dianaschnuth

Dear Connor,

When you were an infant, I would write one of these Dear Connor blog entries every month, to record your milestones and capture the moments that I knew would go by so fast. After you turned three, I started only writing these entries twice a year, on your birthday and on your half-birthday. Once you turned seven, the updates became yearly; and once the pandemic happened, they kind of stopped entirely.

Which is really too bad, because you certainly haven’t stopped changing.

You become more and more yourself as time goes on, and it’s fun to watch. You have good days and bad days, just like anyone does, but it worries me sometimes when the bad days are because of other people’s reactions to you being your fun, silly self. I remember being at the age where it felt like everyone expected me to be something or someone I wasn’t, and I hope your sense of self is strong enough that you can make it through those years relatively unscathed.

I’m not always thrilled with your sense of humor, though, to be honest. I’m not sure whether I prefer the “your mom” jokes from earlier in the year over the latest trend of “deez nuts” jokes, since they’re both highly inappropriate (which is what makes them funny, I know). At least the “deez nuts” jokes are more creative? Either one has the potential to get you in big trouble, though, especially at school. Just sayin.’

One thing I’m definitely not down with is your penchant for making goofy faces in photos. Half of our vacation photos — our first post-pandemic vacation, and kind of A Big Deal — involve you making some kind of silly expression. Just this morning, I was so excited to open the email from Lifetouch that said your school photos were ready… and I got this:

I was kind of pissed.

Retakes are October 6th, FYI.

You’ve grown at least two inches a year for the past three years, and I finally had to start sewing you some new pajama pants — not only are your old pants turning into high-waters, but they’re also getting tight in the hip and the waist. You’ve managed to squeeze one last summer out of your pajama shorts from years past, but there’s no way they’re going to fit next year.

This spring, we decided to see if you could sit comfortably in the car without your booster seat — and, sure enough, your knees reached the end of the seat just fine. It’s kind of a Big Deal when you think about it. The end of an era.

You’re definitely on the cusp of puberty. In some ways, you’re full-on pubertizing, but not totally. I’d been expecting you to open your mouth one of these mornings and your voice have dropped an octave overnight, but it’s been slowly changing (and cracking) over the past several months.

Your homeroom teacher for 5th grade, who also teaches Social Studies and ELA (English Language Arts), asked the parents to write her a letter introducing their child.

I could have written a full-on dissertation; to avoid being THAT mom, I decided to use the paper and envelope she provided, instead of sending an email.

• 

• 

The things I thought would be most useful for her to know about you:

1. You have a tendency to rush through boring tasks, especially if you get to do something more interesting when you’re done. Sometimes this means you have to do the boring thing over again.
2. You have a very rich vocabulary, and you’re a very good reader. However, sometimes you don’t fully absorb what you’ve read, especially if you’ve rushed through it just to get it done.
3. You know that you’re smart, and you tend to think you know more than you do. (Everyone is like that at some point — it’s called the Dunning-Kruger Effect, where you don’t know what you don’t know, so you think you know it all.) When you find out that you don’t know something, or that you aren’t good at it the first time you try it, you tend to move on to something else instead of trying again. Not-knowing is uncomfortable, whether it’s riding a bike, building a battlebot, or knowing what the day’s schedule will be, and you’d rather avoid that feeling entirely.
4. Above all, you like making people laugh. The circumstances aren’t always appropriate, and your jokes don’t always get the response you expect, but humor is almost always your first reaction to any situation.

At your birthday party this weekend, Dad and I got to watch you interact with seven of your closest friends from school, summer camp, and karate, plus family friends. He and I both agree that you’ve chosen some good friends who know you well and are good people. Several people made you unique handmade gifts, and almost every present you got was super thoughtful. Nearly everyone was well-mannered and polite, and it seemed to me that even the kids who didn’t know anyone else at the party were actively included in the fun by the others.

Your Dad and I are both proud of the young man you’re becoming. We love you so much.