Dear Tobin,

The theme of this month has been basketball: playing it, watching it, talking about it, and quizzing family members about it. You and your dad have reinstated your tradition of getting Bruegger’s Bagels after your games. One of the locations in our area has an associated Jamba Juice, so if you go there, a Razzmatazz smoothie is part of the deal. If you go to the other location, you choose hot chocolate. Your dad has been assistant-coaching your team, and it’s a fun thing for you to do together. You’ve had some frustrations with basketball this year, particularly with teammates who don’t act exactly how you want them to, but your team is strong overall. It’s a good thing there’s no official score-keeping at this level, because I would have felt bad for the opposing team in your last game due to how hard you creamed them.

The biggest issue on my mind this month (besides war in Ukraine) is the probable end of the mask mandate at your school. We got through the omicron surge without infection thanks to good masking practices, but the CDC has updated its recommendations to now allow for unmasked indoor activities in low- and medium-risk areas. Our county is, by the CDC’s calculations, medium-risk. My major issue is with their calculus: it’s not based entirely on new cases, active cases, or test positivity, but rather a formula combining new cases with available hospital beds. It’s as if they’re giving up on the idea of keeping people from contracting Covid and just saying, “Well, if you do, you can probably get treated.” That’s an insult to the health care professionals who have been taxed to the limit during this most recent surge. Should we take availability of care for granted and assume that our health care systems can handle it? That seems like a dangerous and callous proposition to me.

In the selfish short-term, I am terrified of our spring break trip getting derailed. If you know me, you know how much vacations mean to me. I spend most days thinking about what and when my next trip will be, and we haven’t had a real one since 2020 (our long weekend in Illinois last summer was lovely, but it didn’t fully scratch the itch). If you or Artemis brings Covid home from school and we have to cancel, we will all be so disappointed. I have booked the dolphin encounter that we had originally planned to do two years ago, and you and I have been anticipating it so much. I also love taking morning walks on the beach, just the two of us. I truly hope our trip can happen over spring break as planned, but I did buy trip insurance that will allow us to reschedule if needed. It’s a lot more appealing to escape to the 78-degree weather there in March than to go from 85 degrees here to 90 degrees there, but if we have to go in the summer, we will. There is no getting between us and the beach.

I just picked you up from a friend’s birthday party at a packed bowling alley. A good 95% of the patrons were unmasked, but you had your KF94 on snugly. You even skipped birthday cake (though you got a to-go pack) at my request. I know this sucks, Tobin. I know it’s hard to be the kid who can’t have cake at a birthday party. It’s probably how kids with diabetes or food allergies feel all the time. In any case, I think you have the strength of character to keep masking, even when your friends and other people around you aren’t. You’ve always been a leader, and maybe you’ll influence some others toward safer behavior.

You’re a helper, too. You are always ready to pitch in when someone needs a hand, whether it’s making a bed, cooking stir-fry for dinner, or taking care of Callum. Callum was feeling a little off his game the other day with a bit of stomach distress, and you were so kind to him. You got him all cozy on the couch, tucked him in with blankets and stuffed animals, and read him a story. This was all without me asking you to help—you just saw a need and met it. I don’t know exactly how this trait will play out later in your life, but I could see you in a helping profession. You could also be an attorney with all the spirited debate that goes on at our dinner table. Ultimately, it’s your decision, and I know you’ll do well in whatever you choose. It’s probably frowned-upon for an attorney to burst into giggles after making a particularly salient point, so I suppose you’d need to work on that.

We got the written report from your teacher in anticipation of your upcoming parent-teacher conference, and we were happy to see that your first month back at school is going great. She didn’t indicate any areas of concern, and you’re excelling in many areas as well. I’m looking forward to talking to her and hearing her take on how your transition back is going. If your happiness is any indication, I expect to hear good things. You’ve really thrived being back in a community of your peers, and I’m so glad you’re able to do it. Just keep up the good mask use and we can all be happy.

Your dad and I have noticed you being rather moody lately, and it often seems to be related to whether you’ve eaten recently. You may be in a growth spurt, and it’s hard to get you to eat often enough to keep up with your body’s physical and emotional needs. You’ve gotten me well-trained, though: when you’re being mopey and crabby, putting a bowl of Cheerios in front of you almost always improves the situation. This is not to say your personality has fundamentally changed. You’re still a sunshiney guy, quick to laugh and slow to take umbrage. You make any room brighter just by entering it.

Your current favorites: pizza from the Wig & Pen; NBA basketball; rec league youth basketball; playing “Bouncy Bros,” which I think is some kind of wild game involving exercise balls, which I have not personally witnessed because I stay upstairs when it’s happening; being with your school friends; the Diary of a Wimpy Kid book series and any book by Stuart Gibbs; listening to audiobooks; and playing online computer games with your friends.

Let’s keep up the great work, Tobin, and there will be a wonderful, sandy reward in our future. I can’t wait to wiggle my toes in the water next to you.

Love,

Mom