Dear Eliza 132, Months Old

Dear Eliza, 132 Months Old

“What’s 11 x 12?” you asked me this morning.

I’m not that quick with my times tables, so I broke it down: “Well, what’s 10 x 12?”

“120,” you answered.

“Perfect. Now add 12.”

“132.”

“Yep.”

“So you’ve written 132 letters for me?”

Apparently, I’m not that quick at picking up on underlying questions, either. “Yep, 132 letters, and I’m more than halfway until you turn 18.”

“Why do you write them?”

“Oh, so maybe in the future, when you’re my age, it will be helpful to understand what I was thinking when I was in your shoes. Or hopefully, they’ll help you remember me when I’m gone. They’re my gift to you and a way for me to think about where we are now, too.”

And with that answer, you were satisfied to go back to eating your Nutella pancake.

Happy 11th birthday, Eliza. You are such a thoughtful, inquisitive, curious person. That conversation is just one small example.

The maturity curve is moving fast, and I see it in your decisions and behaviors. For example, this year’s birthday party was really a sleepover with a few of your closest friends. We went back and forth for weeks deciding whether the activity would be an escape room — leaning into your enjoyment of creepy things and appropriate for a Halloween-month birthday — or a “spa day” with all the pampering and self care. You and Mom landed on the latter, and I know Mom had fun getting you and your girlfriends matching cheetah-print robes and little items for skin and nail care.

My job was simple: get Matteo out of the house. He and I went to see a movie, and, to his credit, he did a good job of leaving your girls alone during the other hours.

As for your birthday festivities with the family, we celebrated you throughout the weekend. That included the traditional donut with a candle in the morning, opening gifts, and baking yourself a cake. The “big” present from us was Olivia Rodrigo tickets — your first “real” concert experience. That will be a dad-daughter date in early December. Mom and I had a few conversations about it before I went for the tickets because her lyrics are explicit or touch on some adult themes, but I think the spectacle of the show will capture your attention more than anything. You’re into performing arts in such a big way, and her new album is truly excellent. I think this will be a first concert worth bragging about.

I’m glad we’ll have a special night out because, as you get older, you’re tending to prefer time with Mom. That makes total sense! The preteen years are weird, and you’re going to want to lean into her for advice. You’ve been more private in general with your time and with how much you share about what’s happening at school and with friends. You’re not rude, just shorter with your answers and more thoughtful about what you want to talk about with us. That dynamic will require a little more creativity on my end to find ways to get you to want to hang out with Dad. Good news: I’m up for it!

I hope this birthday was a memorable one for you. Only two more years until you’re a teenager! Ahhh!

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 111 Months Old

In the context of school, we’ve been talking lately about work ethic and accountability.

You’ve been a little too reluctant, passive, and combative about getting your homework done, often blaming everyone else for what’s wrong with the homework or why some of the problems aren’t clicking for you. Not unlike when you were a baby, Mom and I have realized that schedules matter and that getting you on one would be key to your success. We’ve reset the timing so there’s less optionality around when or whether homework happens, while also considering when you have the energy and a good attitude to be productive. Of course, homework is also a new reality as you climb the grades. The work gets harder and more voluminous. We’ll help be your pace setters!

While you haven’t been as academically inclined, you’ve shown more interest in doing some hard work outside. Maybe that’s a sign of things to come? It’s almost Christmas lights season, and you volunteered to go on the roof. Instead of hanging lights, I let you and Eliza go up on the least consequential backside of the roof, above the dining room, to remove some moss and spread baking soda for moss control. You were both super comfortable up there, maybe a little too comfortable. You pleaded for more time when I told you the job was done and it was time to come down. Afterward, I let you stay on the ladder to help clean the gutters for an additional $10 in allowance.

The next day, it was my turn to go up on the much taller roof at the cabin to brush off heaps of tree debris, wash the skylights, and spread moss control. Fresh off your roof experience, you begged to come up with me, but that was just a little too much danger for one weekend. When I said no, you argued and complained, which I paid only slight attention to, as I was more focused on my own balance and safety while walking on the shingles. We did allow you to climb the ladder to bring me cleaning supplies, so you got a little taste of the view.

After that taste of heights and additional income, you’ve become fixated on starting your own business and have been considering some combination of lawn mowing, roof treatment, gutter cleaning, and dog poop pickup. My guess is that you’ll stick closer to the ground with lawn care before taking on anything else. I’ve asked you to work on a business plan that includes your services, supply costs, and rates. So far, you’ve designed a business card on Canva, which is a good enough start.

While you wait for business to get going, you’ve put some work into building a fort near the cabin. After some pruning, you’ve created a nice pad for you and Eliza to hang out with your friends. That’s a good solution while we determine whether we can build a garage with a proper loft for you to call your own. Maybe you can contribute to the build with your future earnings?

I’m glad to see you so productive and motivated. Now, just channel a little of that energy back into the classroom. You’ll need the mental skills to apply to your business, even if it involves working with your hands.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 131 Months Old

Dear Eliza,

The new school year is starting up, and you are at the top of your class as a 5th grader at Artondale Elementary. Your back-to-school attire is on point. Mom helped you update your wardrobe with oversized shirts, and you 3D-printed a variety of new earrings. We also convinced you to wear your brother’s high-top Nike shoes that he’s grown out of.

With the transition to fall, we are also working on getting more organized and less cluttered around the house. We started in the backyard, where we took out the cherry trees, which were growing over the house. We took out one more than we wanted to, which had rotted out, so now we have so much more sunlight in the backyard, which makes Mom happy. I also have far fewer leaves to rake this fall, which makes me happy.

Inside the house, I got on the garage, added a couple of lockers, and recreated some parking and boat space for the colder months ahead. Mom and I decided that we’ll tackle one big, arguably overdue project to add new flooring all over the house, including transitioning the carpeted bedrooms to LVP (vinyl). It feels good to invest in the house. We will be here for a while, at least to get you two through high school. Said differently, we will have to wait for a home with a different (and hopefully literal) view by then.

With school starting, your extracurricular activities have also started up. You decided to try gymnastics with some friends. After listening to a Bill Simmons podcast about rating kids’ sports, I reflected that gymnastics might not be a good fit because of the stress on the body and risk of injury. Sure enough, one of your friends broke her arm performing a fairly common technique. You said you heard the snap, and it sounded like someone slamming a table. I think we’ll get through this gymnastics session and get you back into dance.

You also started musical theater at school, which is also one of Mom’s big successes as PTA president, having brought the programming to the school. About 10 more students joined the student company compared to last year, and maybe that’s because the musical is “Finding Nemo.” You earned the part of Bloat, which has more lines in the dialogue and songs than last year. You are at school four days a week rehearsing for the next few weeks. Matteo opted out this year, but we will never forget his residency as Piglet in “Winnie the Pooh.”

I am liking all of the newness of the season. I can tell that you’re excited about your activities and feeling confident in how you’re showing up with your friends and at school. I know this school year will be a particularly memorable one because there’s nothing quite like being at the top. Enjoy every day of it!

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 110 Months Old

Dear Matteo,

A transition is happening where you are starting to see me and your Mom as people, not just parents who take care of you and design your day. This isn’t a fast revelation and will take more years, if not decades, as your world opens up and you start to judge how we’ve navigated it to inform your own direction and decisions.

The hints are subtle but becoming more frequent. They sound like:

“Mom said that if I mowed the lawn, I’d get a pack of baseball cards, but she hasn’t paid me yet, and that’s unfair.”

“Are you working on school again or grading? What did you teach your students about?”

“You’re stressing me out about [topic], and I told you I don’t want to talk about it, so why won’t you just listen to me?”

“What are your favorite things to do when you’re bored?”

This isn’t just you being more independent, but assessments of how we act and behave. I don’t remember looking at my parents as people until I was well into my teenage years, and especially my 20s, but I’m sure I noticed earlier, which is why I’m tuning into the dynamic now.

Eliza is ahead of you on this growing perception, but she isn’t as vocal about her observations and is sly about using them to her advantage. An example of this is realizing when I’m not paying enough attention, and so she whispers to provoke you and get you in trouble. She gets caught for that sometimes, too. I don’t have to hear things to know they happen.

Not all of your signals are externalized. You can tell when I’m getting tired of throwing a ball or totally tired and need a midday nap. You can tell when I am anxious or upset and quickly stop nagging your sister to act right to see if that helps me feel better. You can tell when I’m overexcited or overjoyed. You ask if you can tickle me to force out the rare cackle.

I also think about how I can make an impression on your growing awareness, taking you fishing one-on-one, looking ahead to getting you to a Husky football game, and of course, making more plans for international travel that I am also motivated by. Sometimes I feel like we have all the time in the world, and other times I feel like I’m missing opportunities to make the most out of this life stage. Your Mom does a good job encouraging me to relax and just enjoy the time, which is the best advice.

As you get to know us better as people, you’ll probably realize that your Mom is that important unlock for our family. I bring ideas and enthusiasm. She brings poise and perspective. Maybe that’s the best lesson you can take from the people we are: we don’t do it all on our own. We lean on each other and find the balance.

Love,

Dad

Dear Eliza, 130 Months Old

We just returned from another “Buoy 10” trip to Fort Stevens outside Astoria, Oregon. We joined this annual tradition that our friends John and Lindsey invited us into a few years ago. The trip is part “grocery shopping,” where the Dads fish for Chinook salmon, and part “family camping,” where we hang out with a few other Gig Harbor families. Our “camp” is a cul-de-sac called K Loop, with one-bedroom, one-bathroom cabins for each family. In the grand scheme of camping, this is definitely on the fancy side.

Whenever we mix with other families, you tend to adopt a little one to take care of and be a big sister to. This time, you spent the most time with Olivia, who is probably 4 years old and loved following you around. You hung back with her on bike rides and made sure she stayed entertained. When you weren't together, Olivia would look for you and walk unannounced into our cabin asking, “Where's Wiza?”

This desire to care for someone smaller than you tracks with your interest in getting a babysitting license. I'm not sure if that's a real license because I'm not sure what civic authority would offer it, but you told me you're eligible starting at age 12. I'll have to look into that. I know you're also inspired by reading The Babysitters Club, so maybe that's where you got the idea. I told you the going rate for babysitting is $20 per hour, so when you start that first job, you can make some real money. I think I also convinced you that the math homework you dislike may be worth the effort when you get to multiply hours by a dollar rate to figure out your income potential.

When you weren't watching out for Olivia, you spent plenty of time with friends your age making movies on your iPad and building out a fort in the woods a few camp loops away. We also made several trips to the beach for time in the sand, which we swept out of the cabin for the balance of the trip.

Between my early mornings fishing (4:30 a.m. wake-up calls) and you and Matteo traveling by bike all day, I felt like I barely saw you two. That's OK because this is one of those trips where you spend time with friends and not a true family vacation where it's just the four of us. In a lot of ways, Mom and I got more downtime because you kept yourselves so busy, just checking in for meals.

Speaking of meals, we were responsible for one shared dinner and opted for homemade pizza with our portable outdoor oven and Nonna's Sunday ragù, which your Mom absolutely nailed. You could eat that sauce like soup, especially with pork roast that fell off the bone. All the parents were impressed by our bar-raising meal, and I am sure we have set expectations for a repeat menu next year.

We got away one afternoon to head into Astoria. I pushed us toward a Nicaraguan restaurant because rice, beans and fried plantains sounded so good to me, but you were less enthusiastic. We made up for it with ice cream later. We also stopped by the Goonies house, where Mom performed a “Truffle Shuffle.” We put real effort into keeping ourselves entertained and providing you some mild embarrassment. “Hey, you guys!!!”

We got back home today with a cooler full of salmon fillets and some good memories. I'm sure we'll be back next year, and you may have some more hard-earned money in your pocket to spend at the camp store.

Love,
Dad