Dear Callum,

The other night I realized it was your half-birthday.  I didn’t think of it until nearly bedtime, and when I told you, you thought we ought to have a celebration.  You didn’t buy my explanation that having (coincidentally) had one of your favorite dinners that night, steak, counted as your celebration.  To that end, we ordered some special groceries and made a treat to your specifications:  a mint-chocolate-chip ice cream cake with an Oreo crust and decorated with additional Oreos and chocolate drizzle.  Unfortunately, the chocolate drizzle didn’t work very well, as it melted the cake as soon as it hit it, but it all tasted good.  Since Miles’s half-birthday had just passed as well, you agreed that he could share in the glory.

You certainly haven’t been short on treats here at Mubby and Skitter’s.  You’ve had Popsicles galore.  You discovered a love for the crystallized, half-melted and refrozen bomb pops that had been in the freezer since Christmas.  I bought a fresh batch, but you still preferred the old ones.  Those are all gone now, but fortunately Skitter picked up some frozen fruit bars that you also really like.  You finished one out on the back patio just a little bit ago, and Mubby was trying to clean you up with the garden hose.  Your shirt got wetter than you’d hoped, which led to great sadness, and then you took off your shirt and started swinging it around in the air.

Tobin’s new nickname for you is “Drama King,” and you’ve been living up to it lately.  No tiny injury is superficial enough for you to decline an ice pack.  The other night you fell on your arm, and judging by your howls, Mubby was afraid you’d dislocated your shoulder or done something equally serious.  I was skeptical, since I know your M.O., but you were really sobbing.  You asked for one hundred kisses.  Usually you’ll accept a loose interpretation of “one hundred,” when I just give you a big flurry of kisses and a hug.  Not that night.  I had to give you a literal hundred (I did ten sets of ten), and even after that you weren’t satisfied.  You said you needed a thousand.  I don’t think I got that far, but I did give you hugs, ibuprofen, and a cold washcloth.  You sighed heavily, leaned against me, and said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Anyway, your arm was fine.  Tobin let you watch him play on the Switch, and you got over it pretty fast.

It’s been hot out, which means you’ve been doing a lot of water play.  Skitter often needs to use the sprinkler to water the garden anyway, and he kindly positions it so you can get wet too.  You and Tobin are the two who most enjoy playing in the water, and it often leads to some sort of fight, but you have some fun along the way too.  As we look ahead to the upcoming school year and all the uncertainty that looms, I’m so grateful that you have your brothers.  You’re used to not always getting what you want, to dealing with the egos and needs of others, and the frustration of not being able to keep up.  I know your brothers think you always win out because you’re the baby of the family, but in many ways you’re more socially prepared for school than Miles was at your age.  Even if you don’t have the experience of being plunked into a classroom full of other kindergartners, you still have logged plenty of hours with other kids.

We’re supposed to find out in a couple of days what the school district is planning for a fall schedule.  Sadly, coronavirus cases continue to rise in the U.S. and in Iowa specifically, and there’s no way the school year is going to start how we would typically expect.  I’ve heard a few different plans bandied about, including full-time face-to-face education, certain days or blocks face-to-face with some kids at school and others doing distance-learning and then swapping, and full-time distance education.  No solution is perfect, and I don’t envy the teachers and administrators who are going to have a huge workload and undoubtedly imperfect results.  As your dad has noted, this is an unprecedented situation, and expecting a perfect solution for every scenario is unfair and unrealistic.  There may be an element of parental choice, and my top priority is to keep you kids and your classmates and teachers safe.  That might mean that you don’t go to kindergarten how we thought you would.  That’s a bummer, but it would be an even bigger bummer to see COVID-19 sweep through your school.

Your current favorites:  pizza, steak, dancing like Napoleon Dynamite, playing Switch with your brothers, Zackscottgames on YouTube, lying in the grass, catching fireflies with Mubby, feeding the fish in Skitter’s pond, and having “secret drink” (Skitter Mix + a squirt of lemon juice from a plastic squeeze lemon).  You have a lot of bug bites from all the time you’ve been spending outside, and you have a lot of curls from declining my special haircuts.

You’re dramatic, tender, contemplative, and sweet.  I like how often you’re shirtless lately because I love to kiss your smooth little shoulders.  I can see why the mosquitoes find you so appealing.

Love,

Mommy