A letter to Turner as we approach halloween.

Dear Turner,

I had the best afternoon with you. Thanks for the purple bats, the dance party after Word Girl, the gym time, the "cuddlin" with Finx (who has a new, longer name of Finx Sheriff), the rounds of Go Fish over "Mom's not Nanny's macaroni and cheese," the hide and go seek, and for doing your homework because you're excited and not forced to do it. Thanks from PaPa for calling him to make sure he didn't blow away in the storm today. Thanks also for being so entertaining and such great company. I love to hear the conversations you come up with between paper bats and the arsenal of toys that take up space in our never-ever-clean bathtub. I don't know how you do it, but you smile so often and so wide and with such enthusiasm that you make my body warm inside.

I love our Tuesdays, and the way I get to just let every setback and discouraging moment go at 2:10 pm. I rush out of my class, abandon my students, hop on my bike, pedal like the wind, stuff the bike in the car, and drive to your school. There, I wait outside and make small talk with strangers who love their kids like I love you, and then the bell rings and you come running to me like you haven't seen me in days. You are eager to double-check whether you read my lunchbox message to you correctly and to share the details of your day. I'm thankful you don't say "nothing" happened.

Tonight, I ask to read Good Night God. You aren't interested. I ask if you talk to God. You say, "Yes. I ask God about Grandma Bow. I ask God to take care of her because she is so special." I'm all tears in a moment, but I try to hide. I tell you how important it is to have someone to talk to about life and the ups and downs and the people we love. You agree. Then you are quiet.
"I wonder who will pass away next."
"I don't know. You never know that T. That's why it is so important to grab at what is in front of you and love with conviction." I reach out to you, grab you, pull you down onto the bed and find the special spots that make you squeal. Finally we get settled into bed and read Swimmy, the Little Fish with Big Ideas. At the end I say, "You know Turner, Swimmy has the right idea. When you want things in life you gotta believe in them. Believe and be stubborn. That's always worked for me. Figure out that thing you want more than anything, and then get it." You think on this for a minute.
I turn out the light and get nose-close to you. "You know the thing I always wanted? Wanted more than anything?"
You look in my eyes and put your hands on my face and say, "Me." Exactly. More tears, these I can't hide.

Yes, son, you are the most amazing thing I've ever known or could ever hope to experience. I am so filled up by life because you are absolutely amazing at being you, the very thoughtful, courageous, understanding, and curious you. I wish I could do again each of those nights that I rushed through stories, nights when I "needed" to grade papers, catch up with a friend, clean the kitchen, or work on my never-ending dissertation. Never again will you be five. I will always have work in front of me, behind me, around me, and consuming me. But, you will never be five again. Thank you for the perspective tonight. For reminding me that I already have all that I ever wanted. And. It. Just. Keeps. Growing.

Love from here to the moon and back,
Mom.

Soccer.

Supporting breast cancer awareness.

Getting (or giving) advice to his teammate Austin.

A break away but, sadly, no goal. We didn't need it anyway. End score was 4 to 3.

The Injury. The kid who kicked Turner in the knee is on his team. J. continues to misunderstand the concept of "team" play, so he just steals the ball from whomever has it and is happy to push and knock down anyone. Turner had to sit out the last quarter so he could nurse his wound.

It means excited-like.

It was a green card kind of day, so Turner and I went to the park to swing after school. Usually homework is our first stop. It was hot, and I was in dress clothes, but we got in a solid forty minutes of swinging. Then like lighting Turner was out of the swing and ready for home. He needed to potty. At home we had snacks, and Turner “adjusted” his squirrel game. The squirrel game is a big piece of white paper on which he has created a board game. There are three squirrel figures, and you move these around a board. There is a “glider” where your squirrel can skip ahead, moving through the air over trees and other things. He has names for the different stops a squirrel can take, each has a story. And, there is a complex set of (shifting) rules.

After the gym and tutoring, Turner and I played Simon Says at MagPies while we waited for pizzas. At one point, Simon said to Turner "Read this word." And he did it. It wasn’t one of the words we’ve been working on, sight words. He just sounded it out. And just like that, the word “for” turned into other words: west, on, and a few others I can’t remember. I was so proud of him.

Over pizza, Turner told me he got two new books today from Ms. Cipolla. She has been sending books home with him to borrow. I assume all the kids get to do this, but Turner takes this responsibility pretty seriously, the caring for Ms. Cipolla’s books. We’ve been reading the books to him and then we return them after a few days. He also creates these books that contain all of his sight words, and he reads those to us. I saw a cow. I saw a dog. That sort of thing. So, tonight he said he wanted to read to me. I asked him what the books were about and he said it would be a surprise.

When he was in the bathtub, I said to him, “I’m going to tell Dad that you want me to wipe your bottom until you’re eighteen.” He had said this earlier in the day, angry with me because I would not come “check” him. We talked about how he goes potty at school independently, and that he can do that at home too. My least favorite parent task is butt duty.

Turner said, “I want you to check me not wipe.”

“Well whatever. I think Dad will smile about it. You made some convincing arguments.”

He got quiet. I rubbed his face with a wash cloth, a chore he hates, and he said, “Oh Mom! You’re hurting my molars.”

We make it to bedtime and Turner chooses What Are You? to read first. He puts his finger at the base of each word and moves across the cover.

What are You? I am a cow. I am a horse. I am a sheep. I am a pig. I am a chicken. [He stumbled here. I told gave him the “ch”and he remembered the word.] I am a duck. What are you?

The next book: Pets.

I had a frog. It jumped out of its bowl. I had a mouse. It ran back to its hole. I had a fish. It ate too much. I had a rabbit. It got out of its hutch. I had a parrot. It flew out the door. I wanted a dog . . . but Mom said, “No more!”

He raised his voice as he read the last sentence. Then he smiled at me, clearly proud of himself. I tried to inconspicuously put the water on my cheeks down my sleeve. He points to the exclamation point, “You see that. It means you read that line excited. Like you are surprised but not always mad. It is an exclamation.”

Tonight, Andy read with him. We met on the stairs and he said, “He really sounded out the words. He read it!”

I said, “I know!” That's excited-like.

Swimming turtles.

We have a new pet. A swimming turtle name Finx. Turner has waited patiently for him to arrive, and Andy and I were nothing but shocked to discover how expensive he was. Nonetheless, he is giving us loads of entertainment swimming around the tank, crawling over trees, and resting on top of his floating rock. After seeing all the possible spelling for his turtle's name, Turner selected the one with the "x," an underutilized, special kind of letter in the alphabet.

*An update. Since the reptile shop had so little information about Finx's breed, we did some Internet research. Come to find out, Finx will grow to at least 12 inches in length and has a life expectancy of "several decades." I told Turner he would be taking Finx to college. I do wonder, how will we find a tank and a space in the house large enough to house a turtle so large. Life is an adventure; so we'll figure it out. Perhaps we can dig a pond in the backyard for Finx once we move.