Dear Connor: Six-and-a-Half

It never ceases to amaze me how much can change in just half a year. Since you started kindergarten, you’ve changed so much already.

100th Day of Kindergarten

You’ve lost several more teeth — eight in total, with only two adult teeth having grown in, which leaves you with quite the jack-o-lantern grin. You also requested a different haircut (and occasional faux-hawk styling), have gotten taller and skinnier, and are developing your own fashion sense.

Just recently, I decided that you should be able to get into your closet and choose your own clothes to wear, since you can reach them now, and I trust you not to go hide in the back of the closet. You’re gravitating toward “fancy” clothes, like collared button down shirts, and away from t-shirts and jeans. You even wanted to wear your black suit jacket to school one day, paired with athletic pants (because they weren’t jeans), and were disappointed when i vetoed your choice of outfit.

Connor at Stage 1 Swim Class

We’ll be going on our first real family vacation soon, and you’ll be taking your first airplane ride. When we ask you what you’re looking forward to the most about vacation, you always say two things: the airplane ride and swimming.

You’ve been taking swim lessons in preparation for our vacation, so your Dad and I won’t be freaked out over you being in the pool. At first, you were super scared to put your face underwater, but now you’re loving swim. You dunked your whole head underwater for the first time a couple weeks back, and you were so proud of yourself. Your after-class quotable was, “My scared is going away!”

The swim lessons won’t just be for vacation: the place we’re going to be sending you for day camp this summer will be taking daily field trips to the local swimming pool. We’ll probably put swimming lessons on hold while you’re going to the pool on a regular basis, then pick them back up again in the Fall.

Hayride, Fall 2017

You had kind of a rough start to kindergarten, behaviorally speaking. Impulsive behavior, not listening, and other issues. Between the school psychologist and your pediatrician, though, we got everything straightened out. Now you’re sitting with the rest of the class again (instead of having your own desk to keep you focused), and your friends are back to being your friends — especially your pal W, who kind of became your enemy for a while there. You’re also getting positive dojos from your teacher in ClassDojo every day, and very few negatives.

When you get no negative dojos in a week, Dad lets you choose a new video game to play. Your latest obsession is Metroid — you and Dad beat Super Metroid together, then you moved on to the first Metroid for Nintendo (which you hated, because it’s very unforgiving and doesn’t have save points), then Metroid 2, and now you’re playing Metroid Zero Mission on the Wii U.

Super Metroid To-Do List

I’m not sure exactly what your reading level is, but it’s definitely beyond your peers. You’re required to do fifteen minutes of “reading homework” every day after school, and you usually choose a Garfield book.

(You’re really into Garfield right now, to the point of not watching anything on TV except Garfield and Friends for weeks now, possibly months. I never thought I’d get tired of Garfield… but here we are.)

Reading Garfield

Even though I’m still really writing these blog posts for myself, and for Future Adult Connor, I might start letting you read them yourself sooner rather than later. It’s only fair that I let you know what I’m telling other people about you, I suppose… That way, once you get to be a moody tween, it won’t come as a complete and unjust shock to learn that I blogged about when Toddler Connor smeared poop all over the bedroom walls — not once, but twice.

I know I’ve said it before, but I really love the person you’re becoming. You always try to make others laugh. You always want to excel at whatever you do, and you’re getting better at staying focused and trying again. You have a vivid imagination. You love sitting on my lap and giving me hugs in the morning — then sliding down my legs and pretending to bonk your head on the floor. 🙂

I love you, buddy.

Watching TV in his beanbag chair

One thought on “Dear Connor: Six-and-a-Half

  1. Made me smile, remembering when your mom was your age. I would catch her, at night, under her covers, with a flash light, reading. She too loved Garfield, and made people smile.
    Grammy is so proud of you and the young man you are becoming, also of your mom and dad for the great job they are doing.
    So glad you got over your fear of swimming.
    I look forward to seeing you real soon.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *