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
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Bringing Home the Bacon
Dear Connor,
Last night, I made breakfast for dinner: egg sandwiches on toasted English muffins. And I never buy bacon--you know how big I am on healthy eating--but I was feeling indulgent so I also made bacon, real bacon, not even turkey bacon or soy bacon (is there such thing as soy bacon?). You and your siblings immediately smelled the bacon cooking in the oven and were soooo excited when you saw the plate of it when you came to the dinner table. You all took big happy bites of the bacon and you declared that it the best bacon you had ever had.
Later, when I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, you came in and asked me, "Do you know what the best part of dinner was?" Given all the enthusiasm over the pork fat, I naturally answered, "The bacon." You replied, "No, it was sharing my day with you." Aww! That was my favorite part, too, sweetie!
Love,
Mom
Last night, I made breakfast for dinner: egg sandwiches on toasted English muffins. And I never buy bacon--you know how big I am on healthy eating--but I was feeling indulgent so I also made bacon, real bacon, not even turkey bacon or soy bacon (is there such thing as soy bacon?). You and your siblings immediately smelled the bacon cooking in the oven and were soooo excited when you saw the plate of it when you came to the dinner table. You all took big happy bites of the bacon and you declared that it the best bacon you had ever had.
Later, when I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, you came in and asked me, "Do you know what the best part of dinner was?" Given all the enthusiasm over the pork fat, I naturally answered, "The bacon." You replied, "No, it was sharing my day with you." Aww! That was my favorite part, too, sweetie!
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Camp Mix-Up
Dear Connor,
I thought you started summer camp tomorrow. I was wrong. I discovered I was wrong when your bus counselor called me at 7:40 this morning and asked, "Hi, is Connor starting camp today? The bus is waiting outside your house." I was still in bed in my pajamas. You were still in bed in your pajamas. CRAP!!!!!!!!
I sputtered out a semi-coherent response to your bus counselor about how I got the dates mixed up, you weren't ready and the bus should go ahead without you. Then it was a mad dash to get you dressed, sunblocked and fed while I packed your camp bag and Daddy got ready and started the car to drive you to camp.
Whew, crazy morning! But you made it to camp and I hope you have a great first day!
Love,
Mom
P.S. After I wrote this post, I checked my old emails and the camp invoice they sent me back in April does state that the first day of your session is July 12. They put the wrong date on the invoice! They made the mistake, not me!
I thought you started summer camp tomorrow. I was wrong. I discovered I was wrong when your bus counselor called me at 7:40 this morning and asked, "Hi, is Connor starting camp today? The bus is waiting outside your house." I was still in bed in my pajamas. You were still in bed in your pajamas. CRAP!!!!!!!!
I sputtered out a semi-coherent response to your bus counselor about how I got the dates mixed up, you weren't ready and the bus should go ahead without you. Then it was a mad dash to get you dressed, sunblocked and fed while I packed your camp bag and Daddy got ready and started the car to drive you to camp.
Whew, crazy morning! But you made it to camp and I hope you have a great first day!
Love,
Mom
P.S. After I wrote this post, I checked my old emails and the camp invoice they sent me back in April does state that the first day of your session is July 12. They put the wrong date on the invoice! They made the mistake, not me!
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
Hand In Hand
Dear Connor,
You are turning 8 this fall (oh my god, 8!) and are pretty self-sufficient. You brush your teeth, shower and get ready for school and bed all on your own. You can pour your own bowl of cereal for breakfast in the mornings and when we go to restaurants, you go to the bathroom by yourself (unless it's a huge restaurant and the bathroom is way on the other side). If you spill a cup of milk, you get the paper towels and clean it up without needing my help. You are so big now but I am happy that you are still not too big for one particular thing: holding my hand.
When we go out, I am usually holding your younger siblings' hands or pushing DiDi in the stroller but during those rare times when my hands are free, you often grab one and hold on. It feels a little foreign at first because I am so used to holding your siblings' smaller hands and it reminds me that while DiDi and JieJie need more of my attention these days, you still need--and deserve--some, too. I am grateful for those moments when you and I can hold hands and for the fact that, as big as you are, you still like holding my hand.
Love,
Mom
You are turning 8 this fall (oh my god, 8!) and are pretty self-sufficient. You brush your teeth, shower and get ready for school and bed all on your own. You can pour your own bowl of cereal for breakfast in the mornings and when we go to restaurants, you go to the bathroom by yourself (unless it's a huge restaurant and the bathroom is way on the other side). If you spill a cup of milk, you get the paper towels and clean it up without needing my help. You are so big now but I am happy that you are still not too big for one particular thing: holding my hand.
When we go out, I am usually holding your younger siblings' hands or pushing DiDi in the stroller but during those rare times when my hands are free, you often grab one and hold on. It feels a little foreign at first because I am so used to holding your siblings' smaller hands and it reminds me that while DiDi and JieJie need more of my attention these days, you still need--and deserve--some, too. I am grateful for those moments when you and I can hold hands and for the fact that, as big as you are, you still like holding my hand.
Love,
Mom
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
Bra Check
Dear Connor,
One of the running gags in the Captain Underpants books is the way the main characters rearrange the letters on their school billboard so that it says something inappropriate. You were reading your newest Underpants book this morning and we had this resulting conversation:
You: Mommy, what is a "free bra inspection"?
Me: Uhhhh, I guess it's when you check girls' bras for free.
You: Check them for what?
Me: Ummm . . . bugs or dirt.
You: Oh.
Maybe I should be reading these Captain Underpants books first before I let you read them!
Love,
Mom
One of the running gags in the Captain Underpants books is the way the main characters rearrange the letters on their school billboard so that it says something inappropriate. You were reading your newest Underpants book this morning and we had this resulting conversation:
You: Mommy, what is a "free bra inspection"?
Me: Uhhhh, I guess it's when you check girls' bras for free.
You: Check them for what?
Me: Ummm . . . bugs or dirt.
You: Oh.
Maybe I should be reading these Captain Underpants books first before I let you read them!
Love,
Mom
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