Dear Eliza 102 Months Old

I am writing from you in Palm Desert during our last trip staying at Gigi’s condo.

We are here for spring break, and we’re in a line of family staying here the last month before a new owner takes over. I have been coming here for something like 25 years now, and it’s bittersweet to know this is the last time we get to stay where Gramps and Grams lived. I was emotional on the drive from the airport and walking into the quiet, picture-less condo one last time without hearing Gram’s welcoming voice and conversation.

That said, your Mom and I motivated to come back to this community in Palm Desert to continue the tradition. Although we couldn’t afford to buy the condo we can afford to come back for a monthly rental and it’d be nice to think of extending spring break to two weeks and maybe inviting Aunt Nina and family or other friends to use a condo for a week to help split the bill. I know that your Mom can use the desert sun once a year. She sparkles with a tan.

We mixed things up this trip and visited Indian Canyon outside of Palm Springs. What a treat. The hike along a stream was lush with trees and lizard zigzaging the trail. We saw a big horn sheep atop a valley peak and a rattlesnake slowly making its way under an uncut palm tree. You were whiny on a lot of the hike because you were so hot and found a better attitude once we went off trail to climb some boulders to follow the waterline. There’s something about climbing that takes your mind off the discomfort of everything else.

We’re about halfway through this trip and I’m hoping we all get to enjoy some more fun and quiet time. You deserve some R&R after a lot of time in second grade. We’ll continue to balance play time in the pool with screen time and sightseeing to mix it up. I’m thankful for the warm sun, sweet grapefruit off of Gram’s backyard tree and a lot of family time on this last trip to the family condo.

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 81 Months Old

More money, more problems.

Your Mom and I established an allowance-for-chores system that lasted a few short weeks before the allowance payments turned a la carte. As I believe I wrote in another letter, your respective colors showed: Eliza is the allowance saver, and you are the instant spender.

Your income streams recently diversified. The Easter Bunny who showed up at Popa’s house loaded up eggs with coins and dollars. Popa also took you and Eliza to Wal-Mart for your first Coinstar experience, dumping an oatmeal barrel of mostly pennies into the machine. You were delighted to see the tally add up, and you two split $28 after fees.

That money must have been burning a hole in your pocket because you went on an instant spending spree, starting right away buying some Pokemon cards before we left Indiana.

You also asked Mom to purchase you a safe (not a piggy bank) that hit our budget and spared yours somehow. We counted out the money down to the many pennies and wound up with $29 deposited from Easter and the Coinstar spree.

You explained as we counted, “If a bad guy comes into our house, he won’t be able to steal my money in this safe.”

You were excited to have your own secret code and talked out loud about the different 4-digit combinations you could use. Broadcasting your safe code isn’t the best way to keep it shut and away from the bad guys.

Soon you “bought” a Beyblades set that we had in the garage for future birthday gifting. I thought you were over those toys, but you were too tempted by the unopened box in plain sight. The next day, we went to Metro Retro in Tacoma to buy a special Pokémon card and a pack that ended up having a couple valuable cards in it. Later, you tried to persuade Mom into buying another Pokémon set online, but I reminded her you hadn’t paid up for the last purchase. You reacted “strongly” (threw a tantrum) to the news that you were out of money – and we weren’t taking on debt for you.

It will take you some time to get $29 back in that safe. Maybe you’ll sell some Pokemon cards to expedite the time. Or maybe you’ll buy another Pokemon pack after you get the next $5 in hand. I’ll help keep you on track to make the wiser choice.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 101 Months old

Mom and I had a chance to get away last week and head to Austin, TX, where I had a work conference called SXSW. As you may recall, Mom and I went to Austin a couple of years ago for our wedding anniversary. Like with California, you get the heat there, and we were ready for a warm-up. This was our longest trip away from you and Matteo, totaling five nights. To cover the time, you kids got to have a sleepover with Austin (the kid, not the city) and Aliyah and then Grandma Vicki stayed with you at our house. We were thankful for the coverage!

When you get the chance to go to Austin, I bet you’ll love it. The food, especially Tex-Mex and BBQ, is world-class. The city is walkable with a great neighborhood pockets. It’s one of the few cities I would consider relocating to — it’s that good. Your Mom got the rest and relaxation she needed to catch up on sleep, read books, and explore the city without two lovely children who tend to say “Mom” every 10-15 waking seconds.

After we had our fun, we came back home to jet to the Barnacle Cabin for the weekend. Although it’s only March, temps reached 70 degrees and that made for an early “opening weekend” to spend time on the beaches and make s’mores at the spit after dinner. Because it was so early in the season, we practically had the island to ourselves.

We took advantage of the quiet island with few drivers on the road to get you and Matteo to practice bike riding. You were more nervous than Matteo but eventually took to it, and we could hardly get you to come back inside by the second day of practice. You took your first full ride around the community with Mom and I trying to keep up, running behind you. I have long imagined this phase where you are free and independent by bike. I can already see you and Matteo going back and forth from the pool, just a few short blocks away and a minute by bike.

Since we came back home, you’ve been taking advantage of the weather to ride your bikes to the bus stop, too. You leave your bikes behind some trees and ride them home in the afternoon. As it should be. Your Mom and I are starting to wonder how much longer we’ll have to escort you from place to place because you’re getting to be so independent. But then you ask if we can drive to the bus stop on a rainy day or just turn around on your bikes when you see you’re getting too far ahead to come back by us. We’ve got a little longer.

Love, Dad

Dear Matteo, 80 Months Old

A continuous challenge in parenting is finding the best way to discipline. It’s a moving target because kids grow and evolve through challenges (to be disciplined) and motivations (to be rewarded or removed).

I was talking to our friend Sean Allphin about child discipline the other day, and he said books were the motivation for him growing up. He didn’t care about being punished or grounded mostly because he loved reading and just got more time to read in his room. Finally, his mother, a school librarian of all things, took away his books to punish him and that did it. He never wanted to do wrong again.

Book removal would also be a suitable punishment for your sister, but I have a hard time imagining that we’d take a way such an important learning tool. That is, of course, unless she pushes us.

As for me, I simply didn’t want to disappoint my parents. Your Nonno would let me know if I failed him or dissappointed him and especially if I disappointed my Mom (your Grandma Vicki). It hurt more if he told me she was upset than if she told me herself. By all accounts, I was a good kid so that didn’t happen often so when I was punished it really mattered because I really screwed up.

Mom and I have struggled over the years with how best to discipline you effectively for wrongdoings and especially poor listening. We’ve taken toys away, but you don’t care and just play with something else. Verbal punishment certainly doesn’t work because you talk back and always want to get the last word in. We’ve taken away shows and movies, but you seem to know that if there isn’t a show today, there could be one tomorrow. You’re generally fearless of punishment and make sure to let us know.

We learned that screen time is the ticket to get you in line, with some important nuance. The screen time has to be related to your Kindle Fire, not just TV time in general. You and Eliza only get to use the Kindle Fire on longer road trips to the cabin or up to the mountain skiing, so it’s special occasion. We had taken the Kindle Fire away entirely before, and in hindsight I realize that was too limited for us because we’d only have one shot at taking it away for effect. We sometimes have to pile on the punishment to get you to snap in line.

Credit to your Mom, she started taking away minutes from your Kindle: “Matteo, you talked back. That’s 5 minutes away from your Kindle time.” Later, “Matteo, don’t yell at your sister, now you’re up to 10 minutes of lost screen time.” These cumulative minutes have added up to 20 before, and when we’re in the car for a next long drive, you agonize over not using your Kindle Fire right away like Eliza and really feel the loss. Eliza’s not immune either. She’s lost screen time minutes, just not as many.

There’s an unexpected benefit, too. You watch the clock and count the remaining penalty box time. You’re doing math by the minute.

All of this is to say that parenting you hasn’t always been obvious to us or automatic getting you or Eliza to desired behaviors. There’s no manual, just trial and error, success and frustration, for everyone. But the times when we get it right, it’s like magic. We’re all happy and acting right.

I share this now because you’re going to have your own trials trying to determine the best way to handle a situation, find an incentive or motivation and change behavior and not limited to parenting. You’ll get frustrated and even feel like you’re sliding backwards. But if you’re in charge, you’ll find the patience and get it right.

Love,

Dad

Dear Eliza, 100 Months Old

I have to be honest. When I committed to writing you monthly letters, I was a naive, new parent and didn’t perceive the scale of the effort. I didn’t know that you’d have a brother who I would also have to write to at the same cadence. So here we are at letter #100, and I’m so thankful for this project to connect us over time and help me reflect and document in the moment.

I also didn’t calculate how quickly you could read these letters. I always write to you as a peer, a future adult, but already at age 8 you can read these letters. Not that you want to yet. You can’t easily access webpages on your devices (thank God) and the subject matter would probably bore you anyway.

Of course, you love to read. I am so happy to have a big reader in the household. You make up for the rest of us. We couldn’t quench your reading habit with just the weekly school library visit and can’t afford to buy you books at the rate you fly through them. I learned that the hard way purchasing a small series of “The Babysitter’s Club” in graphic novel form that you completed in a weekend. That was a fast way to burn $60.

I smartened up and bought you and Matteo your own Kindle reading devices with an unlimited subscription to check out kids books. You’re flying through more of “The Babysitter’s Club” and some unicorn-themed chapter books. My only complaint is that you’ve become used to staying up reading until 10 p.m. most nights, and we firmly have to “shut things down” so that you’re not a crankpot in the mornings.

Another fun, unexpected dynamic is that you like to use your new Kindle to follow along our usual nighttime readings of the Harry Potter series. We’ve almost completed “The Goblet of Fire.” We sit side-by-side with our respective editions as I read aloud. I have to stay locked into my reading because if I miss or skip a word, you correct me. I never expected that kind of oversight, and I laugh every time it happens. I have become a better reader, I’m sure, out of fear of correction. So much for breezing through books in the interest of time or skipping scary parts. You’re all in.

As I write these letters I try not to look too far out, but on this centennial letter I recognize that I’m almost halfway done and will surely finish the series when you turn 18. Don’t worry, I can keep writing you letters from there and probably will anyway. Good habits are hard to break.

Love, Dad