Dear Miles,

I didn’t love my sixth-grade experience. However, I do enjoy watching your sixth-grade experience. There’s talk of ‘ships and dirty words and being weird and a growing network of social castes. I’m happy to not be going through the turmoil of figuring out who I am and where I fit but it’s fun to watch you do it.

I think it’s especially fun because you seem so comfortable in who you are, who you are becoming. You are utterly fine with being utterly weird. That’s not even right. You are not just fine, you are psyched about being weird, different, not “normal” – whatever “normal” is.

You try hard at times to engage me in conversation that isn’t focused on video games. And I try my hardest to listen when you talk about video games. You’re good with your brother. You take care of his needs occasionally. It’s these little glimpses into independence that allow me to see how you’ve grown this year.

I’ve reached a point of deep peace with you. I see how good you are. I see how smart you are. I see how you are building social bonds. I see how you take care of yourself and your brother. I see how you take care of my feelings. I see how your logical brain builds a case for the things you want. I see how you positively you have responded to our change in discipline – AKA no punishment, instead ‘let’s talk this out’. I’m kind of in love with our family, with you, with your brother, with your father.

Here is one of my favorite conversations with you recently:

Me: Do you want to work out with me? It’s abs tonight.

You: Why would I want to do that?

Me (pondering for a moment): To attract a sexual partner some day?

You: I think I can do that with my personality.

 

I think you can too, bud, I think you can too.

Happy 12th Birthday!!!

Love,
Mom

 

Dear Will,

Another year. Another birthday. This birthday you turn 8!!!

 You are quite the character. The other night, Miles and I were watching videos of baby Will, and you have always, always been a jokester. Making faces for a laugh. This year, your timing and originality with jokes has really reached a new level. You often have us giggling or guffawing at the dinner table.

Your brilliant brain is used for good and also for evil. You haven’t quite figured out that punishments have gone away in our house. You have the most creative reasons for not doing things. “I’m full. Soft food makes me feel like I’m going to throw up. Can I have ice cream?” Brain. Explodes. From. This. Logic.

You are teetering on the edge of not wanting physical affection anymore. The other night I played a tickling game a lot longer than I wanted to just so I could stay cuddled up with you. Those times of physical closeness are fleeting now, slipping into the past as a new, more independent version of you emerges. But sometimes, if I’m lucky, I get an absent-minded hand holding as we cross a street or a request for a hug before the lights go out.

Dad feels like you’re grown. I feel like you’re still little. I know that you are also ambivalent about your position in the world – wanting both to reap the benefits of being the youngest who can’t really manage anything by himself and to be allowed the privileges of your older brother. You can’t have both a later bedtime and not be able to pour milk in your cereal bowl. Except some days you do get both. Some days, I’m happy to indulge your tendency toward needing help because I want to feel needed. And sometimes we let you stay up late because you are on the brink of being grown.

All I truly know is that I love you dearly, you add a good deal of joy to my life. You are nearly never the bane of my existence – 😊 “Mom said I’m annoying!!!” 😊

Love,

Mom