Dear Eliza, 123 Months Old

We are on a 3D-printing tear.

Santa brought us a family gift this year: a 3D printer named Joy. X-Maker Joy also happens to be the model of the printer. Fancy that.

The printer wasn’t a hit right away. I had to go into full IT-Dad mode to get it set up, and we ran into some Wi-Fi issues that made it hard to keep our phones connected. I eventually solved it weeks later with a new router. I’ll spare you most of the frustrating details, but let’s just say it took a few hours before we could print anything—and for a while, we couldn’t print every day without resetting the printer’s wireless connection.

Eventually, everything came together, and Mom took over the app to help you and Matteo get printing. Now, weeks later, we’ve become a toy factory—turning out fairies, turtles, chubby dinosaurs, dragons, and more. That printer hums most of the day in the kitchen, and I’ve only partially joked (because it’s true) that Mom’s new part-time job is managing all the 3D printing.

You and Matteo color some of the figurines and fidgets with acrylic pens and leave others single-color. I’m always impressed by the detail you can paint with your still-small hands. And at the volume we’re printing, you’ve done a great job giving many of the creations away to friends who are always eager for a small toy. In that sense, Joy has been a gift to a lot of people. That generosity makes me feel good about the new family device—and helps me feel better knowing we’re not just piling up plastic toys.

Because of our early IT struggles, I wasn’t sure Santa had brought us the best 3D printer option. After more research, I realized a Bambu A1 might be a better long-term fit—especially for printing larger, more functional items around the house. After all, this is a family gift. I jumped on the remaining holiday sales and bought one, and we assembled it—along with a workbench—this past weekend. Yes, I went all in. But I’m glad I did. This newer, more robust printer, which Matteo lovingly and intuitively named Bambu, is cranking out high-quality prints and can even print up to four colors at once.

By the time you read this, I hope these 3D printers sound completely archaic. Technology is supposed to move fast. I hope that years from now they’re a quarter of the size, 100 times faster, AI-powered, and able to print 32 colors from a small closet. Why order things online when you can make almost anything at home from a few pliable materials?

The first thing I printed for you on Bambu was a pair of fairy houses. We know about a natural fairy garden along a trail on Harstine Island, and we plan to place a whole fairy neighborhood there to surprise and delight young hikers. We have plenty more printing ahead to fully populate it.

I’m really glad we have something like this that we can share and both get excited about. It’s a little harder to connect with your interests now that you’re a tween than when you were smaller and happy with simple toys and games. Now you’re deep into your own worlds—Wings of Fire, Warriors, school friends, dance classes, and inside jokes. I catch glimpses of these, as it should be, and I treasure the few things we get to do together. I’ll keep thinking big and creatively about more ways for us to connect.

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 102 Months Old

Christmas is a wrap. Tinsel, Elfie, and Tiny must have observed some very good behavior this year, because I think you and Eliza totally scored. Santa brought you a drone that you named DJ (a DJI Neo). He also changed things up with more shared gifts, including a metal detector and a 3D printer that you named “Joy.” You are really into naming things this year.

The metal detector and the drone have both come out on nice days, since they’re a bit weather-dependent. Mom was the first person to find something with the metal detector at Hartstene Pointe—a 2-ounce fishing weight. We’ve flown DJ a few times now, and it’s amazing how automatic it is, with modes like Follow, Circle, and Rocket. You love Follow mode best, because the drone trails you like a small, loyal dog buzzing through the air.

Joy has been printing multiple small toys a day, with Mom at the helm of the app. The first week involved quite a bit of troubleshooting—I had to get the internet signal dialed in for a 2.4 GHz connection—but after a router replacement, all is well. Now we’re printing toys like Santa’s 3D workshop. You and Eliza have made dragons, frogs, toothpaste tube pushers, catapults, rubber band shooters, and a whole plethora of other small objects. You’ve started coloring them for extra detail and giving many of them to friends, which I really appreciate. I love seeing how thoughtful you are—and, admittedly, how many of these plastic toys are making their way out of the house.

The surprise hits might have been the table tennis converter and the rotary tool—both of them Mom’s ideas. We play some table tennis at the island, but our dining table turns out to be the perfect size, and we’ve been hitting the ball a lot. You and Eliza are both getting the form and touch down so we can rally, and Mom and I like playing together too. It really is a family gift.

As for the rotary tool, Mom absolutely nailed it. You love finding sticks in the woods and whittling them into spears or carving your name into them. This powered tool lets you drill, carve, and etch more easily, and you’ve already spent a lot of time shaping wood with your imagination. I bet you’ll get even more out of it this summer.

What I like most about this year’s Christmas is that so many of the gifts are about creating. The “little kid” gifts were a fun phase, but I’m glad we’re entering one that’s more about using tools to bring your ideas to life—and even capturing some of those big ideas from the sky with a drone.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 122 Months Old

You’re—dare I say—back into piano. You transcribed the melody for “Character” that you learned in music class and have practiced it every night, along with flourishes of other songs you already know. I learned music the same way—figuring out songs by ear—and it’s a trip to watch you do the same. Mom put an app in front of you so you could practice more formally. You tried it for a night, then went right back to deconstructing music on your own.

The activity is contagious. I find myself sitting at the piano after you. Sometimes I learn something new; often I return to parts of songs I’ve written or know. For the first time in what feels like years, I wrote something new. Nothing fancy—just an E to C chord, trying to figure out how to make a chorus work in some G progression. Some songs I figure out in a night. This one will take time. No lyrics yet. Those come later—or not at all. Mom asks if I should write it down so I don’t forget. I probably should do a quick phone recording, but usually the music sticks after a night of playing.

We’re in the midst of the holidays, so we should probably be playing more “Jingle Bells” and “Carol of the Bells.” The Christmas magic is alive and well. I was a little concerned that you or Matteo might start asking more questions after our trip to Michaels, where Elf on the Shelf was merchandised front and center, boxes of elves piled high. Instead, you told us the elves probably get their magic once they enter a home—so you explained the magic yourself. I’m sure you’re hearing all kinds of stories about Christmas magic at school, and maybe you’re even playing along for us. I don’t mind keeping the spirit and mystery alive. I know I’ll miss it.

As we enter these pre-teen years, Mom and I go back and forth about how much we should push you to grow up faster. As the first-born, there’s no older sibling showing you what’s next. Your bedroom has been a point of focus. There’s a lot packed into that room—books, stuffies, art. We don’t think you need an “older” room yet, but we are trying to reduce the clutter, which means donating or letting go of some “younger” toys and dolls. It’s a balance: figuring out what still matters to you and what you’re growing out of. Good news—we made it through a lot of wall-to-wall decisions, and your room now feels less like a museum of your life and more like the room a 10-year-old needs.

We also need to make some space, because Christmas is right around the corner—and I’m pretty sure a few new things will want to take center stage.

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 101 Months Old

You’ve come up with your own celebratory dance when you’re happy. It’s hard to describe in words, but it looks something like holding something in front of you, gently tapping it with alternating hands, and then transitioning into a little tail-feather shake. The moves are basically hip-hop, and you’re definitely aura-farming when you break them out.

All of that happy dancing points to you being a consistently joyful kid these days. You’re eager to tell us stories about your day, ask questions, or share factoids about the sports teams you’ve been researching. You’ve also stepped up to be the lead chef in the kitchen for morning pancakes.

You’ve taken a big leap in your reading, too. Like your teacher said, it’s all about finding the right books to motivate you — and thankfully the I Survived series captured your imagination. We’ve read about Mt. St. Helens erupting and a shark attack survival story. The books aren’t too scary, but they’re suspenseful, and I love how you never want to stop after just one chapter. Now that you and Eliza are both bookworms, our nighttime routine is easier because you’re willing — instead of forced — to head to your rooms at night.

I feel like this letter is all about big moves toward maturity, and I have one more example: swim lessons. You and Eliza are excellent swimmers, and we thought you’d both enjoy more pool time during the winter and some formal instruction to become even stronger swimmers. Eliza ultimately refused, but you leaned in and have been genuinely excited about the lessons. As with other sports, you make sure you have all the right gear — in this case, jammer shorts, high-end goggles, and a swim cap. The cap pulls on your mullet, but you wince through the pain of getting it on and off. You also impressively swim a ton of laps using different strokes in just 45 minutes! You have a natural butterfly motion, and you’re speedy at freestyle. It’s fun to see you excel in another sport.

We’ve got Christmas ahead, so keep up the good attitude and dance moves. The elves are watching.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 121 Months Old

This past weekend, we may have watched your final days playing on an organized soccer team.

You played a few years ago on a small-sided team, and we were a little surprised earlier this year when you said you wanted to try again — likely inspired by some of your school friends.

But the early excitement didn’t last long. Most of this season has been an on-and-off battle to get you onto the field. You seem to enjoy the practices, but the games… not so much. I remember one game where you were so upset to be there that I had to walk you all the way to your coaches, practically dragging you onto the field. Neither of us was very happy that day.

Mom and I never want to force you into activities you don’t enjoy, but we do want you to finish what you start — especially for your teammates’ sake. You’ve told us that the coaches and games feel a little too intense, and I get that. Sometimes soccer takes itself a bit too seriously, especially for a group of 10-year-olds.

Heading into the last game of the season, you weren’t thrilled about waking up early on a Saturday to play, but we went anyway — and it turned out your team only had nine players, with no subs. It seems we weren’t the only family with waning enthusiasm this late in the season.

With no choice but to play, you ended up having one of your best games yet. You had tons of touches in the first half. Even though you’re one of the smaller players, you’re also one of the fastest, and you put your head down and chased down loose balls again and again. The other team had what felt like an entire second squad of subs, and the fresh legs wore your team out. Down 4–0 at halftime, you moved into goalkeeper — a position you’ve been good at.

Sure enough, they kept coming at you. And you made some great saves, attacking the ball with instinct and zero hesitation. I was so impressed, and the parents on the sideline were too. A few more shots got past you, but none of that mattered. Your effort was unmistakable.

After the game, I half-expected you to be upset about the score, but instead you were in great spirits — maybe proud of your performance, maybe relieved the season was over. Either way, I’ll take the smiles.

And just when we thought soccer was behind us, you went to a birthday party that evening at the new PenMet indoor soccer center — where Mom and I play our adult league games. You ran around with your friends, played even more soccer, and had even more fun in that relaxed setting. Then the next day we were back there again for our games, and you and Matteo spent halftime playing on the field. It was easily the most soccer you’ve ever played in a single weekend. I saw real flashes of skill and joy — the whole point of sports in the first place.

As you know, I grew up playing a lot of soccer, and I genuinely love the game. It’s been wonderful to be back on the field with Mom and our community of friends, staying active and sharing a little competition. I also love that you and Matteo get to see us out there at our “older” age. I want both of you to stay active well into adulthood. It’s good for your body and mind, and it feeds your spirit — knowing you can run, compete, and connect with teammates, friends, and even new people you meet on the field.

While I imagine soccer may wind down for you in the coming months or years — with dance and skiing taking center stage — I have a sneaky suspicion you’ll find your way back to a soccer field now and then. Maybe even on a team again someday. You have too much natural athleticism, and there will always be people to play with.

Just make sure you’re having fun.

Love,
Dad