November 3, 2023
Dear Leland and Everett,
It’s been almost 2 months since my last note. In that time, I’ve garnered more potential topics to cover than I can track. As a result, I feel slightly overwhelmed by the decision of which topic to cover. In order to overcome the overwhelm, I’ve set a very modest goal for today: write a brief, even bad, letter. My hypothesis is that by writing today, I will establish momentum that makes it easier for me to write again on Monday (or Tuesday, depending on how schedules evolve). Also, by keeping the goal modest, I allow myself to move past the temptation to feel as though my topic and writing need somehow justify the hiatus. Perhaps said differently, I am setting a goal that prevents me from making perfect the enemy of good.
So today I just want to discuss briefly why the hiatus, and the recent change I hope will allow me to write more frequently going forward. As it turns out, the two of you are intimately involved.
Last school year Leland was enrolled in an afterschool program at the campus where Everett attended preschool. This allowed your mom and me to pick the two of you up together after work. We had already paid for the full year, so we just let you finish out the year. After I quit my job, I would periodically pick you up early to take you somewhere to play; most days however I used that time to catch up on things I wanted or needed to do.
This year Everett enrolled in Kindergarten at Leland’s elementary school, and Leland seemed like he was getting bored with the afterschool program. So I decided not to enroll you there this year, at least not at the beginning of the year. Instead, I decided to experiment with not enrolling you in afterschool at all, and just picked you up from school directly. The experiment’s results have been mixed: I’ve enjoyed spending the extra time with you, and you’ve enjoyed playing with each other and (to a lesser extent) me; conversely I’ve had far less time to myself to do things like write, and frankly I think you’ve gotten a little bored.
I don’t regret not signing you up for after school to start the year: as mentioned above I’ve enjoyed the time with you and you enjoyed the time with each other; also, after a pretty busy and hectic summer, I think you both enjoyed some downtime to recharge your batteries a bit. But after a couple months, I think we have refilled our cups in terms of feeling caught up with each other and generally feeling replenished and rejuvenated. In the meantime, I was finding that I was struggling to keep up with things I wanted to do (including writing), and that I was starting to feel frustrated as a result.
The change came parent/teacher conference week. Your school let you out at lunchtime all week so that your teachers had time to meet with parents. Your school’s afterschool program sent a note announcing that they would take drop-ins (for a fee, of course) that week, which enabled me to run an experiment. I signed you up for afterschool twice that week. To my surprise, you were both excited. Early in the school year, you had both expressed desire not to join an afterschool program, and I assumed you still wanted to avoid afterschool. What I did not appreciate was that many of your friends were attending the afterschool program, and so you actually wanted to participate. That pilot week you enjoyed the program so much that you asked to keep going, and so I signed you up (for now) on a part time basis (3 days/wk) ongoing.
I’m excited for the two of you because this afterschool program broadly offers free play with a few structured activities; from what I can tell, it looks like a really good place for you to be and play with your friends. I’m also excited for me, because I get another 12 hours/wk to myself, which I think will help me return to writing regularly. I very much recognize the irony that I am exchanging time writing the future you instead of spending time with you now; but the truth is that we write to discover ourselves, and share our writing with those with whom we hope to share our discoveries. And so I think this will be a win for all involved: again, you both seem energized and stimulated by the opportunity to spend time playing with friends, and I look forward to writing again.
Of course, the transition has not been without its bumps. Earlier this week Leland announced that Everett “got into a fight with a 5th grader”. When I asked for more details, Leland explained that, while playing wall-ball with the older kids, Everett kept catching and kicking the ball away. I looked at Everett, who had a forced smile on his face suggesting he knew he had done something wrong but didn’t exactly understand why. Somehow I recognized this behavior sounded like a plea for attention, and so I asked “did you want to play with Leland?” I’ll never forget Everett’s response: I knew right away I had found the issue. Everett whimpered “uh huh”, his face fell, and he said “I wanted to play with Leland!” as he cried and cried. Everett just missed playing with his big brother; the two of you played together basically every day after school for almost three months, and suddenly Leland was off playing with older kids three days a week.
I pulled Leland aside and told him that if Everett didn’t enjoy afterschool (and he’s complained about going a couple of times this past week), then I would have to pull him out; and if I pulled Everett out I would have to pull Leland out too. Leland said “but the reason I want to go to afterschool is to play with my friends!”. I said “I know. And I’m not saying you have to play with Everett. But I am just telling you the truth. I’m also suggesting that you have the ability to figure this out.” My strong suspicion is that even just acknowledging Everett and helping him feel seen, safe, and welcome in this new environment (he’s in an afterschool program of K-5th graders, after all!) will be enough to help Everett thrive. Of course Leland is so pragmatic and logic-driven that he doesn’t appreciate Everett’s emotional needs nor how Leland can help. But that’s why I challenged Leland in the way that I did: left to his own devices Leland won’t notice or adjust, but in my experience when prodded Leland is able to find solutions that suit his personality but meet the needs of the more emotionally attuned/needy in his orbit (especially his dad and brother). So I didn’t want to tell Leland specifically what to do nor how to do it, but I did want to give him a prod so that he could find a solution that worked for both himself and the little brother that missed playing with him.
I love you both.
Love,
Dad
Letters to Leland 