Dear Miles,

You are simultaneously the most social and most isolated you’ve ever been. You never leave the house, except occasional trips to the balcony and the backyard when family membership requires it. I don’t remember the last time you saw any of your friends in person. And yet, you have developed a robust online social life with school friends, some of whom you knew before this wild year and some of whom are new friends. You’ve gotten involved with Geek Club, which is mostly the same kind of online gaming you do on all the afternoons when Geek Club doesn’t meet, except with a faculty sponsor involved. I hear your laughter leaking out from under your closed bedroom door often.

You are currently the kid in our family who is most likely to go back to school in person in the fall, and I really hope it’s a good experience for you. As of the writing of this post, Pfizer has requested that the FDA approve their COVID vaccine for twelve-to-fifteen-year-olds, because their testing has proven it safe and effective. I showed you the article describing that situation because I knew you’d be excited to hear it. You were, and you were also surprised to find out how Pfizer is spelled. I guess you don’t read the news obsessively on that topic the way I do.

Your dad has had both his shots now, and I’ve had one, and your all your grandparents are now fully immunized. While I am not crazy about the idea of sending unvaccinated kids to school, it’s a relief to know that you will probably not be among them. Now let’s hope that the vaccine is approved for younger kids as well. Honestly, your brothers have surprised me with their ability to keep masks on when we’re out and about, but an entire school day would be a big challenge. Infection rates are rising here and elsewhere, and a doctor friend told me she thinks it’s being driven by younger people, including kids in school. It’s a constant source of stress for all of us, and you definitely feel it. I will be refreshing the vaccine appointment finder websites frantically as soon as we get the green light for your age group.

Last night we had a “scrounge night” dinner, and Callum requested popcorn, so I made a big batch. We were all snacking on it, along with some cheese slices and grapes and carrots. You asked if you could take a bowl to your room, and I said no, because your track record with dirty socks does not give me confidence in your ability to keep the popcorn in the bowl. You ate one bowl really fast while standing in the kitchen, then disappeared back to your room. I think that’s the only dinner you ate. I swear I make a variety of foods available to you, and I usually enforce that you eat at least one plant at dinner. But last night, it all happened so fast, I couldn’t squeeze any carrots into your face.

You still show up for family cocktail hour, which is often the time I hear most about your thoughts and interests. The other time is when I can hear your end of conversations with your friends. I just overheard you say, “It’s not a cult, it’s just a dedicated group. Very dedicated.” And a moment later, “Yeah, well, technically, bananas are berries, but does anyone consider them berries? You’re in the banana-berry cult.” I guess that’s demonstrating some critical thinking skills, which are important in cult avoidance.

Even though you spend most of your free time (virtually) with your friends, Callum can still count on you to have fun playing with him. The best part of having a little brother is that you have an excuse to indulge your kid side. The early teen years are such at time of change and identity-seeking, it’s nice that you still consider playing with Cal to be an okay thing to do. As you get older, you’ll get busier, and I truly hope you can be involved with extracurricular activities that require leaving the house. In the meantime, though, it’s nice that you get opportunities to see the little guy and be a pretend knight with him. Swords and guns are not something I prefer to purchase for you kids, but Callum is a crafting nut, and we have ended up with a lot of cardboard weaponry around the house. Thanks for using it with him, because I’m certainly not going to.

Your current favorites: the eternal pasta with tomato sauce, waffles, The Simpsons, Minecraft, chatting with your friends, and barely leaving your room. I’m glad you like the Pixar gummy vitamins I got, because you might get deficient in vitamin D if you didn’t take supplements. Now that nicer weather is showing up more often, maybe I can drag you out to have lunch on the balcony now and then. It’s my favorite part of our home renovation, and I look forward to many good memories with my family there.

You are invited. You are always invited, even if you decline nine times out ten. There will always be a stool for you at the backyard bar.

Love,

Mom