Dear Miles,

I was talking to the mom of one of your sixth-grade classmates, and she mentioned a similar phenomenon to one I’ve noticed with you:  the back-in hug.  You’re at a life stage where it’s normal for you to be less attached to me, to seek independence and think mom-hugs are lame.  Still, mom-hugs are important (for both of us), and it’s become almost a game.  I find any excuse I can to hug you–“helping” you keep your balance when you are not really in danger of falling, making adjustments to your hair or clothes, or just a casual arm-drape.  You act like you don’t like it but also don’t hurry away.  It’s a compromise we can both accept.  Now and then you even back into a hug as if by accident.

Photo by Gary Clarke

The summer finished up nicely.  You spent time at Mubby and Skitter’s, complete with the exhaustive (exhausting) list of activities Mubby generously coordinates.  I loved seeing the frequent updates she sent of your adventures.  We finished out the summer with some Planet 3 trampoline-jumping time, outside play time, screen time, and general chilling out.

You moaned and groaned about school starting, but now that you’ve gotten into the groove, you seen happy.  You like your teacher, and even though you didn’t end up grouped with your closest friends, it seems like you get along well with your classmates.  The year is starting to get even busier, as Let Me Run and band will be starting soon.  We’ve already gotten going on piano lessons again, which means our regular trips to Dairy Queen have also resumed.  For a kid who is still a super-picky eater, you have sampled a very wide variety of Dairy Queen items.  I think the s’mores Blizzard may be your favorite.

We  engaged in our (and everybody else in the Iowa City metro area’s) fall tradition of going apple picking at Wilson’s Orchard.  We used to go on a weeknight until we discovered that they only make their fresh apple cider doughnuts on weekends, and we decided they’re worth braving the crowds.  This has been my all-time worst year for garden tomatoes, so it’s nice to feel a little agricultural and pick fruit from a tree for family consumption.  You’ve voluntarily eaten several pieces of fruit, too, so that’s a win.

All the good care you took of Callum this summer, both through formal babysitting situations and times when I just to be on a different floor of the house, earned you your new (used) trombone.  We found a reasonably good deal on one that has a reputation of holding its usefulness for a long time, and you’re looking forward to using it in sixth-grade band.  I think you’ll also have a chance to play in the Family Folk Machine horn section, which is exciting for you.  You were the only member of the horn section younger than high-school aged, which is a pretty cool achievement.  You frequently impress me with your tone and motivation in your playing.  Maybe soon your arms will be long enough to play that elusive B-natural.

Your current favorites:  pasta, Minecraft, reading, riddles, sighing dramatically when asked to do the smallest of chores, but overall being a sweet guy.  Most importantly, you’re a good brother.

I know I can’t expect you to stay a cuddly baby forever, but I also know that you have a kind heart and that your irascible preteen and teen years won’t completely obliterate it.  I might have to look a little harder to find your tender moments, but you bet your trombone I won’t stop trying.

Love,

Mom