Dear Matteo, 75 Months Old

The soccer season is well underway, and we’re off to an undefeated start.

Not that winning matters. But it does.

Your behavior in the context of Dad-as-coach has its twists and turns, and the most recent iteration is you having your own “strategy” for the game, as you call it. That strategy involves you playing defense and watching the game in front you, making the occassional big tackle, and otherwise watching the run of play.

As a result, you’re playing back on the field quite a bit and more passively. You’ll get locked in and chase after a ball a few times on your own, but when I push you to move forward, you remind me of the aforementioend strategy, yelling the reminder to me across the field.

Needless to say, I’d prefer you follow my strategies that get you more active on the field.

This is progress though. Last season, you sat out of a lot of drills at practice that you didn’t like and you blantantly wouldn’t listen to a lot of my instructions on the field. I swore after last season that I wouldn’t couch you again, but duty called for our rec team with a lot of great kids. I can’t complain. The quality of play has gotten better, and we have focused on skills and passing that have resulted in a lot of goals in games.

We’ve scored so much in games that I started requiring the team to pass at least twice before going toward goal. And guess what, then we score even more because we’re spacing out on the field and moving the ball more quickly.

That said, the “team” has been doing a good job with all of that ball movement, and now I need more of that from my new star defender. I’m sure you’ll get the ball trapping and quick passing online — as soon as you decide it’s part of your strategy.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 95 Months Old

Hello there, book worm.

You seem to have your nose in a book most of your free time. Sometimes you’re looking over my shoulder as I readm, and increasingly you’re reading books like “Wish” on your own. At nighttime, you outsource my parenting duties, ask your Alexa for an audiobook, and listen to the narrator until you doze off.

The other day, your Mom and I went on a date, and Grandma Vicki came over to watch you and Matteo for a couple of hours. You got into your evening routine and read in your room. When Grandma checked on your and asked you about reading chapter books, you told her, “I’ve been waiting to do this a long time!”

It’s true, you really practiced reading the last year and now get to enjoy the benefit of exploring new worlds and characters through the pages. Reading is an amazing gift of knowledge and brain exercise that you should keep up. I wish I could say I was a good reader, but I’m really not. I’ll finish 3-4 books a year at most. I have friends that read that many in a month.

Right now, I’m pacing through Rick Rubin’s book, “The Creative Act: A Way of Thinking.” It’s a fantastic, medidative book about creativity with short chapters of 6-12 pages and I just read one at a time before I call it a day. I enjoy reading it, I just don’t get locked in the way you do to keep going and going. I listen to a lot of podcasts so I get my intellectual diet that way, I suppose.

In addition to reading you continue to write a lot. That European vacation book still holds the record for your longest work. Before this school year started, you voluntarily wrote a short autobiography as a gift to your new teacher so she could get to know you. I believe you also had the opportunity to read it in front of the class. For someone who comes across as shy and quiet, you don’t seem to hesitate to communicate through your writing and presenting it.

Of course, I’m creating something for you here that I expected you to read many years down the road, and I overlooked that could be much sooner. It will be a shift writing to you in a way you could read in real-time. I look forward to hearing what you think, after you catch up on the months past.

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 74 Months Old

“That’s a fish, that’s a fish! Grab the net!”

And then we start the fast chain of events to catch a salmon: I pull the rod up off the holder and start reeling and fighting the fish. I pause for a few moments in reeling to free a hand and slow the boat and also turn the switch to pull up the downrigger. You grab the net and get ready toward the front of the boat, peering eagle-eyed into the deep water. We both communicate when we see the fish and where it is relative to the boat, trying to keep it away from the other line still in the water. As the fish comes toward the boat, I tell you when to drop the net and when to pull it up. We see the fish enter the hoop, and you pull with all your strength. All within 30-40 seconds, we have a 8-to-10-pound Coho (silver salmon) flopping around the boat.

You’re unafraid to bat the fish (though I follow-up for certainty) and pull it out of the net. I take a picture of your trophy and winning smile. We bleed it, reset the lines, and continue the adventure.

Whew.

Though I’ve only taken fishing seriously this summer, I get what it’s all about. At minimum, you’re on the water and enjoying the sights of Puget Sound. That’s an easy and given win. Every so often or not for an entire day, a fish bites and the action begins.

When your Mom and I took our fishing trip up to the Kenai to catch sockeye salmon, there were a lot of fish in the river and there was an expectationt to hook one frequently, hence the point of the trip. But down here in Puget Sound and especially Marine Area 13 (south of the Narrows), there aren’t nearly as many fish and so the bites are rare and when they happen it feels like a lottery win. We’ve lost more than a couple of fish, too, and that feels like losing a close game that you want to replay. So you keep fishing.

The downtime in fishing — the vast majority — is a nice aspect for adults (a break from the grind) but can be boring for kids coming off all the excitement of school and dopamine hits of devices. Despite that, you’ve been a great partner and willing to get on the boat whenver I ask. We mix up things up with music and dance parties that get sideways glances from the camo-clad boats we pass when trolling. To each their own.

Like with skiing or hiking, I’m just glad we can enjoy what’s nearby and outside. Now we have a good water sport to keep us busy and together. Maybe we’ll catch a fish and get to eat it, or maybe we’ll just get to hang out and eat gummy bears. Either way, I’m a happy Dad.

Love, Dad

Dear Eliza, 94 Months Old

I was caught suprise by emotion the other day, finishing the final pages of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. The ending isn’t at all dramatic or emotional, more a tidy conclusion of the character puzzle J.K. Rowling famously put together.

It hit me because I bought and read the hardcover book series in my early 20s and held on to it just in case I’d want to read the books to my own family one day. And there I was, finishing up the first book and paying off the possibility. I turned to you after finishing a line from Dumbledore, and you had wide eyes and a smile enjoying the resolution in only the way a book can do.

That look of yours resolved my deep-seeded hopes because I sobbed out the final pages in a way that took you and Mom by surprise as well.

“Is everything OK,” Mom asked.

“Yes, I just can’t believe I am finishing this first book with the kids,” I replied. Your Mom held a look of concern and “are you OK?” at me.

Parenting is a constant passing of one-time moments. First laugh, first words, first steps, first big chapter book. They all matter and the best, too-rare part is enjoying them as they happen.

The last time I was caught by such an outpouring of emotion was a moment I probably documented in another letter, about you falling asleep on my chest, still just big enough to fit. I realized then that you wouldn’t fit too much longer that way and that the chest-to-chest naps and nighttime routines were going away, and they did. So I enjoyed that one in the moment and leaked a few happy tears.

On the subject of reading, you are doing an awesome job reading yourself. I figure you could probably read the Harry Potter book yourself and am glad you’re letting me take that one. I was surprised by some words you were able to read, and you let me know that when you are stuck you’d just ask Alexa how to say a word you spell to the device. That resourcefulness impressed me and is so much more important than reading any one word. Figuring out how to get anything done with the tools around you is the toughest thing to learn. And you nailed it.

On to Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 73 Months Old

Every generation has its set of games that strike like lightning. In the past, that’s been Pogs and Pokemon. For you, it seems Beyblades have reached that level of enthusiasm.

You wake up thinking about Beyblades. You make beds for them at night. We watch the Beyblade TV shows in their multiple derivatives. We talk about how many Beyblades your friends have, and you’ve introduced them to some friends, too. You use voice commands on my phone (because you can’t spell or type much yet) to search for Beyblades and add them to your shopping list. “I want all the Beyblades on my list to come on Christmas, Dad.”

Of course, these aren’t just collectibles. You “fight” with them in your Beystadium. Using a “ripper” you set the tops and battle me or a friend with the countdown: “3, 2, 1. Let it rip!” The ceremony of it all is as consistent as Catholic mass. The tops spin around and bump into each other until one of them stops first and we have a still-spinning winner.

The Beyblades look fairly similar but have different designs on top and some different heights and weights, so far as I can tell. The retailer in me says this sensation of plastic tops has a helluva mark-up. Thankfully, your ever-thrifty Mom found another mom dumping a set of Beyblades in Puyallup and doubled your collection just yesterday for the low cost of $30.

This all is a natural way of discovering and exploring your identity. Hobbies come and go, and they’re a way of growing and exploring yourself. Ghostbusters and then Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were the worlds that I explored and played in as a kid. Adults aren’t so different. I’m learning how to fish salmon and that’s a world of customs and language to learn unto itself. Some adults get too busy to have hobbies or claim not to have them. That’s the result of giving too much time to responsibilites or forgetting the importance of trying something new.

We’ll go all in on Beyblades until we go all in on the next thing. As it should be. Let it rip.

Love, Dad