Dear Tobin,

It has been a heck of a month.  The biggest deal is that we sort of moved.  Our house addition/renovation project starts today, so over the weekend, we moved into our friends’ house.  They’re out of the country, so we’re house-sitting for them while big changes happen at our home.  You’ve been a great helper through the process, always ready to pitch in and provide your trademark enthusiasm.  Last night you helped your dad get the TV set up, and you got a seating area arranged and organized a family viewing of one of the YouTube shows you and your dad like to watch together.  It was surprisingly educational and engaging, about Hong Kong’s housing market and the unusual political and economic situation there that forces people to live in parking-space-sized “cage homes” for exorbitant prices.

Except for in the morning when you have to wake up sooner than you wish, you’re a person who likes action and activity, and I think having a project and goal like that was good for your psyche.  It made you feel like you were helping our family’s efforts in our new space (much nicer than a cage home) and establishing some new traditions.

Our “new” house is near Hickory Hill Park, so even though you won’t have as easy of access to our backyard park this spring and summer, you’ll still have lots of good opportunities for outdoor exploration.  You’ll also continue taekwondo and basketball for a while, and then you’ll play baseball this summer.  You’ve expressed interest in the Filmscene animation camp that Miles does, which fortunately is separated by age group, so you won’t attend the same session.  I say “fortunately” because you two can get a bit competitive, and I could see some squabbles if you were forced to work together in a creative environment.  Another possibility is the sports camp you went to last summer with your friend Ben.  Ben won’t be available to do it with you this year, because he’s the one who’s out of the country and letting us use his house.  Another friend expressed interest in doing it with you, though, so maybe that’s how it will work out.

In line with your interest in earning money, a new thing you tried recently was your first paying job (besides the couple of bucks you scam off your dad and me now and then for doing unnecessary and unrequested chores).  You were the subject of a research experiment in the Psychology department at the University.  At first you were disappointed because we thought it was going to be a virtual reality study like Miles did a while ago, and it turned out not to be.  Once you got there, though, you really dug in and enjoyed it.  The researcher asked you to look at a series of pictures and rate how safe the kid in the pictures was being as he performed different tasks.  Then I rated the same pictures, and after that, we looked at them together and discussed how safe or unsafe the activity was.  I think the point was to see whether kids are more or less inclined to risk-taking when they’re away from their parents.  Of course, you never know for sure in these situations if they’re actually studying what they tell you they’re studying, but in any case, you felt very important.  You got a $15 gift card for your effort.  You immediately wanted to go and spend it, but you decided just to buy some chips and gum for the time being and save up more earnings for a larger purchase down the road.

We had a fun trip to the theater earlier in the month.  As per our usual tradition, I bought theater tickets for you, Miles, and me for Christmas, and the time came to use them.  We saw A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder at Theatre Cedar Rapids.  I wasn’t sure if you’d love it—that sort of thing is really more Miles’s bag than yours—but you had a great time.  It was funny and high-action and featured some very talented performers.  We had a terrible time finding parking, since unbeknownst to me the performance we attended coincided with a big concert in the same area.  We slid into our seats just in time to catch our breaths before the lights went down, and we all enjoyed it a lot.  I suppose I should start including Callum in these outings, but it’s hard to find a show that would appeal to such a wide age range.

When we moved into the loaner house, you were excited to have your own room.  At home, all three of you sleep in the same room (by choice–Miles has his own room but chooses to join you and Callum when bedtime arrives.  I don’t think you made it even half an hour by yourself the first night before you decided you wanted to come in and share Callum’s single bed with him.  Yesterday, I moved the other single mattress into Miles and Callum’s room, but the only way it fit was at the foot of Miles’s bed.  You seemed okay with that, but you asked me if it was okay if you moved back into Callum’s bed after I was done getting him to bed.  I said that was all right, but by the time Callum was asleep, you had fallen asleep too.  You had arranged yourself so that your body was on your own bed, but your head was overlapping onto Callum’s mattress.  I asked your dad if you were still in that position when he woke you up for school this morning, and he said you were.  I’m glad you feel safe and secure with your brothers, and it doesn’t bother me a bit if you guys want to stay together.  Despite your daytime squabbles, you always come together when it’s time to be cozy.

Your current favorites:  pizza, basketball (especially the hoop outside our loaner house), video games, the Cam Jansen book series, blowing bubbles with gum, talking about our vacation plans, and making noise every single second you’re awake.

You’re hilarious, exhausting, smart, and energetic.  You’re eight-and-a-half now, which is pretty crazy, but I know we’re going to have a wonderful spring and summer to enjoy the second half of your eighth year.  A month from now, this post will be full of pictures from our Florida Keys trip (hopefully—I did buy trip insurance this time in case coronavirus shuts down the airport or something).  You’re my great adventure buddy, and I’m so excited to do more exciting things with you.

Love,

Mom