A Note To The Middle Child

Dear Charlie,

Since you have officially started working on the 6th grade end-of-year biography project and we will be spending a lot of time talking about your life up to this point, I thought I should take a minute to let you know how proud I am of you. I know that I get mad, and yell, and scream, and sometimes you may think that my eyeballs are actually going to come shooting out of my head, but at the end of the day when you are asleep and I'm finally able to sit down with a drink in my hand, I am proud of you.

You were the easiest baby imaginable, then you were an easy-going toddler and even now, in your last year of elementary school, you're still a pretty great kid. Sure, we've had our moments of disagreement -- like that time you forged my signature on a missing assignment notice and I found the dreaded piece of paper in your backpack two weeks later -- but we always manage to work things out.

Since it seems that sometimes the bad moments are more memorable than the good and I'm not well known for dishing out excessive amounts of praise, consider this note as my way of being a dorky mom, embarassing you and saying "job well done" and "way to go."

• I love that even though you will never turn down a violent video game, you have a soft spot for every animal created and are still trying to convince me that we should get a cat, even though we're all allergic.
• I love that you never complain about wearing hand-me-downs.
• I love that you enjoy vacations on the beach as much as I do. I will never forget when our week in Jamaica came to an end, we got on the plane and as soon as the landing gear left the tarmac, you burst into tears.
• I love that you never get sick.
• I love watching you practice the piano while wearing tennis clothes or a baseball uniform.
• I love that you could care less about having your own iPod.
• Even though your sister yells at you almost more than me, I love that you will still voluntarily play with her and laugh at the funny things she does.
• I love that you never ask me to take a trip to hell so that you can attend "Turkey Bingo, Spring Fling" or any of the other school fundraisers.
• I know this makes me slightly irresponsible, but I love listening to you rip on the dorky things that other sixth grade kids do.
• And I love listening to you rip on their parents even more.
• I love that, until recently, you still believed in Santa Claus.

I know that there are times that I am frustrated and sometimes I wonder if you might be deaf, blind, clueless, illiterate and, even though you're standing upright, asleep, but I am also constantly impressed with your intelligence, athleticism, musical ability and generosity.

There are only about three months left in this school year and then you will be headed to the junior high with your brother. Before September arrives, though, there are three things I can guarantee for the summer vacation:

1. We're going to be spending a lot of time at the pool.
2. At some point, but hopefully not everyday, I'll yell.
3. I love you.

As far as the biography project goes, let me know if you want to include this picture since it seems to sum up your personality better than any of the others I found: