Dear Callum,

Subtraction is a problem. It’s not a mathematical challenge for you—in fact, we learned at your school conference that you’re excelling in math. The problem is that subtraction story problems hurt your heart. When you see a problem like 10-7, you whip out the answer quickly, but if seven fish swim away from the group of ten? That’s an issue. You get concerned about where they’re going, whether they’re coming back, whether their family misses them. I end up concocting backstories to assure you that they’re just out gathering worms to share with the others at the upcoming fish party.

You have similar trouble with throwing away leftovers. Even if it’s food you don’t like much, you can’t bear to see a plate with a few bites left scraped into the garbage. I don’t know where you got that Depression-era mentality, because you’ve never known a day of food scarcity in your life. Usually I can sneak it into the garbage when you’re not looking. That works okay, because you only very rarely ask to eat the leftovers you insist on saving (and it’s easy to predict that the half-slice of carrot cake is going to be higher-priority than the mixed vegetables). Still, I prefer not to lie to you about things like that. I’d rather you understood that if we stick the plate with two bites of food on it into the fridge, it takes up valuable space, and it keeps a plate we might need out of rotation. If we scrape the bites into another container, it means another item to wash later, which is a waste of water and energy resources. That logic doesn’t usually fly with you, though.

We were almost late for lunch today because you couldn’t manage to walk home from the park without picking up every pinecone. You really like to keep things.

In a way, it’s good that you’re doing online school this year, because it would not be fair to foist these issues onto a kindergarten teacher who has twenty other students’ academic and emotional challenges to address. Maybe it’s a symptom of COVID-times and the stress we’ve all been feeling, or maybe it’s something intrinsic in you that would have come up anyway. In any case, I hope it passes before you start first grade in person (fingers crossed).

Online school has been going great, though. You’re a mommy’s guy, so you’re happy to work through your assignments with me by your side. At your conference, your teacher asked what a good goal would be for you, and I said for you to be able to be more independent in your learning. Sometimes I think you see your teacher on the Zoom screen as a TV news anchor, not someone who can see you back. When she tells you to take out a piece of paper, if I’m not there to say, “Okay, take out a piece of paper,” you just sit there and stare at her. She suggested that you might do better if I step away, and she’s probably right—sometimes it’s hard for me to put aside academic goals (“What if he doesn’t get his paper out and practice writing the letter N? What will we do?”) and realize that gaining independence and following directions are just as important. Maybe that’s really a goal for me.

In any case, we’ve been having fun together. You especially enjoy your online science assignments. We’ve made papier maché bowls, rolled balls down ramps indoors and at the park, made balloon rockets, and woven paper strips to illustrated woven fabric. I’m having a great time doing them with you, and I so appreciate the work the teachers in your district did to prepare this curriculum. We’ve also been having a lot of fun doing online PE (balloon tennis with spatulas is your new favorite sport), music, and library. Your music teacher in particular is so kind and makes such an effort to connect with you. Throughout most of the year, you’ve felt too shy to participate in class much, but you’ve sent audio and video recordings to your teacher talking about what you most enjoyed and why. She always sends a thoughtful response, and you just light up when we listen to them. You’re getting braver about participating now, but having the asynchronous communication option worked really well for someone like you who is hesitant to jump into the cacophony of a bunch of un-muted kindergartners on Zoom.

After a stretch of really cold weather, we got lucky with a warm blast that lasted for about a week. We still had lots of snow on the ground, and the mud that comes with a thaw, but you had a lot of fun playing outside. Through your online P.E. lessons, you got interested in jumping rope. After a lot of practice in the house, you are getting pretty good at it, and you did well jumping rope on the sidewalk. I even included some footage for our upcoming Family Folk Machine video “Mr. Blue Sky.” It’s all about celebrating the joy of sunshine, and you have embodied that attitude lately.

I’ve noticed a real jump in your verbal development lately. Not only are you braver and chattier in school, but you’ve been employing a larger vocabulary and saying funny and precocious words and phrases. I’m sure you absorb a lot of them from your brothers, but other times, you say things that make you sound like a very short adult. Before a car ride yesterday, I reminded you to go to the bathroom. At that moment, the bathroom was occupied, so when I checked back with you later, I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten it done. I asked if you had, and you said, “I imagine you would know the answer to that, since you told me to go.” If someone older than kindergarten-age had said that to me, I might have been peeved, but it was so funny when you said it that all I could do was laugh and apologize for doubting you.

Your current favorites: anything cute, like cute animals or heart-shaped chocolates; “waffles how I always like them, extra butter, extra syrup, and Skitter Mix;” doing dramatic dance moves in the dining room; zackscottgames on YouTube; cute animal videos on TikTok; your stuffed animal collection; not throwing anything away; demanding that I take pictures of anything that is remotely appealing, such as cartoon animals on your school worksheets; and roughhousing with Tobin. Your big brothers are going to stay at Mubby and Skitter’s house for spring break week, and you chose to stay home with your dad and me. I know you’ll miss them, but you’ll probably also enjoy being an only child for the week. I wish we could do things like go to the Children’s Museum and Tot Time, but I know it won’t be long. Unfortunately, the forecast for the week is pretty bleak, so we probably won’t be able to spend much time at parks or on playgrounds. It might be fun to make one last snowman before the season is out, though.

You are a sweetheart in many ways. You’re losing your baby face, and when I look back at old pictures, I can hardly believe that soft, chubby pup is you. I’m so happy to be spending extra time with you this year, Callum. I know I’ll never regret it, sad though I may be about the circumstances that led to it. Scooping up an extra year with you is an honor, and even when I’m tired of playing balloon spatula tennis, I’m always happy that we’re together.

Love,

Mommy