Hello, Miles.

You seem tired.  We knew it would be challenging for everyone to have you in two sports at the same time—Let Me Run and baseball—and it has, in fact, been pretty exhausting.  Last night after running a couple of miles with Let Me Run, coming home for a quick wardrobe change, and heading out to the ballpark for a game, your dad said you were moving pretty slowing.  I asked him whether you seemed sick, tired from running, or were just a lethargic baseball player.  He said it was probably a combination of the second two.

We might have to drop one of them next year.  It’s been a lot for all of us to handle, especially with your dad coaching Let Me Run and me having Callum and Tobin to deal with.  Tobin has his own baseball schedule that I mostly handle (or at least I will until Let Me Run is over, which is in a couple of weeks), and many nights we hardly see each other as a family unit at all.  I don’t like that, and I think it’s hard on you too.  You are a person who needs downtime (I deeply relate), and we haven’t had much of that lately.  Things will slow down somewhat when you’re out of school at the end of the month, and they’ll slow down further at the end of June.  I’m sure July and August will go by fast, because we have a lot we hope to accomplish then, but at least our schedule will be more flexible.

By this time next month, you’ll be all done with fourth grade.  I’m sure I say this every year about every kid, but fifth grade seems awfully old.  At least you’re not going to middle school or junior high yet.  I don’t think I could take it.

Your interest in piano has been waning lately.  You’ve decided to take the summer off, which I think is fine.  I always cherished having the summer off from piano too.  It’s not going to change my life a whole lot, since Tobin is going to take your slot in your teacher’s schedule, but you seem very excited to be done with it for the time being.  I hope you want to start again in the fall, but you have been putting in the very minimum practice time and generally don’t seem too enthused about it.  I’m not sure how hard to push it.  On one hand, you already have plenty of music in your life.  You do Orff Club and Family Folk Machine, and you’ll have the opportunity to start a band instrument next year.  It might be asking too much for you to do all those things.  On the other hand, I took piano for years longer than I actually enjoyed it, but now I’m grateful for my basic skills.  I’m no virtuoso, but I’m competent enough to serve my own limited needs.  It would be nice if you had that too.  I guess we’ll talk about it come fall.

We had a small performance with Family Folk Machine last weekend, when we sang at the Take a Kid Outdoors event.  Besides our performance, there were many other fun things to do.  You and your dad and Tobin paddled around in a canoe, and you tried out a rudimentary arrow slinging tool (without great success, but you had fun).  We’ve got our fifth anniversary Family Folk Machine concert coming up next weekend, and I’m looking forward to sharing that with you.  We’ve grown a lot as an ensemble in the last five years, and you of course have really grown, both physically and in terms of confidence and musical skill.  You’re going to sound great on your solo in “Wabash Cannonball.”

This is one reason I’d like you to stick with piano for a few more years.  I think you have the natural aptitude for some musical success, and I want you to find satisfaction in pushing yourself and seeing results.  Your dad gets frustrated with you in sports because you’re very reluctant to push yourself, which leads to some very sluggish runs and lackadaisical outfielding.  I know you felt proud of your improvements in the fall Let Me Run season, but it seems like you haven’t been trying too hard to make the same kinds of strides this spring.  I don’t need you to demand perfection of yourself, but it would be nice if you cared a little more.

To your credit, you are pretty brave about trying new (non-food) things.  You’ve gotten into the Rubik’s Cube and made some good progress on solving it.  You don’t seem to mind a bit that you’ll be taking summer classes with kids you don’t know.  You can belt out a choir solo like it’s no big deal.  Maybe your relaxed attitude toward objective success has its advantages.

Through it all, my dear Miles, I love you.  I’m looking forward to having more time with you this summer.

Love,

Mom