Dear Miles,

It’s been a month of ups and downs. Some days you seem cheerful and engaged, and other days you’ll barely talk to us. It’s not entirely surprising. Ever since you were a little kid, you’ve been disinclined to share your thoughts and feelings about anything serious. Adding the physical and mental challenges that come with teenagerhood only compounds the issue. Even worse, it’s been a year with far fewer than normal opportunities to spend time with friends. You do a lot of online friend hangouts, but there’s nothing that can replace actual human interaction. Fortunately, now that you’re fully vaccinated, we’re getting more formal activities onto your schedule. Before we know it, the summer will be over and you’ll be heading back to school.

I understand the urge toward being a hermit. I lean that way myself. Sometimes I have to force myself to get out and do things because I know it’s good for me in the long-term. As your mom, it’s my job to push you that way until you know yourself well enough to recognize those needs. It’s kind of like exercise. I never truly feel in the mood to go for a run or lift weights, but after I’m done, I always feel better. I also notice a negative impact on my mood when I go a few days without exercise. The trick is to see past my immediate desire for sloth and see what helps future me. That’s a difficult concept to master, and I hope I can help you find your way to long-range thinking.

A highlight of the month was a theater camp you attended. It was an audition workshop with the goal of preparing you for future school and community theater auditions. You seemed to enjoy it, and you were generally pleasant when your dad or I picked you up after each day. Later this month, you have a couple of weeks of school orientation that’s recommended for students who were online last year. It’s optional, but I signed you up, in part because it will force you to leave your room for a couple of hours a day during that time period. Later in August you have your favorite FilmScene camp, and that’s all day every day for a week. I hope it’s a good experience—it always has been in the past, and this is the last year you’ll be eligible. I’m really happy that you’re able to attend. Your dad suggested asking into becoming a junior counselor or some kind of intern next summer, and I think that would be a great role for you.

We’re planning to redo your bedroom soon. The loft bed we got you a while back never quite worked out for you. It’s going to be a lot of work to disassemble it, clear out the room, find some other place for your computer and other things you have on the build-in desk, and move the new bed in, but I hope it becomes a place you enjoy sleeping. Your dad’s really been pushing for that, which is kind of weird considering he’s the one who is most worried about you not leaving your room enough. Tobin is all for it too, since right now all three of you boys sleep in the bunk bed. The lower level is a full-sized bed, so technically there’s room for both Tobin and Callum, but Tobin wants to move to the top bunk for more personal space. I’ve always found it kind of sweet that you like being in there with your brothers, but I also understand Tobin’s dilemma.

I’m hoping I can get your enthused about it by involving you in the process of picking out new bedding and arranging the space. You’ve always enjoyed being part of the planning—you’re not crazy about surprises and like to have an understanding of things. I asked you what color duvet cover you want to get, and you suggested red. My first instinct was to say that would look awful against your lime-green wall, but it’s been a year when you’ve heard no a lot. This may be a place to put my personal aesthetics aside. Besides, duvet covers are easy to replace. Maybe we could find a reversible one with a different color on the other side. See this space next month for an update on what you chose and how it all turned out.

As I look through pictures from this month, I see that you’ve shared some smiles. Sometimes it’s hard to remember anything other than the most recent event, you were glummer than usual at last night’s family cocktail hour. After dinner and some time by yourself in your room, you accepted my invitation to watch a couple of episodes of the Simpsons together. That’s something both of us truly enjoy, and most of the rest of the family joined us. It was good to hear you laugh. I guess everybody has moods sometimes, and you’ve always been a bit of a stormy character. I see other parents of kids your age expressing frustration and concern just like I’m feeling, so I know we’re not alone in this. We’re having plenty of good times, and I know we have more ahead of us.

Your current favorites: doughnuts, pasta, Pixar films (especially Luca and the new Monsters Inc. shows), your Instagram story that you fill with inanity, Minecraft, sleeping late, rolling your eyes at your dad’s and my jokes, and trying to get away with eating as few fruits and vegetables as possible. I think you did eat some of the strawberries pictured below. You definitely helped pick a lot of them, and though you probably wouldn’t admit it, you had fun in the process.

I love you, Miles, and as I remind you all the time, nothing you could ever say or do would make me stop. I think it annoys you how much I tell you that, but I figure it’s better for you to know too much than to not be sure.

Enjoy your upcoming adventures. I’ll be cheering you on from a sufficient distance as to not humiliate you.

Love,

Mom