Farewell, 2020

Happy New Year, friends! We did it! We made it to the 2020 finish line.

Every year I make a retrospective video and spend some time reflecting on the past 365 days. Thinking back on 2020 has been...conflicting, I suppose? To be honest, I'm sort of at a loss for the right word to really summarize what this year has been.

There were, obviously, struggles. A lot of anxiety, a lot of worry, a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration. A lot of constantly second guessing choices made and wondering if we're doing the right thing for ourselves, our family and our community. It was a year of canceled plans and isolation from family and friends. It was a year of loss and grief - we have been fortunate to not lose anyone to the virus itself, but we did lose my grandfather and were unable to mourn him together as a family as we otherwise would have. And so many have lost so much more. It was also a year of unrest and hate and hurt, of arguing and division. There were times when things nearly felt hopeless.

But, to be fair, our family had it a lot easier than many, and for that I am exceedingly grateful - Eric already worked from home, and his work has continued to keep him very busy; I'm able to be home with the kids and we have the space, time and resources to devote to virtual school, plus they attend a great school with teachers who work hard to support them; AND my children are unicorn children who are great, cooperative, hardworking virtual learners. I am so grateful that we were able to adjust to pandemic life as easily as we did.

And, I realized some time ago that even in the hardest times, if you take a step back and look closely, there's beauty in the situation: true, pure, selfless, love-thy-neighbor type of beauty. Today, I am also enjoying remembering all the good things that have happened in the world around us this past year.

When schools initially closed, zoos and museums and people all over hopped online to keep children entertained and engaged. We have been able to "visit" places and watch performances from all over the country that we otherwise would never have seen (including our nieces' and nephew's piano recital this month!). Locally, people drew rainbows on their sidewalks for children to find when they went outside, and built scavenger hunts throughout the neighborhood.

When grocery store shelves were bare, local restaurants sold groceries to the public to fill the gaps. For some time we bought our chicken and pasta from Maple Street Biscuit Company and our eggs by the dozen from Metro Diner. People rushed to fill a need where they saw one and make things easier for their community.

When the CDC started recommending masks, crafters across the country ran their sewing machines ragged making them for their loved ones or to donate to local people in need. When elastic was hard to find, they were cutting up fitted bedsheets to use that elastic for ear straps. Creativity for a noble purpose!

When I asked for help with a drive-by birthday parade for Ellie and birthday video for E.J., I was overwhelmed by the response of our friends and family. It was so touching to see everyone so willing to give of their time to make the day special for our kids.

It often felt like you had to dig through the negative to find it, but if you paid attention, positive stories were plentiful: teachers giving their absolute all to virtual students. Daily applause for healthcare workers. People using their talents to entertain their neighbors from their driveways. Breweries shifting course to produce hand sanitizer, and athletic uniform companies making masks. Zoom lifting time limits on holidays so people could virtually celebrate with distant family and friends without restriction. Examples abound of people giving of themselves to others, trying to ease the burden for their neighbors and bring joy where they could.

And, this year may have looked very different, but there was something kind of fun in coming up with new ways to celebrate the usual events. We were forced out of our rut of tradition, to think creatively about what really is important to us and how best to celebrate it. If nothing else, it was a breath of fresh air, and maybe we even figured out some fun new things to add to our celebrations in the future.

As a family, we slowed down and enjoyed each other more: we started walking together every evening; we started reading the Harry Potter books together; Eric learned magic to entertain us; the kids put on a full-blown "concert" (complete with program) for me for Mother's Day; we spent many nights watching movies together in our backyard. And, we got a puppy!

I hope 2020 has not been too cruel to you, my friends. I hope you're also able to look back and see the beauty amidst the mess. And I hope that 2021 leaves the mess behind and brings you simply joy, good health, hope and togetherness.

Happy New Year.

VIDEO: A look back at our year in 2020

Signing off for 2020,

Meghan

Dear E.J. - Six Years

My dear E.J.,

Happy birthday, buddy! You are six years old now! Six seems so grown up, don't you think? I think you agree, considering that two nights before your birthday, as I said goodnight to you I told you, "Wow! Tomorrow is your last day of being five! How exciting!" and you burst into tears. You told me you like being five and you like kindergarten and don't want to be six. And I'll tell you what, bud - I get that. Five was great fun and frankly, you kind of got cheated out of a lot of it. I can understand your feeling that we haven't quite finished this chapter, so it can't possibly be time to move on already.

You see, we are in the midst of a global pandemic. A novel coronavirus has been spreading throughout the world since late 2019, and through the U.S. in earnest since March. As of March 16, we put ourselves in "safer at home" self-quarantine and have barely left the house since then. The goal was to "flatten the curve," to slow the spread of the virus enough that our hospitals and healthcare systems would not be overloaded. The remainder of the school year was canceled, and you finished kindergarten via virtual learning. Churches, stores, museums, everything closed - even Disney World! The restaurants that did stay open were only open for takeout and delivery, and shelves were picked clean at grocery stores. Things got really bad in major cities right away - New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami. Things stayed pretty under control in our neck of the woods, however, so in May things started to open back up. First the beaches, then restaurants with limited capacity, then more and more businesses and activities. However, now we're seeing a surge in virus cases in our state and so the threat feels very imminent once again. Yet now the people are tired of restrictions, resistant to wearing masks, and some even question if the virus is actually real, or as serious as it is made out to be. So, I'm a bit apprehensive of what may still be to come for us.

Our family does take the whole thing very seriously, however, and it has dominated our lives for the past four months. Aside from grocery or other food pickup, daily evening walks, and bi-weekly trips to the beach (where we stay FAR away from any other people), we don't leave the house. We did attempt to go to the zoo once, but the unmasked crowds forced us to leave shortly after we got there because we didn't feel it was safe enough. Of course, just last week our mayor issued a mask mandate for our county, which may or may not help things. But as for us, when we do go out where we may in any way interact with others, we wear masks. I even made you and Bunny matching ones to try to bring some lightheartedness to what can be a pretty stressful environment.

All this to say, you really were cheated out of your last few months of being five, and certainly the last couple of months of kindergarten.You didn't get to go on your zoo field trip with your class (and for many weeks after schools closed you would remind me to keep an eye on my email in case your teacher emailed and told you to wear your class shirt, because that would mean you were going to the zoo after all). You didn't get to celebrate your birthday at school. Almost your entire t-ball season was canceled. We missed out on several Disney trips. You had a virtual kindergarten graduation instead of an in-person performance (and you cried when it was over, because you didn't REALLY get to say goodbye to your friends and teacher). We "attended" church on Easter Sunday via YouTube. Instead of spending the month of June at Papa's house with Aunt Heather, Aunt Molly and your cousins as we planned, we spent our days walking the neighborhood and tie-dying shirts at our own house. We had planned to celebrate your birthday with a weekend stay at Legoland, but instead we stayed home and made the most of things. 

All this breaks my heart, because I know that you and Ellie only get one childhood. It kills me to see you "missing it." We're doing our best to keep things fun and interesting even in these circumstances, but clearly this is not what I would have wanted for your childhood. And I don't know how long it will last, or how long I can keep putting a positive spin on things for you. I haven't yet told you that you will likely still be attending school via at-home computer screen in the fall, or that Halloween trick-or-treating may very well be canceled. It's easy for me to lose myself in the sadness of what is lost, but we are trying to take it one day at a time and do what we can to build happy memories, so that your recollection of this time is much more rosy than mine will be.

But I'll tell you what, buddy, you and Ellie have been real troopers. Sure, there have been moments when you've really felt the weight of what's going on and how it is affecting your life. There have definitely been tears and breakdowns, for all of us. But you really have rolled with the punches and done very well - you were a good sport for online school, you play well with Ellie (most of the time), and you've mastered your scooter which helps make our walks more tolerable to you. You seem pretty content to be at home a lot of the time, especially because you have tons more time to build LEGO now than you did a few months ago!

LEGO is everything to you right now. You spend almost all of your free time building things and you are very creative, always making creations with elaborate stories, even with the sort of limited brick selection we have. We also watched a show call Lego Masters at the start of quarantine, in which a series of LEGO builder pairs competed for the title of Master Builder. You had a favorite team and you cried when they were eliminated, but you loved the show and you love to make your own "Building With E.J." how-to videos for me to send to your cousins. For your birthday "party" this year, we had a whole LEGO day at home (yes, I'm writing this letter a couple days AFTER your birthday! For shame!). We had LEGO decorations, a LEGO cake with minifigs holding your candles, and the main event was a big scavenger hunt that led you to eight different LEGO sets hidden around the house. We spent the day building, building, building and you loved it!

You still like baseball, though that has sort of taken a backseat given that everything baseball-related has been canceled. Your spring t-ball season was canceled after only three games, the Jumbo Shrimp season has been canceled, and Major League Baseball is attempting to resume their season later this month but there is much skepticism about how realistic that really is. But, you do still like to go out in the front yard and hit some home runs - a major highlight of your birthday this year was doing so under the neighborhood fireworks, as they do in The Sandlot! You really are getting good, even with pretty minimal practice! You're getting so much better at catching and throwing, and assuming we can resume t-ball next year, your dreams of hitting a home run over the fence will likely be realized. A major highlight from the fall season this year was you calling your shot, Babe Ruth style, and then hitting it right where you called it. You are something else and people always loved to watch you when you were up to bat. Some opposing team coaches jokingly accused us of corking our bats after your turn at bat this season! I sure do hope you can get back to where you left off soon.

You did very well in kindergarten this year! Our decision to move you forward rather than giving you another year in preschool was a good one. You loved your class and your teacher and made some great little friends. Your reading has progressed quite well, and your teacher says you really enjoy math, too. I was lucky enough to be able to chaperone a couple of your field trips and class parties in the fall, and I loved seeing you thriving in your school environment!

You still love all things Halloween and spooky, and you've been talking about what we will be for Halloween this year since September (yes, before last year's Halloween had even passed!). You love rollercoasters and Star Wars and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite color is still blue, and your favorite TV shows include The Clone Wars, Lego Masters, and Xavier Riddle and the Secret Museum. Your favorite movies are The Last Jedi and the The Sandlot. Your favorite ride at Disney World is the Haunted Mansion, though the two new Star Wars rides at Hollywood Studios might give it a run for its money these days. Your favorite restaurant is Chick-Fil-A. You sleep on the bottom bunk, and you like to hang blankets around the perimeter to form a "cave," and you hang toys and stuffed animals from the slats above you so they look like bats. You say "musician" when you mean to say "magician" (and nobody is in a hurry to correct you). You love to FaceTime with family, though you are also notorious for being the one to say "so should we end the call?" as soon as there's a lull in conversation. Your best friends this year were Emory, Angelo, Eli and Micah. Your favorite music varies, often depending on the hot movie du juor - recently you've been on a Hamilton soundtrack kick ("Guns and Ships" is your favorite), but you also like soundtracks to Aladdin, Lego Ninjago, and Lego Movie 2. You have learned how to ride your Spiderman scooter and you love to coast down hills. You still laugh yourself into hiccups and love to be tickled. You are very expressive when you speak and you make the funniest emotive faces. You've got charisma!

You are also very sweet. Sure, you have your ornery and contrarian moments, but don't we all? But you have such a sweet side. When you see two butterflies flying together you say, "Look, Mama! That's you and me!" and when I have the hiccups, you run and get me a cup of water with a straw so I can try the trick for getting rid of them that you saw on TV. You are thoughtful and kind - for example, for Ellie's birthday, you made her a Lego "doll," worked very hard on a homemade Frozen birthday card for her, chose a perfect Frozen-themed Lego set to buy for her (and you already had it in mind, it wasn't something I suggested), and chose to dress in your Olaf t-shirt in her honor. You also suggested that we drive you around the block so you could be a part of her birthday car parade! I also often find little LEGO creations that you make for me waiting on my desk (flowers, a panda, us in minifig form), and even little "I love you notes." They are all so special to me!

I will say, in looking back at last year's letter, you seem to have done some solid growing up this year. You no longer take naps, you're able to do an assortment of things for yourself (get your own breakfast, turn on your PBS Kids show in the morning, get your own cup of water, etc.), and you're finally tall enough for some of the bigger rollercoasters at Disney (though that will have to wait!). You speak well and have a great memory. You play well independently (as I mentioned, you could build LEGO on your own for hours), as well as playing great elaborate pretend play games with Ellie. You still like costumes, though they're not a daily staple like they once were. You don't need me to sing to you at night anymore, though you do still ask for a round of Twinkle, Twinkle if you've had a bad dream.

Last year I was lamenting the transition from young-childhood to school-age for you, and that continues to play out. I'm still holding tight to any threads of baby you that are still hanging on - you still often ask for snuggles (and I can still fit you in my lap!), you often come out of your room at night to ask for another hug, you still reach for my hand when we're out walking. When your LEGO creation breaks, you cry and seek my help in repairing it. I see you growing and changing so fast, and those moments where you still need me just to be there are very dear to me.

Sometimes, out of nowhere, you'll ask insightful questions that speak to what may be going on in your head, even if you're not particularly forthcoming about it usually (for example, you recently asked me if I ever get scared, which I believe reflected what you might be feeling about the pandemic). You have this sort of quiet, subtle way to let me know that you're working through something and I love that you trust me enough to ask those questions.

E.J., I hope you know how much you are loved. And not only by our little family, but by so many people in your life. For your birthday this year, since you couldn't have a party, I posted on Facebook asking for people to send me videos of themselves wishing you a happy birthday. I thought I'd get a handful from family and hopefully a couple of friends, but buddy, I got 45 videos. Forty-five! One woman from our church even spent three evenings wandering the neighborhood, asking strangers to sing to you. We got videos from friends, family, your teacher, your pastors and other church leaders, just so many people who wanted to brighten your day. You leave an impression on people, buddy. You make people smile and they want to return the favor. 

I think you did enjoy your birthday this year, even if it didn't look like we would have wanted it to. One thing this pandemic has really made clear to me is that our family is everything we need. I know everyone says that; I always have. But we are also a family of "do-ers." We go places and do things and dress in costume and throw crazy birthday parties and travel to fun places. Now that we are stuck at home, our family identity is sort of being tested. We can't do all the things we usually do. That could really be a tough adjustment for us - and sure, to an extent, it has been. We miss doing a lot of our usual activities, of course. But we are also having so much fun together. I feel like this quarantine has been one example after another of me thinking "oh no, we're going to be in quarantine for xyz occasion, I can't even imagine it, how disappointing" and then somehow, we find a way to make that occasion just as special and memorable (if not more so) than any other has ever been. Even being stuck at home, we're enjoying ourselves and our time together just as much as ever before. We've got a really special thing here, buddy.

E.J., I don't know what the next year will look like for you. I mean, I never do, really, but this year feels much more uncertain than probably any year of your life thus far. I don't know what is to come for our city, our country, our world. I don't know what your schooling will look like, or when you will return to t-ball, or how we'll celebrate Christmas this year. I don't know when you'll next play on a public playground or hug a friend. I don't know what toll any of this will take on you, both in the immediate weeks and months, and long term. All I can do is try my best to help you form great memories from this time, to feel loved and supported, to feel as safe as possible, and to keep you moving forward and growing and developing as best as I can in the situation at hand. It's a tall task, to be sure, but you are so, so worth it. 

And the one thing I know is that we are lucky to have each other. We're lucky to have you, buddy - you to snuggle in close, to show us your latest builds with such enthusiasm, to give one last hug to at night, to make us laugh, to remind us to put the world aside and have some fun for a while. Thank you for what you bring to our family. Thank you for being you. 

I love you so much, nugget. I'm always here for whatever you need. Always.

All my love,

Mama

* * * * *

Dear E.J.,

Happy birthday! Congrats on wrapping up another great year! A few nights before your birthday, you cried because you liked being five so much. That’s understandable because you spend so much of your days doing things you love. It probably also helps that there are so many things you like doing and that you are pretty good at most of them. I feel pretty confident this will continue to be true for at least the next few years and hope it’s still pretty true when you get around to reading this. When writing a letter like this, there’s always so much that could be said. I mean, we wrote you letters each of your first twelve months and you couldn’t even really do anything! What I want to try to do instead this year is to tell you a couple of stories that stand out now and that I think you might like to know about someday.

The Great EJ-Bino

Last time we checked in, you had started down a path to being super into baseball. I am very happy to report that, although you’ve branched out a bit into LEGO, some kicking and dribbling, as well as a renewed Star Wars obsession, baseball is still way up there. After your 5th birthday, we kept practicing all the time, and read a bunch of baseball books, actually we read all the baseball books our library had in its kids section, including stories about Joe DiMaggio and his bat, Jackie Robinson, and Babe Ruth. The Sandlot became your favorite movie and we got to visit the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown and watch a bunch of games in person on our road trip (Phillies, Mets, Indians and Reds). The Mets game was particularly memorable because it was just you and me and we had such a great time! You looked like you felt so cool riding the subway out to Queens and walking around the big stadium. We got a Mr. Met on the Moon bobblehead, Mr. Met signed your baseball card and you even hit a ball over the fence at “Kiddie” field in the kids area. You still talk about details from that game any time we hear anything about the Mets or the Pirates. 

But the fun really kicked up a notch in the fall. I feel pretty confident saying that you were, pound-for-pound, the best hitter in the tee ball league. All season, I could hear parents from both teams telling their friends they had to watch you bat and, even though you are still one of the smallest players on our team, there were multiple opposing coaches who joked about having you tested for PEDs after the game. You even made a kid cry with a line drive to third base. It’s okay, he’s fine. Besides hitting the ball hard, it was also fun to watch because you took it so seriously. You have a really elaborate pre-swing routine like your favorite major leaguers. You hold up a hand, as if to call for time, while you dig your cleats into the box, and then loop your bat a couple of times to get loose. All the while the ball is just sitting there because you are five and its tee ball. I just love it. But there was one at bat that will forever be a part of EJ lore, and it’s a major reason baseball is our first story. Early in the season you walked up to the plate for your second at bat of the game. You looked so purposeful as you walked to the plate, and you moved with a good bit of swagger. Before settling in you lifted your left hand and pointed one finger at center field. Yes, I’m serious. Inspired by your favorite Hall of Famer and your number three jersey, you called your shot at five years old in a tee ball game where nobody had any idea what was happening. And to seal the deal, you ripped one over second base and it was amazing.

Before I move on, I also want to point out that it has been interesting as a parent, coach and former teacher to see that your prowess is primarily the result of hard work. I hope you have decent baseball genes (I mean, who wouldn’t want to take credit), but your growth from year one to two is so clearly the result of the countless hours you spent practicing. I think it helps that it doesn’t feel like work, but that you really enjoy playing and want to do it all the time. Either way, it’s been a great, and clear, example of the value of practice. I hope you always work hard and believe you can do anything you decide you want to do. 

You can’t control the cards you’re dealt, just how you play the hand

Not to take anything away from an eventful year 6 and all of the fun ways you’re growing up, but the biggest story in 2020 is the worldwide COVID-19 pandemic and the 100+ days we’ve spent in quarantine. Unfortunately, this story is still being written and I think we’re too deep in it for me to step back and have any significant reflections to share right now. I can say that I hope you and Ellie are at just the right age to be able to keep learning and to play and entertain each other, without missing out on things that have a high probability of being significant. Neither of you are changing school levels, or missing out on a prom, science fair or a key field trip. You don’t yet hang out with friends outside of school, and you are too young to be playing sports competitively or meaningfully participating in other extracurricular activities. Nonetheless, it stinks that you didn’t get to finish kindergarten, that you had 70% of our tee ball season cancelled, and that we won’t get to take a trip this summer. Most of all, it stinks that I don’t know when this list is going to stop getting longer.

I hesitate to call anything a silver lining, but my second story is the result of something that started because of this situation. You, me and Ellie are now regular card players, mostly poker and blackjack, and I’ve been performing a couple of magic tricks every week for the past two months. I have no idea how long the magic hobby will last, but I spent a lot of time playing cards when I was younger and I think it’s great for building number fluency and strategic thinking, in addition just plain being fun. I’ve always liked magic-Mama and I even met David Blaine in Times Square-but it wasn’t until we had so much extra time to fill that I got the push I needed to give it a try. It also helped that Mama started having hours-long calls some evenings with her sister and family because it really takes practice!

Some of my first tricks involved having a Lego minifigure bend a quarter and changing all of the M&Ms in a bag to chosen color, though most of the subsequent tricks have focused on card magic. I am working my way through Hugard’s The Royal Road to Card Magic and magicians like Chris Ramsey and Alex Pandrea on YouTube have been super helpful. I can’t believe so much information was just sitting out there this whole time. It’s easier than it has ever been to learn what you want, and I can’t help but wonder how you and your peers will be able to discern the best and most valuable information from the glut that is only going to get bigger. In any event, your faces and reactions to the magic have been so awesome and are what drive me to keep learning. It’s also the first thing you and Ellie suggest when I ask what you want to do each weekend. But, the most fun part for me has been watching you guys try to replicate the tricks. For example, you had M&Ms for dessert every day after the first show, though you weren’t quite able to make any magic happen. Cards have been a different story and that’s what I really wanted to share with you. 

I think there are two ways to interpret a “magic trick,” which depend largely on which word does most of the work. Either it’s magic, such that some people have it and others don’t, or it’s a trick and things are not what they seem. Most kids, including your sister, are awed by magic, only to get frustrated when they do what they thought they saw and have it not work. It took you maybe two weeks to figure out it couldn’t be that simple and that you needed to take matters into your own hands. We were outside playing when you brought out a deck and had Ellie pick a card. You turned around and fumbled with the cards, before turning back and dealing a couple off the top that you knew weren’t hers. You then secretly dealt her card from the bottom of the deck and she loved it. I may not have reacted as loudly as she did, but I loved it, too. It’s obviously not the cleanest trick in the world, but you basically invented your own sleight of hand! Since then, you’ve also started setting up the deck to be able to guess a spectator’s card, and dealt yourself four aces on more than one occasion when you were playing poker with Ellie. I hope you get good enough that you don’t need to cheat, or, at least, that you learn to disguise it better. Mostly, I’m really interested to see what this cleverness means. It’s too soon to speculate, but I thought it was cool and worth noting.

Various and Sundry

I know I said I’d try to work with only a few stories, but I wanted to let you know there were lots of other things we could have covered here, such as: 

• Your Mother’s Day stormtrooper dance or the other performances you’ve done this year, acting out shows, playing on the piano, or with the recorder. 

• Lego. You build constantly, are really creative and detail-oriented, and keep getting better all the time. We also watched the Lego Masters TV show as a family and you cried when your favorite team was sent home early. 

• Your impressive memory for names. Whenever we see a kid from your school, you almost always know who they are and which class they’re in. From what I see, it’s pretty rare, but I think it fits well with the charisma narrative I started to build in an earlier letter. 

• You’re still pretty small for your age, which I think could actually help you develop better in sports without being able to rely on size or strength advantages, like most of the kids who will stand out in youth leagues. But, this year, it also meant you could go as Abu to my Aladdin for Halloween. It was super fun to walk around with you sitting on my shoulder. 

E.J., I just love that you’re my little buddy and I think you like it almost as much as I do. I hope it never changes even when you’re not so little. You’re so special and I love you so much.

All my love,

Daddy 

Dear Ellie - Eight Years

My dear Ellie,

Today is your eighth birthday, and what an interesting day it is. I know I usually start my letters with some exclamations of wonderment that you are getting so old - and I'll get to that, I'm sure. But right now there are things going on in the world that have eclipsed every part of our everyday life, and I feel I can't go forward with my reflections on your past year without first addressing our present situation.

Right now, we are in the middle of "social distancing." There is a global pandemic, a novel coronavirus, making its way through the world. It is highly contagious and easily spread. For most people, it's like a flu, but for many, it can be very serious and hospitals are being overwhelmed by people who need care. Our society has opted for social distancing as a way to "flatten the curve," to slow down the spread of this illness in the hopes that our medical workers and hospitals will be able to keep up. That means that for the past two weeks, we have essentially been quarantined in our own home. Schools are canceled - for now, until April 15th, but we suspect it will be much longer. You and E.J. are doing "distance learning" online instead. Many people are working from home (Daddy already does, so that's not different for us!). The church is closed, and we watch the services on YouTube now (and that is how we'll be celebrating Easter this year). Stores are closed, many restaurants are closed, doctors are canceling any non-essential visits. The restaurants that are open are open only for take-out or delivery. The grocery stores are open, but filled with people wearing gloves and masks and scrounging for whatever they can find on the shelves - people panicked early and started hoarding food and necessities (in particular, toilet paper!) so now it's hard to find the groceries you need, and when you do, they are rationed to prevent further stockpiling. For the past two weeks, we have left our house for only two reasons: to pick up necessary groceries as much as we are able (after which we sanitize them outside of the house before bringing them in), and to walk in the evenings (people have been making rainbow chalk drawings on their sidewalks, so we go hunting rainbows!). Nobody knows when this will end, either, so we're looking towards summer and wondering how many more of our plans will be canceled and how long this will be our reality. It's a very strange, very surreal time. It's historic, and I can't help but wonder how you will remember this time as you grow up.

Needless to say, all this means you are not having the birthday you planned for. We did manage to squeeze in your biggest birthday request before we went into isolation: you asked to go to Kennedy Space Center for a few days, to include a day at the beach and a rocket launch. We managed to do that over spring break and it was a wonderful little mini family vacation (even though the launch was aborted mid-countdown!). Of course, we left on Sunday and as of Monday the Space Center closed indefinitely, so we really just barely made it and have been on lockdown since we got home. But, you described that little trip as the "best weekend ever" so I'm so glad we were able to make it happen for you! It's such a happy memory from right before everything went crazy.

But, we also had some great surprises planned for you for your actual birthday (Disney-related, but Disney World is also closed indefinitely), and you had hoped to have your first sleepover party with a few friends next weekend. You have really handled all this craziness remarkably well, but earlier this week it hit you that you would not be able to celebrate with any friends or family on your birthday, or even go anywhere fun, not even a playground. This hit you hard - you are my social butterfly! My hugger! You are KNOWN for your hugs. Just the other day your first grade teacher even commented on how she had been sick and hadn't been able to hug you for a week and it was torture. I know it's hard for you to not be around your friends and all the people at school and church that you love. In a journal entry this week, you said that you wish you could do homeschool with your friends, and when trapped at home for "like a month" you feel "sad and scwushed" (squished). I hate that you have to feel any kind of sadness or disappointment because of this whole ordeal!

So, on your birthday this year, we're doing our best to make it special for you. We're getting takeout from Metro Diner, one of your favorite restaurants ("best grilled cheese ever!"). You requested salmon for dinner - something new that you like! And of course, we'll have cake and presents. And, as a surprise, I've organized a drive-by parade for you in the afternoon. Many of your friends will be driving past our house at 2:00 pm to wish you a happy birthday from the safety of their cars. I was so touched at the response to my request for help with this - everybody is very excited to come. It warms my heart to see how much you are loved! Of course, I know that you are a very special girl, but it is always wonderful to see that other people appreciate that, too. You are VERY loved, my girl. Very loved and very special.

This year has been another impressive one for you. You're doing very well in second grade, but that is no surprise. You're a reading machine, and you read novels now. You've even started digging into the American Girl books, which were always a favorite of mine, so that makes me very happy! You love your teachers (and they, you!) and still love science and math. You're also really enjoying your gifted class this year, and I think they're doing a good job of challenging your thinking and teaching you new strategies for problem-solving. You seem to enjoy having E.J. at school with you this year, too, and you walk him to class every morning.

You're still enjoying ballet, and have moved into the Upper School which is a bit more serious. Right now, during social-distancing, your instructor records your lessons and posts them on YouTube for you to do at home, and your first Upper School recital has been postponed until (hopefully) June, which is a bummer. But I enjoyed watching you do your lesson at home this week! You are very graceful, and I was very impressed.

You also joined the Girl Scouts this year and you really enjoy that. I got talked into being a co-leader for your troop, which I'm not sure is my forte, but I love that we have that special thing to do together. We have a good troop of girls, most of whom go to church and/or school with you. We wrapped up our first Girl Scout cookie season just before this quarantine started, and you KILLED IT. You sold over 500 boxes of cookies, which was the most in your troop by a lot (the girl in second place trailed you by about 200 boxes!). You worked really hard and I was just so impressed by you. You walked around town with your wagon full of cookies, worked a booth, and went table-to-table at church Wednesday night dinner to sell cookies. You worked so hard to earn money to pay for a campout at the Jacksonville Zoo in the tiger exhibit, but sadly, that will likely be canceled because of coronavirus. I hate that you won't get the reward you worked so hard for, but knowing you, you'll take it in stride. Which is fine, of course - I'll be plenty disappointed on your behalf.

This year we took a big road trip, as we do every year, but this one included a stop in New York City and Ellie, what a delight it was to be back there with you! We showed you where we lived, took you to all our favorite cupcake places, and even took you out to Hoboken to show you the riverfront where I walked with you endlesslessly when you were a grumpy little infant who just wanted the bumpy bricks to lull her to sleep. You loved the city, and you and I shared a really special night together - while the boys went to a Mets game, you and I went out to dinner (at Junior's, where you tried your first cheesecake!) and then saw Wicked on Broadway. You loved it and I can't even describe to you how much I loved watching you love it. I love it all, too, so much, and to share that with you was something so precious to me. It was a night I will never forget. Thank you for sharing it with me, and I know it won't be our last night out together in New York. I can hardly wait to take you back!

In other exciting news, you've been facing fears left and right this year! For instance, this summer at Papa's house, you learned how to swim underwater! We had hoped it would happen the summer prior but you were NOT having it. This summer, though, it clicked, and now you LOVE the water. During your birthday celebration at the Space Center, you tried a boogey board on our beach day and loved that, too! Also, you got your ears pierced this year! You decided you really wanted it and you did it, and you were so proud of yourself (and I was proud of you, too!). You also faced your fears and rode Space Mountain for the first time, and now claim it is your favorite ride. Also, after taking a little hiatus from monkey bars, you are back at it and rocking it. And, just since we've been quarantined, you've started learning how to roller-skate and today you gave your bike a try without training wheels for the first time. I think the coming year will be a big one for you, at this rate!

What else can I say about eight-year-old Ellie? Your favorite movies right now are Frozen II and the live-action Aladdin movie. You love Xavier Riddle and the Secret Museum on PBS, The Who Was Show and Ms. Julie's Greenroom. You still love to dance, and the Frozen II soundtrack has been a staple around here for the past few months. You also still love crafty things, and this year you got into making little rubber band bracelets. They were all the rage at school, so we got you a kit for Valentine's Day and you've been a bracelet-making machine. Speaking of Valentine's Day, you still have a little crush on a boy, and are still willing to talk to me about it, so I love that (I pray you always feel comfortable talking to me about people who are important to you!). On Valentine's Day you even went up to him and told him that you thought he was handsome and smart and funny, and wow! Did I ever admire you for that! I hope you are always so bold and outspoken with your feelings. What an admirable quality!

You still love bunnies, and you wish we could have a pet. You had a relapse of sadness over Achilles recently, which led to the declaration of Achilles Day, complete with a dog movie (Lady and the Tramp), pizza dinner (Achilles loved pizza), and a decorated picture frame in his memory. Your favorite food is still ziti and meatballs, though you've gotten so much better about trying new things (hence, the salmon for dinner!). You have backed off of the astronaut talk a little, now leaning more towards being a doctor (maybe a pediatrician). As I mentioned, you're a hugger. You often come up to us out of the blue and say "huggy?" when you want a hug, and we are happy to oblige. You often also give "sneak attack" hugs - you'll run up to someone and wrap your arms around them before they even realize you're there. It's very dear!

You and E.J. (mostly) play well together, though you do have your squabbles. You are both really into Legos right now, and you had been saving your money for a very realistic babydoll for a long time, until I gave you one that I had as a child and that seems to have satisfied you. You dress her and carry her around and push her in an old stroller when we go on walks. Your freckles are getting darker since our time at the beach and they're just the cutest. You wanted to grow your hair long this year. You're done losing teeth for a while. You cried when it was announced that our pastor was leaving the church, but have also accepted our new one readily and with hugs and homemade gifts. At family reunions, you pay special attention to Gramps and he adores you. You love God, and you read your Bible or devotionals every night before bed. You just completed your first needlepoint, and are giving it to Aunt Heather as a birthday gift. You love technology, and are thrilled that you get to do your school lessons on our new iPad (and you really work it well!). You ask a lot of questions, love to explain things, and are diligent with your schoolwork (especially now as you do it at home!). When you get in trouble for something (a rarity), you take it hard, often lamenting that you are "not the best girl in the world." Go easy on yourself, kiddo! Because, 1) you are, and 2) it doesn't matter - we love you all the much no matter what.

Ellie, you're a special kiddo, and you deserve the best in every way. All I want is to make everything as perfect for you as possible. So I'm having a little trouble with this letter, both with reflecting on where we've been in your eight years (the news has occupied my thoughts for weeks, hardly allowing time for memories and reflection), as well as thinking ahead to what's coming next. Because really, we don't know what's coming next. Not economically, not socially - there's so many big, significant question marks on the horizon. This virus has everyone rattled, and I fear it's really just getting started. I don't know how long we'll be living life like this, and even more so, I don't know what the world will look like when we're done. Every aspect of life feels very uncertain now, and we're just taking it day by day and praying for the best.

I know that all I can do right now is try to remain steady for you, to hold my fears in tight to not worry you needlessly, to protect you as best I can and try to make this whole experience a positive memory for you. I hope that when we come out of this you will only remember all the time we spent together, your birthday parade, our All Day Movie Day, doing art together, drawing rainbows on our sidewalk, reading books outside in the shade, worshipping together while cuddled up on the couch, playing hopscotch at lunchtime, sleeping in and making s'mores at night. I hope I'm able to make this a happy time for you, to turn something stressful into something special that you will remember fondly. I'm doing my best and I hope we all can maintain our patience with each other in pursuit of that goal.

I love you, Ellie. No matter what uncertainty is happening outside the door of our home, that is one constant that you can always count on. I love you and I always will, no matter what.

I just love you so much, bug.

All my love,
Mama

* * * * *

My dear Ellie,

Here we go again - another letter. But, also, another whole year older for you, and this time you're eight! Birthdays are a big deal for kids, and your Mama and I are trying to make it as special as we can. But we are in fairly uncharted territory as a planet, and that is forcing us to be a little creative. I hope it's obvious what I'm talking about when you read this because it actually ended and was just a crazy, once-in-several-generations event. But it has only been two weeks and I don't know. I read something interesting this week about the futility of using the present to plan for the future, and, boy, does that feel true. Three weeks ago, it would have been laughable to suggest the ENTIRE COUNTRY would be confined to their homes and that professional sports would be shut down indefinitely. And, yet, here we are. There are probably important lessons about slowing down to appreciate our health and the freedoms we simply take for granted, or the fact that for all our technological advances, we are still no match for nature. I'm just not sure yet.

But, I digress. This letter isn't about the world, but about one of my absolute favorite people in it - you. One of the things I've wondered about is whether to actually write to you now or keep thinking about the you I don't know know yet. It's tricky this year because you're old enough to read fluently. You do it all the time, especially nonfiction, Magic Treehouse and American Girl chapter books. When we read together at night, you always get to play a character or two, except now you can follow along on your own (I don't have to whisper your lines to you anymore) and you're getting pretty good at using inflection and doing different voices when you have more than one part. I can't tell you how much I love reading with you and your brother just about every night. You are super-cuddly, which is not always the most physically comfortable thing for me, but I will never say anything about it. Whoops. I seem to be digressing again, but I think it counts because I should have found a place to mention all this anyway. What I am trying to say is that I could probably write to you now, not just because you can actually read it, but because you are getting old enough to really start to consider the wider world and your place in it. But as I think about it, I'm not going to. I think my job is to be the best dad I can be every day, reflect and try to do better. These letters are more for posterity so we can look back and see what we got right. Or, maybe they are to help me remember the things that feel unforgettable but get forgotten because you never know what's next. Or, maybe, hopefully, you'll be interested or curious. These are a lot of work!

Seeing as I'm committed to writing to the you of someday, and I don't know what you'll be like, I am a little nervous. What will you want or need to hear? Will you just roll your eyes if it feels too over-the-top or sappy? Part of my wondering is that now that you are eight, I know you are that much closer to big feelings. It seems like I have encountered a lot of parents of middle and high school girls this year who sound like they are dealing with quite a challenge. I hope we are able to navigate those years okay. So far, so good for us, but you never know. As I hope is still true, or that you at least know from past letters, you and I are actually better than good. Whenever I describe my kids to people, I always try to share some details like how much I love coaching EJ and how much he loves baseball and that he's really good. But for you, I always start by literally saying "my daughter Ellie is perfect." Obviously no one is actually perfect, but it's kinda funny because when you get down on yourself, you sometimes say it's because you feel like you aren't the best girl in the world. I love that you have high standards, but whoa! Really, though, no one needs you to be the best girl in the world, even if you just might be. I hope you will always do your best, of course, but what I really mean is that perfect is the word that comes to mind when I think about how much I love being your dad. You're so loving, smart, curious, outgoing, thoughtful and polite, and pretty much, more than any father could ask for in a kid.

I feel like I need to also mention one of the things we haven't really figured out: how to help you with your anxiety. You've always been on the strong-willed side, but this year you seemed to ramp up the ways your brain can get you stuck. And to be totally honest, I really don't' know the best way to help. No matter how calmly I have tried, I have not been able to ease you into changing your mind about doing something on the spot. When we can't physically force you to do it (like new rides) our only option is for you to decide on your own that you're going to do it. For example, you got your ears pierced this year! But then six weeks later had an hours-long ordeal when we tried to change them. It has now been six months and you haven't touched anything from your growing earring collection. Running has also been a bit of an adventure. After following up your 11:00 minute mile with an 18-minute debacle at Disney, I ran with you and we finished in 10:23! Then, in December, I tried to run with you and EJ and told you that you could go ahead if you wanted to. Well, EJ flew off the start line and you got trapped behind other people. You didn't panic, caught up to us and flew by to finish in 9 minutes flat! Then, when we trained in the Spring for your first 5k, you had all kinds of problems in our first 2-mile training run - you stopped to complain about a sore back, legs and then nearly hyperventilated out of nowhere down the stretch. I saw up close what must have happened at Disney and then happened again at a Girl Scout race in February where you stopped to walk 50 yards into the race because your legs hurt. You get yourself nervous and then it manifests in some way and then that's it. But when it doesn't, you have a real skill. It's so frustrating to not know how to help, but I promise to keep reading about it and trying.

I'm sorry I used so many words to talk about running. The anxiety is such a big thing, but it is still mostly infrequent and by no means defines you for this year. You are, or at least you were until the world shut down, having another great year in school, still love math and science, and you have thrived in gifted class. We went on more dates and continue to dance to "A Whole New World" - fueled by a new Aladdin movie this year that was everything until Frozen II came out. You saw your first Broadway show and we did some more golfing and played baseball and football and all kinds of other games in the yard. You are interested in soccer, but have too many extracurriculars already, and you really LOVE swimming.

My dear Ellie, I know I have talked about the unfairness of writing a letter to you on one day that is meant to reflect on your progress over a whole year. The reality is that it has never really worked out to build it throughout the year. It is really a snapshot of you at the moment you move from one year to the next. And the moment we are in now is just so different than any one that anyone can remember, and that has to be coloring what has ended up here. So far, though, you don't seem to grasp the enormity of the situation, and you shouldn't, but it is definitely impacting you. I'm sure Mama will mention "sad and squished" and your birthday, itself, will just be us. I hope we get back to normal soon and that you have many more chances to sleep over with your friends and go out and be celebrated properly. For now, we will do the best we can and be grateful that we have a decent group of people to spend the quarantine, and life, with.

I love you so, so much,
Daddy