Dear Connor,
You have a history of doing crazy stuff while sleepwalking. A few years ago, you woke up, grabbed a handful of your colored pencils and just stood next to my bed with them (and yes, that was creepy for me when I woke up and saw you like that). A couple months ago, you took your blanket, put it in the hamper and then came complaining to me that you didn't have a blanket. And now it seems that you have graduated from sleepwalking to sleepshowering. This past Saturday night, you and your siblings were all asleep and in bed and I was watching TV in my bed. You came to my door (which was closed) and were crying that you were freezing. I knew your bedroom space heater was on and I told you to put on another shirt if you were still cold. You just kept crying and shouting, "I'm freezing! I'm FREEZING!" I sighed, got out of bed and opened my bedroom door to find you on the other side, completely wet and completely naked! You had apparently gotten out of bed, taken your pajamas off, gone to the bathroom and taken a shower! In your sleep!
The next morning, you had no recollection of getting up and showering and you had no idea why you had done it. Craziness!
Love,
Mom
Monday, October 21, 2019
Saturday, September 7, 2019
You're Nine Years Old!
Dear Connor,
You started fourth grade this past Thursday and among the multiple copies of the annoying blue emergency contact form that I hate filling out every year was a new form asking if I grant permission for you to walk home from school on your own this year. You are now considered old enough to walk home by yourself. Wait, what? And, um, no. Even if your school is ready to let you go out on your own, I'm not! However, I do know that I will have to be ready soon--you turned NINE years old today!
Happy birthday to my creative, artistic, insightful boy! I love seeing all of the creations you make out of Legos and Keva planks and am genuinely impressed with your drawings, which far surpass anything I could ever make (I don't even buy birthday cards anymore because I will tell you what the birthday kid likes--mermaids, Paw Patrol, the Hulk--and you will draw an amazing card for the child). You notice a lot of things most kids wouldn't, are still as curious as ever and always ask dozens of questions about everything. You are helpful (the other night, I was in bed and asked you to bring my water bottle upstairs; you did and even made sure to put it close to me on my nightstand so I wouldn't have to reach too far for it) and empathetic (when you accompanied me to my doctor's appointment last month, I had to get three shots and you told me, "I'm really sorry you have to get so many needles today."). Your most defining feature, though, is how much you LOVE to read. Daddy and I have dozens of our childhood chapter books in the study and you have read every single one at least once; you have read your favorites multiple times. I see you reading constantly and often have to actually yell at you to stop reading because you're supposed to be getting dressed for school, washing up for dinner, brushing your teeth before bedtime, etc. You devoured the Harry Potter series and love it so much that you constantly carry whichever book you're re-reading everywhere around the house. Last year, your teacher would send photos of your class and instead of posing for the camera (or, ahem, doing the project or assignment), you would have your head down, reading a book in your lap. I love how much you love to read! In fact, when Daddy and I asked you what you wanted to do for your birthday this year, we suggested different things--Dave & Busters, Laser Bounce, Bounce Trampoline Sports--but you said that all you wanted to do was go to the library and get books!
This summer, I started noticing more "tween" behavior from you. When I say "I love you" to you as you head out the door, you sometimes respond with a perfunctory "okay" instead of echoing the words back to me--if you even respond at all. You like to walk five feet ahead or behind Daddy and me when we're out. When we're arguing about something, you scream oh-so-common tween phrases as me, such as "You're so mean!" and "I wish I'd never been born!" But I still see signs of my little boy in you. You ask me to sit next to you when we go to restaurants (which, sadly, doesn't always happen because your younger siblings want to sit next to me, too). At bedtime, you always request that I come into your room and say good night to you. You still like it when we do our secret handshake goodnight routine. You told me the other day that you believe Toy Story is true and that all of your stuffed animals come alive when no humans are around. When I said I wanted to take a picture with just you and me today since it was your birthday, you look genuinely pleased and insisted that "it's just Mommy and me" when your sister tried to jump in the photo, too. And you still call me "Mommy" versus the more grown-up "Mom."
I know I will only see more adolescent behaviors replacing the little-boy behaviors, so I will remember to enjoy the latter while I still can. And I hope that you will hold onto your young innocence and sweetness for a little while longer and not start calling me "Mom" too soon. Happy birthday, sweetheart!
Love,
Mommy
Happy birthday to my creative, artistic, insightful boy! I love seeing all of the creations you make out of Legos and Keva planks and am genuinely impressed with your drawings, which far surpass anything I could ever make (I don't even buy birthday cards anymore because I will tell you what the birthday kid likes--mermaids, Paw Patrol, the Hulk--and you will draw an amazing card for the child). You notice a lot of things most kids wouldn't, are still as curious as ever and always ask dozens of questions about everything. You are helpful (the other night, I was in bed and asked you to bring my water bottle upstairs; you did and even made sure to put it close to me on my nightstand so I wouldn't have to reach too far for it) and empathetic (when you accompanied me to my doctor's appointment last month, I had to get three shots and you told me, "I'm really sorry you have to get so many needles today."). Your most defining feature, though, is how much you LOVE to read. Daddy and I have dozens of our childhood chapter books in the study and you have read every single one at least once; you have read your favorites multiple times. I see you reading constantly and often have to actually yell at you to stop reading because you're supposed to be getting dressed for school, washing up for dinner, brushing your teeth before bedtime, etc. You devoured the Harry Potter series and love it so much that you constantly carry whichever book you're re-reading everywhere around the house. Last year, your teacher would send photos of your class and instead of posing for the camera (or, ahem, doing the project or assignment), you would have your head down, reading a book in your lap. I love how much you love to read! In fact, when Daddy and I asked you what you wanted to do for your birthday this year, we suggested different things--Dave & Busters, Laser Bounce, Bounce Trampoline Sports--but you said that all you wanted to do was go to the library and get books!
This summer, I started noticing more "tween" behavior from you. When I say "I love you" to you as you head out the door, you sometimes respond with a perfunctory "okay" instead of echoing the words back to me--if you even respond at all. You like to walk five feet ahead or behind Daddy and me when we're out. When we're arguing about something, you scream oh-so-common tween phrases as me, such as "You're so mean!" and "I wish I'd never been born!" But I still see signs of my little boy in you. You ask me to sit next to you when we go to restaurants (which, sadly, doesn't always happen because your younger siblings want to sit next to me, too). At bedtime, you always request that I come into your room and say good night to you. You still like it when we do our secret handshake goodnight routine. You told me the other day that you believe Toy Story is true and that all of your stuffed animals come alive when no humans are around. When I said I wanted to take a picture with just you and me today since it was your birthday, you look genuinely pleased and insisted that "it's just Mommy and me" when your sister tried to jump in the photo, too. And you still call me "Mommy" versus the more grown-up "Mom."
I know I will only see more adolescent behaviors replacing the little-boy behaviors, so I will remember to enjoy the latter while I still can. And I hope that you will hold onto your young innocence and sweetness for a little while longer and not start calling me "Mom" too soon. Happy birthday, sweetheart!
Love,
Mommy
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Zero for One Hundred
Dear Connor,
Tomorrow is the 100th day of school and you just told me an hour ago that you are supposed to make a shirt with 100 of something on it. What now? Yeah, that's not happening.
Love,
Mom
Tomorrow is the 100th day of school and you just told me an hour ago that you are supposed to make a shirt with 100 of something on it. What now? Yeah, that's not happening.
Love,
Mom
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