My sweet Tobin,

You are busy, busy, busy, and you love it. Just about every afternoon and evening in your schedule is booked, you’re playing with friends after school, practicing and playing in soccer and baseball games, playing in your school band concert, and going to sleepovers on weekend. Sometimes it’s challenging raising a child whose threshold for being busy is so much higher than mine, and it’s definitely a challenge to keep up with your life. Your dad and I split the duties, and I know you’d like it if I could attend every single one of your events, but sometimes it’s impossible. I need to get your siblings to their classes and practices too, and your baseball games go too late for Callum on school nights. One might argue that they go too late for you on school nights too, but I don’t think you’d ever leave before the final inning. We’re nearing the end of the school year now, and I’ve promised you that I’ll stay till the end of your baseball games once the need to get Callum home to bed is less pressing.

You’re happiest when you’re running, jumping, swinging a bat or kicking a ball. Even around the house, you’re always moving, pacing, and wiggling. You had your school track and field day recently, and you and your friends had a blast doing all the events. Your team even won the 4×100 relay. It was thanks largely to a super-speedy anchor, but he couldn’t have pulled it off if his teammates hadn’t pushed him ahead. You finished the day happy, sweaty, and tired. You were also happy that I came. I was chatting with your friend’s mom at baseball the next day, and she said her son didn’t want her to come. I felt glad that you appreciate my presence at stuff like that, because I love going. I have been really grateful lately for the flexibility of schedule I have. Being present for the special moments in your and your siblings’ lives is so important to me, so it’s nice that you always make me feel welcome.

In non-athletic news, your school year seems to be wrapping up well. We spent a lot of the month preparing for the school spelling bee. I’ll write more about that next month, because it technically occurred after your month birthday. I try to limit the content of these letters to the events of the month, but last week was so busy I’m only now getting a chance to write it. Nevertheless, it was a lot of work to prepare for the spelling bee. Fifth and sixth graders are given a list of words generally intended for seventh and eighth graders, to push you beyond your usual level. We spent a lot of time practicing those words, and it was sometimes pretty frustrating. You had particular trouble with the words precipe, defendant, and fluorescent. We worked hard, though. Watch this space for the exciting conclusion to the spelling bee saga.

You’re still a good helper in the kitchen. You just helped with your favorite, beef and snow peas stir-fry, and you also got a kick out of scraping frozen margarita mix out of containers for your dad and me. You say you want to be a bartender someday like your great-Grandad, and I know you’d be great at it. Like him, you’re good at chatting people up and being charming. I’m sure you’d get a lot of tips.

You were a good sport about participating in the Family Folk Machine concert, but I fear your role in that group may not last long. For you, musical performances is more about spending time with friends and less about the satisfaction of making music per se. You seem to enjoy school band, but that’s more because your friends Ben and Elizabeth both also play saxophone so you get to hang out with them at rehearsals and concerts. Family Folk Machine is fun when your (other) friend Ben is available to play, but he’s also part of the FFM band, so he gets busy with his role doing that toward the end of the session. That leaves you without many peers, since most of the FFM kids skew younger. You’re a good support to Callum, but he’s getting big enough now that he can probably handle it on his own. It will be interesting to see what kind of involvement you choose to having moving forward.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Your current favorites: granola bars, pizza, playing with friends, being goofy, watching Scooby Doo with Callum, playing Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom on the Switch, and cuddling up in bed with Callum and me for bedtime reading of the Humphrey series. You started doing that a while ago, and it’s become a tradition. Sometimes you and Callum jockey for space in bed, which in turn shoves me around, but I like having you there. In fact, you and Callum agreed that we’d skip Humphrey tonight, because you’re at a friend’s house for a sleepover, and we wouldn’t want you to miss out.

You’re a joy, a bright light, and a resilient kid. Though your life is not without its trials and disappointments, I can always count on you to bounce back quickly and find something to smile about. You are something to smile about, every single day.

Love,

Mom

My sweet Callum,

You’re one hundred months old now. I know non-parents laugh at how parents describe their children’s ages in months to the extent that it’s weird (e.g., “My 28-month-old knows a lot of words”). I don’t do that on a daily basis, but one benefit of writing you a monthly blog entry is that I keep track of those numerical milestones when otherwise I wouldn’t. One hundred months is a nice number to think about. So much has happened in the last one hundred months, in our family, in our world, and of course for you.

We have our Family Folk Machine tenth anniversary concert later this afternoon. You’ve been around almost as long as FFM, and you’ve been a part of it one way or another your whole life. In fact, your fetal nickname, Little Potato, was inspired by a Family Folk Machine song. Interestingly, you’re not a huge fan of potatoes. You like French fries of course, but in a meal of steak frites, you’re more likely to focus on the steak.

In preparation for the concert, I’ve been reflecting on the last decade, and you’re a huge part of that. Every kid brings something special to a family, but you’re truly an irreplaceable member of ours. You bring wit, humor, and thoughtfulness to every conversation. You are sweet and affectionate. You are tender-hearted, and you often come to me to confess minor transgressions that happened months ago. I hope they don’t stress you out too much, because some things seem to stick with you for a long time. I always assure you that I still love you, that nothing you could say or do would ever change that. I think you enjoy that reassurance, because sometimes you preface or conclude your confessions with “But you still love me, right?” The answer, of course is yes: always, yes.

One thing I appreciate you is your ability to be equally comfortable on your own or in a group. You had a doctor’s appointment last week, and your dad and I took you out to lunch afterward. The restaurant we went to has a nice playground nearby, so we stopped there before heading home. At the playground, you played happily by yourself for a while, but when you happened upon another kid around your age, you engaged with him happily and naturally. School has been great for you in that way. I was never terribly worried about your social development, since you’ve grown up with siblings and neighborhood friends, but two years of online school does have its drawbacks. I am so happy that the school year has gone well and you’ve developed good friendships and socialization skills.

The academic side has been going very well too. The annual school spelling bee is coming up after a several-year hiatus, and you’ve been doing a good job studying in preparation. Your teacher gives glowing reports about your work in the classroom so far. We’re still waiting on the results of a standardized test that will determine whether you will be in ELP next year. I hope you’re able to do that, because you’ve really enjoyed your enrichment class (a pre-ELP special class for kids whose teachers recommend them). In any case, you approach school with an attitude of fun, focus, and dedication. I love that it’s been a good experience for you and hope that remains the case for the rest of your education.

You have a fairly big medical procedure coming up next week, at least by eight-year-old standards: an upper and lower endoscopy (aka colonoscopy). You’ve been having some GI problems for quite a while, and the doctors have noticed that your weight has flattened out. We’ve tried a few strategies already, like eliminating certain food groups, adding probiotics to your diet, and adjusting your fiber levels, but nothing seems to have made much of an impact. We want to figure out what’s going on in there in order to learn the best way to take care of you and make sure you’re absorbing all your nutrients. You have enough people in your life who’ve been through it that you’ve gotten a lot of reassurance, but you’re not thoroughly enjoying the preparation process. I hope at this time next month I can update with more specific information about how we’re moving forward. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but we have access to a great team of doctors who are dedicated to helping you. Plus, you get unlimited popsicles the day before the procedure.

Your current favorites: watching Scooby Doo with Tobin, chicken wings, steak, playing baseball and soccer, playing the new Zelda video game, the Humphrey book series, school, wearing mittens and shadowboxing, our cozy bedtime rituals, cocktail hour on the balcony, and playing with friends. Your allergies are sure to get wild any day now, but so far they haven’t been too terrible, so we’ve been able to enjoy spring a little more than usual. You’re also doing a lot better with getting your special anti-allergen eye drops than you were in previous years. That helps a lot.

Your body brings some challenges, but you’re such a sweet and smart little guy, I know we can find solutions and strategies. Thank you for your continued cooperation and all the joy you bring to our home. I love you so much.

Love,

Mommy

My dear Artemis,

As I write this, you’re in your final weeks of your first year of high school. As far as I know, all is going well. I was chatting with the mom of another freshman after your band concert, and I asked how her kid was doing. She replied, “Fine…I think.” She said she doesn’t get much information from her kid, which certainly sounded familiar to me. In your ideal world, you would only leave your room for food. We’ve been short on family meals lately due to the very busy extracurricular schedules of your little brothers, as well as a class you’ve been taking (more on that later), so I haven’t even been getting my precious family dinner check-ins as often as I’d like.

I’m glad you’re enjoying your French class so much, because that’s rich fodder for discussion. When we do sit down together, a frequent topic is whatever verb tense or phrase or construction you’ve recently learned. It’s a nice way to get a feel for your general outlook on your life. I’m learning some French out of the deal, too.

Your biggest recent accomplishment is the acquisition of your learner’s permit. You had to have it before I could register you for Drivers’ Ed, and the only summer session that worked in our schedule started in May. It was a good task to check off the list, and now you’re ready to drive. Your dad and I have both taken you out on the road several times, and you’ve had a couple of driving lessons with your instructor so far. Drivers’ Ed works a little differently here and now than it did when I was a teen. Rather than being offered through the school, a variety of private companies offer the class. Also, there is no classroom component. You do all the classroom-type work online, and you set up appointments to drive with the instructor. You also got to pick your own driving partner, and luckily your good friend Jacob was taking the same session. Also luckily, the instructor is your former elementary school P.E. teacher. I call him Mr. O’Rourke, which is not his name at all, but that’s another story. He was happy to see you and Jacob again, and he was totally open and respectful about calling you Artemis. You said he’s a good teacher and very patient.

That’s good, because you haven’t clocked a lot of hours behind the wheel yet. We’ll continue to work on it. I noticed on our last outing you seemed a lot more confident. You were no longer making some of the mistakes you made on your earlier driving experiences, like driving toward the curb and misjudging appropriate stopping distance. We also did some work on parallel parking. We went out to a quiet residential street in our neighborhood, and I put a couple of boxes (one from a pair of Nikes, one from a twelve pack of A&W cream soda) along the curb. Using my favorite method, you successfully parallel parked several times. After your first success, a person yelled “Good job!” out the window of a house. That made us laugh. I’m glad you didn’t know she was watching, though, because it might have made you nervous. The A&W box did not make it out entirely unscathed, but we did, and I hope you’re feeling more comfortable.

You’re creative, smart, and interesting. As of a moment ago when I last checked your grades, you’re doing excellent work at school. Later this summer, you’re going to take a variation on the animation camp you’ve done several times. It’s intended for older or more experienced animators, and it focuses on creating miniatures that could be used in filmmaking. I’m looking forward to seeing the work you do. You often have interesting an innovative ideas. You made a card game for Callum, and the two of you had a good time playing it together. You’ve been playing a lot of chess lately, both online and physically, and Callum was feeling a little defeated because he could never beat you or Tobin. I think the card game was a way of doing something fun for him that let him feel successful. You may seem a little surly on the outside, but your kind heart shows up in your actions.

You’ve had a couple of big band concerts lately. Mubby and Skitter joined us for both of them. First was the Jazz Showcase, in which you and the other jazz band instrumentalists showed off your skills. You and I attended that last year as spectators, before you were a participant, and that may have been what piqued your interest about joining jazz band. It’s a wonderful event, the best concert of the year in my opinion. Rather than holding it in the auditorium, where we typically see concerts, it’s held in the school cafeteria. The music department (and many parent volunteers) do a really nice job setting it up to give it a jazz club feeling, with round tables, snacks and drinks, and nice lighting and decorations. The music is excellent as well. A guest artist is usually invited, and that person gives workshops to the students and joins in on a few songs. This year it was a trumpet player, and it sounds like you had a good time learning from him and playing with the Jazz Workshop. Your school’s music program is exemplary, and I’m so glad you have the opportunity to be a part of it.

Photo by Gary Clarke

The traditional band concert was a couple of weeks later. The musical performances were also outstanding in that one. It went on pretty long, because there was much recognition of graduating seniors and speeches of gratitude for the band leaders. I appreciated their heartfelt words and acknowledge the value of celebrating their accomplishments, but it seems like a lot of that could have taken place at a banquet just for seniors. I will probably be much less grumpy about it when you’re a senior and I know a lot of the kids involved. In any case, it’s a good thing your little brothers stayed home for that one. They really enjoyed the jazz concert, but probably more for the popcorn, chocolates, and lemonade than the music. The traditional concert didn’t have any of those, so it would have been hard for young kids to sit through it. I didn’t mind, though, especially when I saw your beaming smile at the end. Thanks to Skitter for capturing a photo of it.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Your current favorites: playing chess, pasta, sleeping late, the upcoming new Zelda video game, not hitting pedestrians with the car you’re driving, Honey Nut Cheerios, and Breaking Bad. Sometimes you watch Lost and we talk about it, but you haven’t done that in a while. That’s okay, because I haven’t had a lot of spare time for TV lately, and I don’t like it when you get too far ahead of me. I’m never going to catch up in height or in French, but I have a chance on decades-old television shows.

Thanks for the wit and music you bring to our family, Artie. I love you.

Mom