up your reading, and you’ve gotten noticeably better at figuring out compound words and other longer words.

Sometimes you won’t let me read your bedtime stories to you, instead insisting that you read them to me. Nana and Papa visited a few weeks ago, and Papa enjoyed having you read to him, too. You and I have been spending time enjoying another common interest: the King’s Quest game series.After completing King’s Quest IV, we moved on to King’s Quest VI. That’s a very text-heavy game, so I mostly read the passages out loud to you, but you do some of the reading on your own. It has some pretty big words, and you handle them very well. You have an excellent memory, too. I should never doubt you when it comes to the details of the game. If you say we need to go to the Isle of the Beast to find the loose brick that we’ll later use to jam the works in the catacombs, but I suspect the brick is on the Isle of Wonder, the smart money’s on the Isle of the Beast.

Your dad has noted that you are showing some signs of stubbornness. You are not someone who is willing to acquiesce to a demand if you don’t see the value in it. I appreciate critical thinking in everyone, and our general philosophy is that you only have to follow rules if they exist for a good reason. However, that viewpoint was intended for things like “boys shouldn’t wear nail polish.” That’s a dumb rule with no logic behind it, so we ignore it. However, when your dad or I says things like, “Don’t mess with the window,” you have a hard time listening. I don’t know if that’s because you want us to explain that we’re still waiting on a screen for that window, so if you open it, flies will get in, which leads to a whole drama with you wanting the fly to be your pet. Your dad and I would prefer for the fly to be squashed or at least escorted outside. All that is so much to explain, and while I don’t want to raise children who are blind followers, I do need you to trust that our rules and requirements are not arbitrary. Sometimes the reason is “you are a kid, I am a parent, I love you, and this is what we need to move forward successfully.” Even that’s a little long. Just don’t mess with the window, okay?

Fortunately, you seem to have moved past your little hoarder stage. I was worried it was going to be a life-long issue, and I would have excavate you from a pile of Capri Sun straws when you’re thirty-five years old. Now, hindered slightly by the fact that our most recent batch of juice pouches had intriguing pink straws, you seem able to let them go. A couple of things you don’t seem ready to part with yet are your two front teeth. A recent dentist appointment revealed they’re loose. Unlike most kids, it seems like you’ll lose your top ones first, though you’re not very interested in wiggling them. With corn on the cob season coming up, we may have some dinner table drama. I’m hoping we get that classic gap-toothed first grade school picture next fall.

Your current favorites: I Ain’t Gonna Paint No More, craft-making, park time, baths, your elaborate bedtime routines (several rounds of the hand gestures for peace, love, and blown kisses with your dad; special rhymes and kisses on you and your stuffed animals with me), the Chex Mix Miles makes, pizza, steak, and YouTube.

Your brothers are going to be with Mubby and Skitter next week, and while I’m a little sad that you don’t feel confident going with them, I’m also looking forward to special time with you. When they’ve done that in the past, we’ve done things like attend kids’ programs at  the library and go to the Children’s Museum, which probably aren’t good choices this year, but I bet we can find something fun to do. I’ve been hankering for a Maquoketa Caves trip, and you might be ready for that.

You’re a sweet pup, my Callum, and I’m glad we’ve done so many fun things. Our lives aren’t completely back to normal, and it will take two doses of Pfizer in you before we get significantly closer, but we’ve still managed to have lots of fun. Summertime with a six-year-old is a great thing, and I’m so glad to share the time with you.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Miles,

It’s been a month of ups and downs. Some days you seem cheerful and engaged, and other days you’ll barely talk to us. It’s not entirely surprising. Ever since you were a little kid, you’ve been disinclined to share your thoughts and feelings about anything serious. Adding the physical and mental challenges that come with teenagerhood only compounds the issue. Even worse, it’s been a year with far fewer than normal opportunities to spend time with friends. You do a lot of online friend hangouts, but there’s nothing that can replace actual human interaction. Fortunately, now that you’re fully vaccinated, we’re getting more formal activities onto your schedule. Before we know it, the summer will be over and you’ll be heading back to school.

I understand the urge toward being a hermit. I lean that way myself. Sometimes I have to force myself to get out and do things because I know it’s good for me in the long-term. As your mom, it’s my job to push you that way until you know yourself well enough to recognize those needs. It’s kind of like exercise. I never truly feel in the mood to go for a run or lift weights, but after I’m done, I always feel better. I also notice a negative impact on my mood when I go a few days without exercise. The trick is to see past my immediate desire for sloth and see what helps future me. That’s a difficult concept to master, and I hope I can help you find your way to long-range thinking.

A highlight of the month was a theater camp you attended. It was an audition workshop with the goal of preparing you for future school and community theater auditions. You seemed to enjoy it, and you were generally pleasant when your dad or I picked you up after each day. Later this month, you have a couple of weeks of school orientation that’s recommended for students who were online last year. It’s optional, but I signed you up, in part because it will force you to leave your room for a couple of hours a day during that time period. Later in August you have your favorite FilmScene camp, and that’s all day every day for a week. I hope it’s a good experience—it always has been in the past, and this is the last year you’ll be eligible. I’m really happy that you’re able to attend. Your dad suggested asking into becoming a junior counselor or some kind of intern next summer, and I think that would be a great role for you.

We’re planning to redo your bedroom soon. The loft bed we got you a while back never quite worked out for you. It’s going to be a lot of work to disassemble it, clear out the room, find some other place for your computer and other things you have on the build-in desk, and move the new bed in, but I hope it becomes a place you enjoy sleeping. Your dad’s really been pushing for that, which is kind of weird considering he’s the one who is most worried about you not leaving your room enough. Tobin is all for it too, since right now all three of you boys sleep in the bunk bed. The lower level is a full-sized bed, so technically there’s room for both Tobin and Callum, but Tobin wants to move to the top bunk for more personal space. I’ve always found it kind of sweet that you like being in there with your brothers, but I also understand Tobin’s dilemma.

I’m hoping I can get your enthused about it by involving you in the process of picking out new bedding and arranging the space. You’ve always enjoyed being part of the planning—you’re not crazy about surprises and like to have an understanding of things. I asked you what color duvet cover you want to get, and you suggested red. My first instinct was to say that would look awful against your lime-green wall, but it’s been a year when you’ve heard no a lot. This may be a place to put my personal aesthetics aside. Besides, duvet covers are easy to replace. Maybe we could find a reversible one with a different color on the other side. See this space next month for an update on what you chose and how it all turned out.

As I look through pictures from this month, I see that you’ve shared some smiles. Sometimes it’s hard to remember anything other than the most recent event, you were glummer than usual at last night’s family cocktail hour. After dinner and some time by yourself in your room, you accepted my invitation to watch a couple of episodes of the Simpsons together. That’s something both of us truly enjoy, and most of the rest of the family joined us. It was good to hear you laugh. I guess everybody has moods sometimes, and you’ve always been a bit of a stormy character. I see other parents of kids your age expressing frustration and concern just like I’m feeling, so I know we’re not alone in this. We’re having plenty of good times, and I know we have more ahead of us.

Your current favorites: doughnuts, pasta, Pixar films (especially Luca and the new Monsters Inc. shows), your Instagram story that you fill with inanity, Minecraft, sleeping late, rolling your eyes at your dad’s and my jokes, and trying to get away with eating as few fruits and vegetables as possible. I think you did eat some of the strawberries pictured below. You definitely helped pick a lot of them, and though you probably wouldn’t admit it, you had fun in the process.

I love you, Miles, and as I remind you all the time, nothing you could ever say or do would make me stop. I think it annoys you how much I tell you that, but I figure it’s better for you to know too much than to not be sure.

Enjoy your upcoming adventures. I’ll be cheering you on from a sufficient distance as to not humiliate you.

Love,

Mom