Dear Miles,

Our family ebbs, our family flows.  It seems like there’s always at least one kid in a difficult stage, but mercifully, there’s usually at least one in a great stage too.  I am glad to say that at this moment, you’re in a really wonderful stage.  That’s not to say everything is perfect—the more challenging aspects of the world still get to you sometimes—but overall your dad and I have been so grateful for the ways you make our family better.

You have been especially kind, patient, and helpful with Callum lately.  You play with Imaginext toys with him, staging complex battles between Batman and Joker.  You read books to him, including this elaborate March Madness-style book bracket tournament in which you and Tobin read him books and he has to pick his favorite.  He’s not always good at sitting still for all those stories, but it’s so cute I try to hold him down to make him listen as much as I can.

Your school got enough participants to have a Let Me Run team this spring, and that’s been a very good experience for you so far.  You’ve never been a big sports guy, which is fine.  As a fellow non-sports person, I am happy to encourage your interest in the arts.  But I also recognize that physical fitness is one key to longevity and quality of long-term life, so I am glad you enjoy Let Me Run so much.  You’re learning goal-setting and perseverance, and I think you feel proud of yourself when you can complete your training runs without any walk breaks.  You’re not too interested in pushing yourself in the speed department, and once again, Tobin is likely to beat you in the 5k next month.  You don’t seem to care, though.  You’re happy to be doing something fun outside with your friends.  Let Me Run also has important emotional and social health elements, so you’re learning positive strategies to deal with emotions and how to treat people respectfully.

You’re becoming more and more independent.  You enjoy a good mug of hot chocolate, and you’re good at making it yourself (with marshmallows AND whipped cream, of course).  Recently you were acting in a way that used to be pretty common for you but has been less so lately:  huffy and touchy and blowing up at your brothers over small things (which all sounds very Big Bad Wolf as I re-read this).  I could see you needed a break from the situation, so I invited you out for a hot chocolate date at the Java House, just the two of us.  Hot chocolate is always a good lure, and we had such a nice, quiet, relaxing chat.  You said Tobin was stressing you out by being so loud.  I can understand that.  He’s taken up some particularly loud hobbies lately, and I know it can work my nerves too.  It was nice to have a low-stimulation environment in which to hang out with you.  You even insisted on sharing your muffin with me.

You continue to do well in all your musical hobbies.  I’m sure I’ll have more to say next month, because you will have just finished your spring band concert when you’ll have the honor of performing with both the fifth and sixth grade bands.  You’re also really excited for some other upcoming band events, including a “tour” of east-side elementary schools.  It’s rare for a fifth-grader to be involved in that, and you can’t wait to show off for your friends.  You also have an ice-skating party for all band-members.  You’ve ice skated before, and your approach to skating is similar to your approach to running:  don’t push it speed-wise, but persevere.

Your current favorites:  trombone, Let Me Run, giving Callum airplane rides, pasta, orange chicken from Panda Express, the trampoline park, and taking the side of some YouTube music channel from India in an Internet rivalry that I don’t understand at all.

The spring weather has finally come, and it’s given us all the boost that we need.  Thanks for being such a great kid, Miles.  I promise I’ll keep paying attention to your signals and making time for some quiet hot chocolate with you.

Love,

Mom