M is for Matteo.
Pandemic-era virtual school has begun. We joined a “school pod” with another family in the area, so you go to their house and they come to ours once a week. Everyone is about the same age and pre-Kindergarten, so the rigor stops and starts with crayons.
Because your sister writes and draws nearly all of the time, you’ve taken to trying your hand at it. You are writing your Ms really well and can accurately trace the rest of the letters in your bold name. You’re also getting good at making shapes, like circles and triangles. What cracks me up is that both you and Eliza hold a writing utensil properly between your fingers. I always thought it took awhile for kids to figure that out. Parenting is full of funny little surprises like that.
Of course, your attention only sticks to schoolwork and art for so long before you find a ball to play with or object to fashion into a “shooter” (gun). I’ve realized I turned you on to Star Wars far too early because of your tendencies to want to have a shootout or lightsaber battle at any hour. Right now you’re playing with what you call a “doo doo,” which is both a potty joke of yours and set of bath tubes that you’ve connected and claim to be either a space ship or a shooter depending on the moment in your imagination.
You can settle down, occasionally. I enjoyed a classic father-son sports marathon with you this past Sunday. We cruised through some early morning EPL soccer into a Seahawks win (4-0 start) followed by watching some ski films. You’re really into the action sports right now and gave a “whoo” everytime a skier went airborne and twisted or flipped. I can’t say I’ll be a great model for hucking off a kicker, but I’ll cheer you on when you want to try.
We have also been watching the NBA playoffs and dominant LA Lakers. By the time you’ll read this you’ll probably put the 2020 NBA Finals into the last act of Lebron James’s career. Despite the drama of the game, you fell asleep the other night in my arms and I got to enjoy what felt like the last moments of a toddler quickly growing into big boy. I’m not sure how many of those I have left, so we sat on the couch like that for a long evening. And the Lakers won.
Love, Dad