Monthly newsletter #72

Dear Landon,

I love you more than you will ever know.  Well you might know one day when you have a kid, but maybe you won’t because maybe a father’s love is different from a mother’s love, and I’ll never know that.  But just know that I love you to pieces and that will never change.

That being said, this is the last newsletter.  You’re six now, and I feel like you will probably remember most everything that happens to you from here on out, or at least the important things.  These newsletters are what you have instead of a baby book.  I apologize profusely that when you have a kid and you ask when you got your first tooth or first slept through the night or whatever else may be the question at hand, I will not have a concise book to pull out and show you all your statistical data…but if you cull through the pages of the 6 years of books where I wrote you a letter each month, you will eventually find the important information that you are looking for to find out that yes indeed, your baby is normal.

You are riding your bike this month without training wheels.  You did it on the first try.  For your birthday, your daddy bought you another, bigger bike.  It’s taking some getting used to, but you’re riding it without training wheels as well.  I didn’t know it would make me so proud to see you do that, but it does.  It makes me so unbelievably proud of you.

You’re having a bit of trouble adjusting to school.  Your behavior sucks.  I know why it sucks, you’re bored.  But even as an adult, there are times you get bored, but you still have to sit quietly and listen, even if you already know what they’re talking about or don’t see the point of the whole thing.  I’m sorry, it’s part of life.  As an adult they call them meetings.  On the plus side, the ladies in extended day are extremely impressed with you.  They had a challenge where that gave all the kids spaghetti and marshmallows and told them to build a tower or pyramid.  You built a pyramid, you did it first, so you won and everyone else copied your design.  And your Kindergarten teacher specifically asked if we had filled out the paperwork to allow them to test you for the gifted and talented program.

We had the annual company weekend.  It was rainy and drizzly, but you still got to play in the pools a bit.  We also played board games and you had a blast with the childcare people while I went to the grown up party.  When I went to get you at the end of the night you were passed out on the floor in front of the movie.  I picked you up and carried you all the way back to the room.  I dropped you on the bed and you didn’t move until I started poking you at 9 am the next morning because I was STARVING and really wanted to go have breakfast.

This month, Mike returned to Alaska from Afghanistan.  You’re getting to talk to him a lot more, since the time difference from here to Alaska is much closer than the time difference to Afghanistan.  And it’s nice to see the two of you bonding.  We sent Matthew a birthday present earlier this month and Michael and Matthew also sent you a birthday present (2 beyblades) which you ABSOLUTELY LOVE and have played with every day since receiving them.  Matthew has also called to talk to you a couple of times.  I hope when we meet them in person this December that we can foster a good relationship between the three of you for the years to come, if for no other reason than as of December they will be your brothers.

You had your first ever super commercialized birthday party this year.  I finally relented and you had a party at Chuck E Cheese.  It was actually easier and cheaper for me than having your party at the house, although a bit less satisfying.  I didn’t get to talk to everyone, and I spent a good half the party looking for our party host who disappeared for 20 minutes at a time – specifically at the times when we had a new kid arrive and I needed her to give me their tokens.  Anyway, you had an absolute blast and got to go in the ticket blaster where they blew tickets all around and you grabbed as many as you could.  That’s was what you really wanted, out of everything offered, it was the ticket blaster.  I made a deal with you at the end of the party that because there were only two ticket counting machines working we would go back Monday night and you could spend your left over 42 tokens and we’d cash in your tickets then.

This is the part I would normally write the things I want you to work on for the next month.  But this is the last letter, so I have a bit more time to cover.  I want you to always try your hardest in everything you do.  I want you to see the good in people.  I want you to treat others the way you would want to be treated.  I want you to listen.  I want you to continue to love learning.  I want you to learn from your mistakes and the mistakes of others if you can.  I want you to know that you are surrounded by people who love you and care about you and we all want to see you succeed.  I am doing my very best to raise you to be a productive citizen, and caring and loving adult, who is capable of solving problems and making good decisions and sometimes that means letting you learn lessons the hard way and endure the consequences of your actions.  I am and always will be here for you, you will always be able to count on me, but that doesn’t mean I will always bail you out – sometimes you’re going to have to bail yourself out while I stand by and cheer you on.   

I love you, and I always will.

Love,

Mommy