Friday, March 30, 2012

Happy Month 79 Months, Connor!

Dear Connor,

Oh boy, do I have some explaining to do. Seems as if my hiatus from monthly letters for you has been even longer than for your sister. The last time I wrote a letter to you, you had just turned 6. And now? You've left 6.5 in the dust and are cruising to 7.

When last we touched base, I was thrilled to be dumping the "teach Connor to read" job off onto a professional. It has worked. You are a reader. You've finally made it through the stage of "do I have to?" when it's time to read to the stage of having multiple books on your nightstand with bookmarks in them. It's not all that uncommon to see you reading when you're waiting on something. And occasionally, you try and read by nightlight. If you didn't share a room with Helen, I'd designate some before sleep solo reading time for you, but I can't figure out how to make it work with her in the room.

You love your sister, but you also enjoy testing out unkind acts on her. You'll use a very stern voice with her. You'll make rules for games that make it so she cannot possibly win. You've even been known to push her on occasion. But still, she has a great memory for all the nice things you do because she is the first person to step to your defense. She always wants to share with you. And clearly, she adores you. I would still rate your relationship better than most, but wow does it hurt my heart when you're not nice to her.

For the most part, you're cruising through the year. We hit a rough spot a couple of months ago where you clearly felt like you never got to do anything you wanted and you were always being told what to do. This is hard for me, Connor, because I know how truly easy your life is. But your perspective is different than mine, and we seem to have found a nice compromise. Naturally, you showed none of this side of yourself at school. I know, because I asked. Predictably, your teacher was absolutely shocked when I told here you were driving me crazy. Because you? You are the sweetest boy in the world.

You still love math, and you love your extra math class at school. You do not, however, love it enough that you will be enrolling in the summer program that your teacher is recommending you for. I've heard mixed reviews about the level of fun vs. academic structure and I think you're better off running around this summer than doing anything else.

You are the chief pizza dough roller, which is a super useful skill. Helen pats the dough into a circle, and then you take a small wooden roller and roll perfectly delightful, thin crusts. We then pile on sauce and whatever else we can find in the refrigerator and pizza is born. A few nights ago, you surprised your dad by rolling out extra pizza dough into flatbread. It was delicious.

Soccer has captured your attention and you've started learning how to play t-ball on a team. The team is mostly younger children because it's for either Kindergarten or first-timers. I guess most people start t-ball in Kindergarten. It seems like the coach is interested in having fun though, so this should be a good time. You can now throw a ball accurately more than half the time. However, you had a "great idea" a couple of weeks ago and told me you didn't need me to practice baseball because you could just throw a ball at the screened-in-porch and it would bounce back to you. Thankfully, you told me of your discovery before ruining our porch.

You enjoy sword fighting and love the nerf gun your grandparents bought you in Utah. For the record, they did call me when you fell in love with this toy to see if it was OK. I felt you needed a "win", so you got the gun. Not surprisingly, it can cause trouble, and as I type, the gun is resting after a particularly troublesome display a few weeks ago.

You've settled into a nice group of friends and seem to look forward to seeing them. I think it's nice that your class seems to have bonded so well. You've also announced a few times who you will marry. She's a nice girl, but I'm guessing you'll both change and grow a lot over the next 20 years.

For the most part, you make good decisions. And that is a very comforting thing for me. If you run ahead of me, you stop at the corner. Occasionally, your dad or I send a treat in your lunch and you always eat the rest of your lunch first, often bringing the treat home for after school saying you didn't have time to finish it.

Board games and other games with rules are still a big hit. I get a little fatigued from these games, but maybe soon you and Helen will learn how to play bridge. That would be fantastic.

You're my charming little guy and it is nearly impossible for me to believe how much you are changing and growing. I wouldn't trade you for any other. We were meant to be together.



  1. sweet letter. What wonderful memories this will be when he reads it when he is older.

  2. I need someone to teach me to play bridge. Want the job Connor?

  3. Delicious! And, so happy they've all learned to stop at the edge of a street. Relief.

  4. I can't believe it has been 79 MONTHS. When you say it like that it seems like such a long time.