Dear Callum,

Third grade life is treating you well so far. Your teacher called to check in with us a week or two ago, and she said you’re doing great in all the important ways. When I picked you up from school the other day, three or four different friends called out to you to say goodbye. You’re learning, having fun, enjoying ELP, and playing soccer. Your Crohn’s dDisease seems to be pretty well-managed. You’re not crazy about all the shots and blood draws you have to get related to your Crohn’s care, but you’re getting more and more brave about facing them. Overall, I feel like you’re doing everything I hoped you would do at this life stage.

This season is always busy-busy-busy, with both you and Tobin playing soccer, Art in the marching band, your swimming lessons, and the various things your dad and I do to work and volunteer. Sometimes it feels like the day goes so fast, before I know it it’s time to tuck you into bed. That’s one of my favorite times of day: we read a chapter of a book, talk about what’s on our minds, say our goodnight rituals, and go to sleep. You don’t need to me to stay with you until you fall asleep anymore, and often I don’t, but sometimes it’s just so cozy in your bed with you that I snooze a while before moving to my bed. It’s not helping me get any reading done, but I doubt I’m going to look back on my life and regret spending some extra snuggly time with you.

The only issue is that you’re very empathetic. Now and then, when a challenging situation comes up in one of your books, you feel so sad for the character facing the difficulty that you cry and have a hard time falling asleep. The most recent occurrence was in a Humphrey book. The class had a long-term substitute teacher, and he was more interesting in having fun than teaching much. First you felt bad that he was a bad teacher, and then when we learned his back story (he erred on the side of being fun, because a previous class didn’t like him and threw wadded-up balls of paper at him), you felt even worse. I never expected to spend so much time consoling you over the feelings of a fictional substitute teacher. You really care about other people, even pretend ones.

We had a fun outing to a Cedar Rapids Kernels game. The Kernels didn’t do so well, but we got a lot of stadium food and enjoyed a fireworks show afterward. You’ve also been an active member of Family Folk Machine this year, the only one of your siblings I can still get to come with me. You’ll be having some ukulele lessons at upcoming rehearsals, which you’ve enjoyed in the past. You particularly enjoy Family Folk Machine songs that include lyrics you can act out. We recently did a performance in support of IC Compassion, a group that supports immigrants, refugees, and other people in need in our community. You took every opportunity to make dramatic gestures to accompany the lyrics. I suspect you prioritize the movements over singing. You may end up as a show choir kid, as long as it’s okay to be more show than choir.

You’ve been taking swimming lessons and improving a lot. Your teacher says that you’re making good progress, and she expects you to really take off after you master the front and back floats. You’re getting good at those, so I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next for you. After your last lesson, you told me that you don’t want to tell Tobin about what you’ve been learning. You want to surprise him when we go to the Florida Keys in March by swimming like a pro in the pool. I think he’ll get a kick out of that, and I know you’ll be proud to show off your abilities. Swimming is such an important life skill, both for safety and pleasure, so I’m glad you’re making good progress.

We’re counting down the months until our Keys trip. The way natural disasters have been happening, I hope our Marathon rental condo is still there in March. The most recent hurricane seems to have avoided the Keys, but the season isn’t over yet. I know we all look forward to returning to our favorite places, and that sparkling blue swimming pool overlooking the ocean is calling your name.

Your current favorites: biking on the path behind our house, watching Star Wars with your dad at night, the Humphrey book series, mini chocolate chip muffins, Super Mario Brothers Odyssey and Bloons video games, the show Word Girl, and maintaining your Duolingo streak (it’s over 200, thanks in part to Tobin occasionally stepping in for you when you forget to do it).

You’re a sweet pup, a caring heart, a good friend, and the sibling least likely to fight with another sibling. I love your tender approach to the world and am so grateful to be part of it.

Love,

Mom