Dear Tobin,

Sixth grade is continuing along well. While you’ve never had trouble making friends, this year has marked an especially big boom in socializing. You’re still close with you long-time friends, but you’ve also expanded your circle. It seems like every weekend you’re invited to a sleepover at a different friend’s house. You were begging and begging to host one, and since we hadn’t yet reciprocated the generosity of the families who hosted you, your dad and I relented. You had a long weekend off from school, so one of those nights, a few of your friends came over. You played soccer, hide-and-seek, and touch football in the park; ate pizza, chips, and Oreos; stayed up late shrieking; and had a good time all-around. You were really happy with how it went, and I’m sure we’ll be doing it again before sixth grade is out.

You’re a good brother, always ready to engage in active pursuits with Callum. He’s noticed you reading a lot lately and copied you, getting excited about a thick, challenging book. You included him really kindly in your sleepover, letting him hang out with you and your friends until bedtime. You told me that when Artemis had a sleepover, they didn’t let you hang out much, and it hurt your feelings. I read an adage somewhere that a good litmus test of character is whether pains of the past spur a person to expect others to suffer equally, or whether they spur a person to make the world better for others. I’m really proud that you’ve chosen the latter.

Soccer has been another big deal for you lately. You switched to a different team this year, one that includes a lot of your school friends, and you’ve been having a blast with it. Your team had been doing very well until the last couple of weeks, when you’ve had losses, but overall it’s been a great season. You love carpooling to practice with your friend Zach, scrimmaging and skill-building with your friends, and playing the games. You only have one game left this season, which is probably disappointing to you, but I’ll be glad to have soccer wrapped up. It’s only going to get chillier as we move through fall. Also, since Callum’s games are usually not at the same time as yours, it can make for a long day out at the soccer fields. I’m sure you’ll want to play again in the spring, though.

Although you’ve generally been an early-riser when left to your own internal clock, it’s been getting hard to wake you up in the morning. I fear you’re shifting to a teenage schedule of wanting to stay up late and sleep in late. In our school district, secondary school starts an hour later than elementary school, so next year your timeframe will be different. Even when you were a baby and toddler, it was very difficult to wake you up before your body was ready. I remember needing to wake you up early from a nap many days when it was time to go pick up your sibling from school, and I quickly learned that I needed to build in a ten-minute buffer. If I tried to maximize your sleep by letting you continue your nap until the last minute, there was hell to pay. You needed at least ten minutes to just sit there and be grumpy before I could even talk to you.

You’re not quite as much of a turd upon waking up these days, but it’s still a challenge. Your dad handles that task most mornings while I’m packing lunches for you and your siblings. Now and then I am the one who does it, and it always amazes me how challenging it is to get you out of bed. Once the parent in charge finally succeeds, you go straight to the couch and sleep some more. I go over and ask you whether you want your usual cereal for breakfast, and you murmur a yes. I pour your cereal and milk and go back to tell you it’s ready, but you’re always fast asleep again. Then either your dad or I has the job of prying you off the couch. Once we’re successful in that, you eat your breakfast and get dressed. Most days, I then find you asleep in Callum’s bed, fully dressed and ready for school, but happy to nap for a while longer while Callum finishes getting ready.

When you’re not sleeping, playing soccer, or hanging with your friends, you enjoy being part of science experiments. I frequently receive invitations for various paid research endeavors, and whenever you’re eligible to be a subject, you want to do it. You’ve crossed simulated roads while virtual reality cars are passing, you’ve had electrodes measuring your brain waves as you hear different sounds, and you’re part of a longitudinal study about how kids read and learn language. The most recent one you’re doing is part of a study researching the genetic elements of intelligence. You and I both filled out surveys and spit into tubes so they scientists could learn about our genes. You got invited back to the second stage of the study, which involves having your vital signs taken, participating in an interview, and taking a test. The third stage, which is optional, involves an MRI. I don’t know if you’ll be invited to participate in that or even if you’ll want to, but I’m sure the compensation will be part of your decision-making process. You love getting the paychecks and gift cards that come of these experiences. I love being a part of science that could help future generations be safer, healthier, and happier.

Your current favorites: The Percy Jackson book series (and its spin-offs) by Rick Riordan, online gaming with your friends, hanging out with friends after school, sleepovers, soccer, helping cook, and sneaking naps on various soft surfaces throughout the house.

You’re a hoot, a joy, and a big source of smiles. Your mouth always has something enthusiastic and energetic to say, even if your dad wishes you would eat more quietly. It doesn’t bother me, and I’m glad you approach every facet of life with gusto.

Love,

Mom