Happy birthday, my sweetheart!

I posted a birthday greeting to you on Facebook, and a couple of your friends’ parents (because Facebook is 50% stuff about our kids and 50% vaccine information) mentioned that they’re glad you’re a friend to their children. That made me feel so proud. After all the obstacles you and your peers have faced, with limited socialization opportunities through a pandemic, I’m glad that you’ve developed solid friendships. I know you’ve been supporting one friend in particular through a hard time, and I hope you’re getting the same kind of bolstering from your other friends.

Around the house, your social interaction is a mixed bag. You always seem to slip away from the dinner table as soon as you can, to the extent that it’s become a family joke. When you’re with us, though, you’re often a smart and funny contributor to family discussions. That’s one reason I hold our Saturday night family cocktail hour tradition so closely. We can’t always get everyone to stay in the same room for very long, but it’s a time when we hang out together with no ulterior motives: no lectures about grades or messy rooms or lack of trombone practice, no pressure to eat plants against your will. It’s a time to simply be together. I know as you get older it will be harder to make those occasions happen with regularity, but I will never stop enjoying them.

Booster shots for your age group were recently approved by the FDA and CDC, and as it happened, their first day of availability was a day school was cancelled due to inclement weather. That made it convenient to schedule an appointment for you, so we got that done quickly and easily. You did a little wiggle right as the practitioner was giving you the shot, so you bled more than expected, but it wasn’t a big problem. While I would never hope for a global pandemic, all these Pfizer shots have had an additional upside of greatly reducing needle-panic in you and your brothers. I used to be terribly freaked out by shots, to the extent that I thought I wouldn’t want an epidural during labor because it involved a shot. As it turns out, 13+ hours of labor on broken water and Pitocin make a person willing to accept just about anything to make it stop. This is why I’m sure I would give up any state secrets I knew if subjected to torture. Anyway, my point was that our family has faced very little shot-drama with all these vaccines. I’m so glad you and your brothers see the enormous benefit, not only to yourselves but to our extended family and society at large.

Look back at photos from your 13th birthday, I can see how much you’ve grown physically. You’re continuing to do a good job wearing your scoliosis brace and doing your Scroth physical therapy. I feel confident that we got started on those practices before your major growth spurt began. That’s lucky, because the first person who noticed it was your pediatrician at a regular physical, which we delayed by about six months due to the pandemic. I’m glad we were still able to catch it early and begin a treatment that will, in all likelihood, arrest the issue without the need for surgery. Also, I don’t know if you’re getting stronger or your exercise band is getting weaker, but you were in the middle of doing your lat pull-downs a few nights ago, and the thing snapped in two. It was loud enough (and our surprised shouts were loud enough) that people came down to check on us. It’s hard to know whether the bracing and PT are having a positive effect, but if they’re not, it’s not from any fault of yours. I really admire how well you’re sticking to your program. I’m part of a Facebook group for parents of kids with scoliosis, and I see so many reports of kids who whine and complain and won’t commit to their therapies. I think that you have the maturity to see that the payoff is worth the discomfort, much like vaccines.

You’re technically old enough to get your learner’s permit for driving now. You’ve expressed some interest in getting it, though I’m waiting for you to ask to take the concrete steps, like downloading the study manual and making an appointment to take the test. As your dad mentioned, spring would probably be a better time to do driving practice anyway, so I hope you’re not in too big a hurry. I’m going to have to start scouting out empty parking lots (Hancher on a weekend with no performances, maybe?) and quiet streets for practice sessions. I do not recommend wearing your kaleidoscope glasses while driving. Iowa City streets are weird enough as it is.

Your current favorites: flannel pajama pants, headphones (both noise-cancelling and mic-ed headset styles), pasta, Mario Maker, and chatting with your friends. You also enjoy making goofy, wide-eyed facial expressions every time I try to get a nice picture of you.

I’m so honored to have known you for your whole life, my dear child. Not every day has been easy, and I know I’ll look back on these recent years and wonder how we managed to get through them. But most of those challenges aren’t because of you. You have always had a good sense of integrity, and I see that in the way you care for your friends and brothers. Last weekend, you were playing poker with Mubby and Skitter, and you and Callum were playing as a “team.” I don’t know anything about poker, but I could easily see that you were being kind and patient with Callum. He didn’t always have the best judgment, but you didn’t yell at him or refuse to include him. It would be overly rosy to say that’s how things always go—Tobin in particular can really get to you. But most of the time, you’re calm and funny and nice to have around when you choose to join us. You know there’s always a place for you.

That’s what I want to be for you: a constant source of support, present even if it’s quietly in the background. Even if I can’t keep you at the dinner table, I always keep you in my mind and heart.

I love you and I am excited to get to know the person you’re becoming.

Love,

Mom