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