We went back to Greenfield Village's Hallowe'en Nights dinner this year to celebrate Jon's birthday dinner. It was just as fun as last year.
The birthday boy
Warm cider with a noodle straw
Listening to a reading of Sleepy Hollow
Dr. Frankenstein trapped in his lab by a mob looking for his monster
Here we are, another year past. As I get older the years seem to go by faster, something I’ve heard from others many times before, but never understood until now. And as the days blend together at a dizzying pace it becomes increasingly difficult to remember any one point in time. That is one of the reasons I want to write these letters to you: so that I will have at least a yearly record of our life together, an annual snapshot of your continuous growth. To try and stop time for even just a moment.
As always, your seventh year has been one of great growth and development. Our days are still full, sometimes with schoolwork, other times with travels, or family, or friends, and still with lots and lots of play. Your boundless energy and enthusiasm are a constant source of joy for us, and sometimes a source of exhaustion, depending on whether you are running in circles inside the house or outside. Even when you are quiet you aren’t—watching you read a book is a matter of hilarity, and many times I have glanced over to see you reading in very odd positions, such as upside down. You love playing make-believe, by yourself or with others. There is no limit to your imagination and you can spend hours absorbed in worlds of your own making. You create with the same energy as well, on the sidewalk in chalk, or on the computer, or simply the old fashioned. We go through paper at a rate that would be appalling if it weren’t for your extensive imagination. Of all your many gifts, it is your imagination that gives me the greatest pleasure.
By this time we are marking your growth a little differently, as “leaps and bounds” is replaced by “steady and continual”. The one true milestone to mark this year is your first two lost teeth (the two bottom middle, both lost on the same night in May). Otherwise, you’ve been in the same car seat for years now, your bike will see an extra summer, and even your clothes are lasting longer than a year at a time. But “steady and continual” is a good, healthy way to grow, and healthy you have certainly been, other than summer allergies and the occasional cold. You do still experience the night time seizures, but they are increasingly infrequent (only a few over the past year) and the doctors are confident that they will stop entirely before adulthood. 
“Leaps and bounds” does still apply when it comes to your mental growth, though, and our homeschooling year has been an adventure. We spend our mornings in formal lessons now—a little math, a little grammar, some spelling, and of course history and science—but I have tried to make these flexible, keeping them challenging but attainable, and following your interests when possible. This year you mastered multiplication, long division, and sentence diagramming, and are currently following a rather deep interest in theoretical astrophysics. You read like it’s going out of style, practically inhaling books, yet you always surprise me with your comprehension when you’re done. It is not uncommon for you to grab the encyclopedia to answer a question. Your insatiable curiosity and steel trap of a memory continue to amaze.
Learning alongside you is a constant bright spot in my life—not only the moments of great revelation, but also our more casual discussions and everyday discoveries. We don’t just learn at the kitchen table, but also at the zoo, in the yard, on hikes, at the store, on vacation. Last summer took us to Niagara Falls and your first production at Stratford. It also took us camping and to Mackinac Island. The fall and winter found us alternately in Chicago and Harbor Springs with family we love, and we have many more trips planned for the future.
What else is new? Last year you learned how to swim, now you know all four IM strokes and continue to amaze your teachers with your youthful mastery of the backstroke and butterfly. You played soccer for the spring season this year, and took a gymnastics course as well. Last year you had your first speaking part in a stage play, while this year you performed in two more productions (Alice in Wonderland, and Following the Gnome), even playing a lead in the second (you made a wonderful Cheshire Cat, then an adorable friendly dragon, and forgot none of your lines). You continue to excel at the piano, though you like to give your teacher (your dad) a rough time in lessons every now and again.
This, too, is new: this sense of independence and strength of character that sometimes clashes with us, your parents. You were never one for temper tantrums, but you have your own way of seething, and this year you’re stretching your youthful legs and grabbing for greater autonomy. I can’t say it hasn’t been frustrating for us, but it is good to see you expand in your space and challenge the world around you, and every rough moment is surpassed at least twofold by delightful ones. Because whatever else you are, you are still a completely happy and loving child who delights in his surroundings, in his family, in his blanket (yes, he’s still around!), and in almost every experience he encounters.
And always, forever, we love you very much.
Love,
mom (& dad)
To Calvin... | tagged birthdays I turned 36 today.
Flowers, smiles, hugs, notes and calls from family and friends, dinner out with my loved ones, my most favorite cake in the whole world, and fresh snow on the ground—what more could I want on my birthday? It was a cold and beautiful day and I truly enjoyed it. And I don't feel older. Actually, I still feel quite young. Maybe not physically, that depends on the day, but definitely in spirit.
I remember walking home from elementary school one day with my friend who lived across the street. Her brother was older than we were, making him way cooler and more mature in our eyes, and we coveted his homework. This being in the years before wheeled backpacks were required before first grade to accommodate all the take-home assignments, we were on our way home to play with Cabbage Patch dolls or My Little Ponies or the like, but decided instead to do "homework" because we thought it was time to start being more grown up.
I'm sure we felt very adult that day, and there have been other remarkable days in my past when I've felt rather adult, too, but it's an elusive feeling. Mostly I just feel like an imposter in an adult's body.
I still sleep with a stuffed animal, after all, and wear the bib when eating crab out at dinner.
Best elephant birthday art ever!
birthdays Last week: the weather was pretty, the leaves really started turning, Jon got older so we baked him his favorite (pumpkin cheesecake) and there was a party thrown by his boss, then Calvin and I headed up north for a few days to take in the colors.
This week: up north we experienced a veritable monsoon, we discovered that Calvin outgrew all his winter pants sometime over the last three weeks, we bird watched; back home we ran an experiment in measuring friction, we beat the Yankees, my brother surprised us by coming home for the weekend, and we beat Michigan State.
That's the short of it, and really the long as well.
I mentioned a month or so ago, in the wake of our first child's birthday party, that Calvin had already worked out his birthday party guest list, including such family members as his grandparents and aunts and uncles. He also planned out the menu, which started with havarti and dill cheese, crackers, guacamole, and salsa, continued with grilled salmon, fresh green beans, and potato salad for dinner, and finished with carrot cupcakes decorated in the colors of Oz.
He also designed his own invitation (the penguin on the left is Calvin, with blue eyes, and that's green-eyed me on the right, lighting the last candle on the cake with the electric lighter).
And he helped bake and decorate the carrot cupcakes.
One of his birthday requests had been for more of the delightful and unique Oz characters we'd given him last year, and the artist who'd made the first set happily obliged with some beautiful additions. It was his first present of the day.
Everyone who was in town came to the party and made it a wonderful afternoon, with presents and game play and munching and laughing and loving.
And now it's official. He's six.
