Dear Tobin,

The day you’ve been wishing for has finally arrived: you’re back in school in-person. You’ve seemed very happy with it so far. You seem to like your new teacher and are getting along well with your classmates. You were disappointed when you found out that your best friend and some of your other closer buddies are in the other section, but in your characteristic Tobin fashion, you’ve forged and strengthened other friendships. You have been quite tired after school each day. Attending in-person is a bigger load in terms of energy expenditure. I haven’t heard you complain at all about academics, so I assume that’s going fine. You’ve started ELP in person, and one cool thing about how they’re doing that this year is that you’re in a mixed-grade group that includes older kids. I was in mixed-grade ELP when I was a fourth-grader too, and I remember it being so fun and cool to hear the perspectives of older kids. You’re certain accustomed to holding your own with your older sibling, so I’m sure you have no problem meshing with that group.

I’ve been picking you up for lunch every day, and you’ve been a good sport about it. I’m sure you’d rather be eating with your friends, but with the high transmission rate and skyrocketing cases of Covid in our community, I’m more comfortable with your unmasked time being at home. You also enjoy a hot lunch, and I’m happy to make it for you. You’re always in a hurry to get back and join your friends at recess. I think active recess time is something you missed a lot during your online school days, so I’m glad you’re back to that. One thing that bothers me about your classroom is that your teacher keeps offering snacks and treats as rewards for good behavior. So far you’ve been very gracious about waiting until you get home to have them, but I hate that you’re put in a socially awkward position like that. I wish she would choose rewards that don’t involve kids removing their masks. I really appreciate your strength of character. You’ve always been a leader, and maybe some of your friends follow your example and take their candy home as well.

You’re taking a break from taekwondo at the moment, but you will start basket later this week. Again, I’m going to count on you to keep your mask on all the time. Your normal water bottle doesn’t have a straw attachment, so I’m glad for you to borrow mine and just stick the straw under your mask for a moment to hydrate. I know so many people with Covid right now, and even though I don’t know anyone whose case is technically worse than “mild,” that can still be pretty debilitating. “Mild” just means you don’t require hospitalization, but quite a few people I know are knocked out for a week or more. Kids seem to fare better than adults, but I would still strongly prefer everyone in our family to remain uninfected.

We’ve been planning and dreaming our Spring Break trip. The last time we went to the Keys was right in the beginning of the pandemic, and we did basically nothing except hang out in our condo, alternating between the pool and the beach. You even came down with an ear infection, so it was really not the ideal trip. I’m hoping this time will be more fun. While there are a lot more Covid cases floating around now than there were then, I also feel less afraid now. We have tools: KN95 and KF94 masks, vaccinations and boosters, and knowledge about which activities are riskier than others. We may eat at restaurants that offer outdoor dining—fortunately, those are plentiful in the balmy Keys. We’re also hoping to finally enjoy a visit to the Dolphin Research Center and spend some time interacting with dolphins. We had planned to do that last time, but that obviously didn’t work out, so I hope we can now. It will be great to get a head start on outdoor fun in a climate that’s more hospitable. I did buy trip insurance that includes coverage for cancellation due to Covid, so if one or more of us gets sick, we can reschedule. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but it increases the odds that we’ll take the trip one way or another.

Family vacations are important to me, and I really cherish the time we have together on those trips. I’ve noticed you’ve been less of a morning person than usual lately. You’ve been extra crabby in the mornings when your dad or I wakes you up for school. You do have to get up earlier in order to arrive at school on time than you did for online school, when your commute was the distance between the kitchen and your office downstairs. Still, I hope you can muster up the energy to join me for our customary morning beach walks. Those are special memories for me, and even though you’ll be ten-and-half next month, I hope you’re still game.

Along with your return to school, you’ve been returning to playdates with friends. Our family rule is that all indoor interaction is masked, and you’ve done great with that. You played at a friend’s house last weekend and fell in love with the Oculus Quest Virtual Reality headset. You and your siblings have been lobbying hard to get one for our house. Between you and Artemis, you have enough savings to buy it, and you’ve decided Callum can buy the games. I think it’s fine—I’d rather you saved your money and got something really cool than getting a bunch of junky little things. Your dad seems less convinced, so we’ll have to wait and see how it works out. You’ve been building a solid case, including researching educational games. You say you’re working on a persuasive speech to deliver to your dad. I am looking forward to hearing it.

Your current favorites: watching Psych with your dad, cinnamon toast, Oreos, playing in-person with your friends, playing soccer at recess and tag in P.E., books by Stuart Gibbs, not sitting still at the dinner table, family movie nights (we recently watched Encanto again), and jumping up to hit the top of any door frame through which you pass. You hurt your foot doing your usual wild antics, and I’ve been telling you to take it easy so you’re fully healed for basketball. You always say you will, and yet, I hear a lot of tell-tale thumps as you bound through the house. You’re a high-energy fellow, Tobin, always making everything a little spicier.

We’re all adjusting to this new way of life. I miss having you around, but I also know that you’re learning and growing in ways that you need to be outside the house to accomplish. It’s a stretch for you too; you’ve been more tired and grumpy than usual, but not always. I am so grateful that you’re willing to compromise between total freedom and total caution. You’re adventurous, but you’re smart, and that makes me feel better about sharing you with the outside world.

The world is lucky to have you, and I’m lucky that you come home to me, at lunch and otherwise.

Love,

Mom

My dear Callum,

Happy birthday, sweet pup! You have reached your seventh birthday, the same age your oldest sibling was when you were born. That seems like a sort of circle-closing in our family, like we’ve moved on from the little-kids-in-the-house stage. That makes me a bit sad, because I loved your little-kid days, but I’m also excited about all the wonderful things that come with you getting bigger.

Obviously our options are still limited, but it’s nice to know that I’m unlikely to have to leave a movie partway through in order to wander around the theater lobby with you. You don’t need to be carried home if a walk goes long, and you can even read well enough to hold your own in a lot of games, traditional and video.

A month ago, we still planned on having you go back to school in person after winter break. That was before we knew a lot of things, including this outrageous omicron surge and the fact that our beloved Mrs. Davis would still be teaching your grade online. We did a Zoom with the teacher to whom you were assigned for in-person school, and she seemed like a lovely person, but it concerned me how many little kids kept taking off their masks and getting up in her business. One night, long after the deadline to choose an enrollment type had passed, I had a dream that we made a request for an exception to the deadline and for you to stay in online school with Mrs. Davis. When I woke up, I burst into tears because I realized how much actually wanted that. I confessed my feelings to your dad, mostly expecting him to talk me down from my freak-out. I thought he’d remind me that you’re fully-vaccinated, that the likelihood of anyone in our family having serious health complications from COVID is low, and that our school district still requires masks (even though a lot of first-graders have a hard time keeping them on). I’m also aware that I shouldn’t put too much stake in emotions I have while underslept, which I certainly was at that time due to the disturbing dreams.

To my slight surprise, your dad said he’d been feeling the same way. All the things I expected him to remind me are still true, but you’ve had such a wonderful experience with Mrs. Davis that it seems foolish to turn away from her. I am very privileged to have the flexibility of schedule that allows me to support your online school work, and I think it would be less stressful for everyone for you to start your in-person school experience at the beginning of the academic year, when everyone in your classes is starting in a new classroom with a new teacher.

All the district offices were closed for winter break when we decided to request the exception, but with some guidance from a friend on the school board, we got through and made the request. The district administrators kindly granted it, and Mrs. Davis said she was thrilled to have you back in her class. We got it all sorted out in time, and when winter break ended, you logged into Mrs. Davis’s Zoom and continued the excellent learning you’ve been doing all year.

Your academic development has been remarkable. You’ve become a confident reader, and you were invited to join math ELP. You’ve only done one real session of that so far, as the first one was mostly introductions and organizational topics, but you held your own just fine. It’s fun and rewarding to watch you grow. I know you’re proud of your own successes, too. I asked you if you have any idea what you’d like to be when you grow up, and you said you want a job like your dad’s where you can work from home. You may not remember the years when he went into the office every day, but you really enjoy the cozy lifestyle we’ve adopted. It’s the biggest upside to this whole pandemic mess. I really love having my people all together with me as much as possible, and I love that you’re still happy to be a part of it.

You lost another tooth this month. Unlike most kids, you lost your top front teeth before your bottom teeth. At a recent dentist appointment, the dentist speculated that you might have the same issue as your dad, where you’re missing the two top teeth that flank the front teeth (lateral incisors?). She didn’t know for sure, as you’ve never had the kind of x-ray that would show that, and she didn’t think there was a great rush to get that done. That might be why you lost your top teeth first, because the extra space next to them made room for the permanent teeth to grow in unimpeded. In any case, we live in a world rich in dental resources, and we’ll get you sorted out one way or another. The good news is that you didn’t have any cavities. This is probably because of the good job your dad does brushing your teeth every night. I brush them in the morning before school, and it always seems like we’re in a hurry. I’m sure I don’t reach the two-minute brushing goal most of the time. But something’s working, so I guess I’ll continue to count on your dad to really get the job done at bedtime.

Another bathroom task you’ve done well recent is a COVID test. We all did tests before holiday travel, and you spit into the tube like a champ. We test your school-attending siblings weekly, so another advantage of you doing school from home is not asking you to do that every Friday morning. Due to the super high demand, our state testing facility has had much slower turnaround time in the last few weeks, and it’s nice to have one fewer test to fret about.

Your current favorites: Kate DiCamillo’s Mercy Watson and Tales from Deckawoo Drive book series, chicken wings, wearing pajamas all day, playing Minecraft with your siblings, playing King’s Quest with me, dancing in the dining room, working out, waffles, and playing outside when weather permits.

You are such a joy, my sweet little guy. I will never regret the extra hours I’ve spent with you. Your curiosity, creativity, humor, and interesting in your world make me smile every day.

Love,

Mommy

Happy birthday, my sweetheart!

I posted a birthday greeting to you on Facebook, and a couple of your friends’ parents (because Facebook is 50% stuff about our kids and 50% vaccine information) mentioned that they’re glad you’re a friend to their children. That made me feel so proud. After all the obstacles you and your peers have faced, with limited socialization opportunities through a pandemic, I’m glad that you’ve developed solid friendships. I know you’ve been supporting one friend in particular through a hard time, and I hope you’re getting the same kind of bolstering from your other friends.

Around the house, your social interaction is a mixed bag. You always seem to slip away from the dinner table as soon as you can, to the extent that it’s become a family joke. When you’re with us, though, you’re often a smart and funny contributor to family discussions. That’s one reason I hold our Saturday night family cocktail hour tradition so closely. We can’t always get everyone to stay in the same room for very long, but it’s a time when we hang out together with no ulterior motives: no lectures about grades or messy rooms or lack of trombone practice, no pressure to eat plants against your will. It’s a time to simply be together. I know as you get older it will be harder to make those occasions happen with regularity, but I will never stop enjoying them.

Booster shots for your age group were recently approved by the FDA and CDC, and as it happened, their first day of availability was a day school was cancelled due to inclement weather. That made it convenient to schedule an appointment for you, so we got that done quickly and easily. You did a little wiggle right as the practitioner was giving you the shot, so you bled more than expected, but it wasn’t a big problem. While I would never hope for a global pandemic, all these Pfizer shots have had an additional upside of greatly reducing needle-panic in you and your brothers. I used to be terribly freaked out by shots, to the extent that I thought I wouldn’t want an epidural during labor because it involved a shot. As it turns out, 13+ hours of labor on broken water and Pitocin make a person willing to accept just about anything to make it stop. This is why I’m sure I would give up any state secrets I knew if subjected to torture. Anyway, my point was that our family has faced very little shot-drama with all these vaccines. I’m so glad you and your brothers see the enormous benefit, not only to yourselves but to our extended family and society at large.

Look back at photos from your 13th birthday, I can see how much you’ve grown physically. You’re continuing to do a good job wearing your scoliosis brace and doing your Scroth physical therapy. I feel confident that we got started on those practices before your major growth spurt began. That’s lucky, because the first person who noticed it was your pediatrician at a regular physical, which we delayed by about six months due to the pandemic. I’m glad we were still able to catch it early and begin a treatment that will, in all likelihood, arrest the issue without the need for surgery. Also, I don’t know if you’re getting stronger or your exercise band is getting weaker, but you were in the middle of doing your lat pull-downs a few nights ago, and the thing snapped in two. It was loud enough (and our surprised shouts were loud enough) that people came down to check on us. It’s hard to know whether the bracing and PT are having a positive effect, but if they’re not, it’s not from any fault of yours. I really admire how well you’re sticking to your program. I’m part of a Facebook group for parents of kids with scoliosis, and I see so many reports of kids who whine and complain and won’t commit to their therapies. I think that you have the maturity to see that the payoff is worth the discomfort, much like vaccines.

You’re technically old enough to get your learner’s permit for driving now. You’ve expressed some interest in getting it, though I’m waiting for you to ask to take the concrete steps, like downloading the study manual and making an appointment to take the test. As your dad mentioned, spring would probably be a better time to do driving practice anyway, so I hope you’re not in too big a hurry. I’m going to have to start scouting out empty parking lots (Hancher on a weekend with no performances, maybe?) and quiet streets for practice sessions. I do not recommend wearing your kaleidoscope glasses while driving. Iowa City streets are weird enough as it is.

Your current favorites: flannel pajama pants, headphones (both noise-cancelling and mic-ed headset styles), pasta, Mario Maker, and chatting with your friends. You also enjoy making goofy, wide-eyed facial expressions every time I try to get a nice picture of you.

I’m so honored to have known you for your whole life, my dear child. Not every day has been easy, and I know I’ll look back on these recent years and wonder how we managed to get through them. But most of those challenges aren’t because of you. You have always had a good sense of integrity, and I see that in the way you care for your friends and brothers. Last weekend, you were playing poker with Mubby and Skitter, and you and Callum were playing as a “team.” I don’t know anything about poker, but I could easily see that you were being kind and patient with Callum. He didn’t always have the best judgment, but you didn’t yell at him or refuse to include him. It would be overly rosy to say that’s how things always go—Tobin in particular can really get to you. But most of the time, you’re calm and funny and nice to have around when you choose to join us. You know there’s always a place for you.

That’s what I want to be for you: a constant source of support, present even if it’s quietly in the background. Even if I can’t keep you at the dinner table, I always keep you in my mind and heart.

I love you and I am excited to get to know the person you’re becoming.

Love,

Mom