June 2016: 69 months (5 years and 9 months)

Dear Patrick,

• I want to remember your handwriting at this age: your “c” are not rounded - they are boxes missing the right side. Also, the “tail” on your lowercase “a” is on the left, not the right. When we point this out to you, you say, “but I like it that way.”
• As I was washing dishes, I watched through the kitchen window as you and JP carefully put “pop-its” under each tire of my car. You both brought your hands to your mouth and laughed conspiratorially like the cartoon cat in Tom & Jerry. Later that day when I moved my car, there was a loud pop.
• I like hearing you sing and hum to yourself when you are alone in the playroom or brushing your teeth.
• You asked me as we were driving home from school one day, “Do you know the movie Frozen?” I answered, “Of course - remember when you were little and we use to dance and sing parts of the movie?” You were quiet and then said, “Well, I do not dance anymore - - only to rock and roll.”
• “Mom, don’t rub Dad’s legs,” you whispered to me as I was getting out of bed one morning. You didn’t want me to wake him - you wanted to snuggle him all to yourself. It was sweet. Then, the very next morning, you apparently said to your father after I had already left the room, “Dad, are you going to work? Go take a shower!” You said this just so you could play your father’s iphone games by yourself. And apparently you spent all your father's "gold" without his permission.
• We watched the movie “Zootopia” this month and I loved how you laid on me, belly to belly and your head on my chest. Later that night, you said the dart gun part was a little scary but we “turned it around” so you could sleep.
• I read to you the handwritten letter that I sent to a friend whose father was diagnosed with the end stages of cancer and was going to die. I knew that was a little heavy for a five year old and that you wouldn't really be able to take that all in, but I want to make you aware of the struggles of others.
• Your father had an epic birthday. One word: limo.
• It is now a Father’s Day tradition with the Satterfields that we have celebrated two years in a row at the lake.
• You are 45.5 inches tall and 39 pounds, which was confirmed at the doc-in-the-box on Sunday 6/26. We spent 3 hours there (uugghh!) and finally left with antibiotic for your sore throat. (I did like the game we made up called "hot-potato-elephant," which we played to pass the time.) We rewarded your patience and ours with a trip to Yogurt Mountain.
• Omi and Pop waited an extra day in Greenville to make sure you were feeling okay and then they took you (and your medicines) to back to Macon for camp. Your Dad and I came down that next week to visit and pick you up.
• While in Macon, you took a swim lesson every day at the Wellness Center. We got a video of you swimming the length of the pool alone multiple times - very impressive. Omi also took a particularly funny video of you talking about a cow...
• When you were at camp, your father and I realized we had a lot more time in the morning since we didn’t have to say 500 times: “Patrick, eat your oatmeal. Patrick, brush your teeth. Patrick, get dressed. Patrick, why aren’t you dressed?”

May 2016: 68 months (5 years and 8 months)

Dear Patrick,

• On Saturday 5/7, there was a swim assessment at Stone Lake Pool. “A test?” you asked. “Nah, not a test...it’s really more to show everyone that you aren’t scared of the water - just do the best you can,” we told you. At the pool, the crowd of parents and kids formed a semi-circle and listened to the coach explain how swimming the length of the pool, one child at a time, alone, as adults with clipboards made notes was, in fact, a test to determine which child would be on swim team, be a “guppy" or need basic lessons. The coach was quick to say there was no “failing” this “test," but he had used the words and in doing so, it brought parameters and anxiety - my own; not yours. I felt fear in my stomach as I saw you happily swing your feet and wait your turn on a bench in the back. Your dad and I watched the other kids - some made it, some did not - there were cheers and tears. You were one of the last to go. The water was brutally cold. And when you finally jumped in, you sank like a stone - maybe from the shock of the temperature or maybe because it had been a whole year without practice. But you popped up like a buoy and tried again. You moved forward in the water a few feet before turning to look for the side of the pool; your little arm stretched out to grab hold of the concrete. My heart sank. According to the coach when a swimmer touches the side, the test is over. I had heard another mother tell someone standing near me that she had taken her children to the Y to practice that morning and if I had thought of it, maybe I would have done the same...but I hadn’t. You pulled yourself up and out of the water and stood hunched over, letting the water run off. As I walked towards your wet, soggy, little half-moon of a body, I prepared the pep talk I would give you. I couldn’t see your eyes since you still had on your goggles and as I approached, you slid them to the top of your head.  “Well,” you said before I could say anything, “I did the best I could - just like you told me. I did GREAT.” You were proud of yourself. Yes you did, Patrick. Really, really great.
• You dropped a toy down the sink drain while your were suppose to be brushing your teeth on Wednesday morning 5/11, and I had to use pliers to remove it. “Please don’t drop your finger-laser lights down the sink again,” I said. And then wondered how often the obvious is said out-loud in this house.
• “Go brush your teeth,” your dad told you before bed one night. With an impish grin you said back, “Bo buffer beef.” I mean, that’s just plain funny.  
• Snowy the owl is a “Douglas toy,” which is a brand of stuffed animal. But now that you are starting to read and have discovered this tag, you believe Snowy’s actual name is Snowy Douglas Byrd. And we have to use her full name.
• Your Pop likes to send us articles. Ever the educator, Pop passes along information to help us grow and be more aware. The other day was a heartbreaking report about a group of college kids who were done with exams and on a road-trip, but they were killed in a car crash. It was so horrific, sudden and sad. It is almost paralyzing to think of you, Patrick, venturing into the world and making it your own -- not because I doubt your ability to make good choices or our ability to help steer you, but there is just so much out of our collective control.
• I heard you tell your dad, “I need my crossbow. I don’t know where it is...but will you just look all over for it?” Is it odd how much you believe we are here to serve your every whim, or the fact that your whim is for a crossbow?
• “You know why Bunky wears short sleeves,” you told me. “Because he has big muscles and if he wore long sleeves they wouldn’t fit.”
• Sonny was in town mid-month for a visit and there was trip the grocery store. Apparently, you asked to carry the bread, but you were denied this privilege by your father who cited efficiency concerns. On the way home, I was told that you said with a sarcastic tone, "well, I wanted to carry the bread but Mr. Snoopy Pants wouldn't let me." Uncle Sonny now calls your father Snoopy Pants. 
• You graduated from K4 on Thursday 5/19. When you accepted your certificate, you said loudly and clearly, “Thank you Mrs. Ginny” which made all the parents in the audience “ooh” and “awwe” at your politeness. There was a part of the program where the teacher asked each student what they wanted to be when they grew up. The kids answered the question with a single word profession, but you basically leaned into the mic and said, “Well, Debra, I’m glad you asked…” (Okay, not quite that formal but pretty close.) 
• On 5/30 we celebrated Memorial Day at your Biggie and Gangie's house with home-cooked ribs and corn on the cob, which you don't like (what kid doesn't like corn on the cob?!!) but at least tried. You painted and rode your razor scooter like a pro. The Stewarts and your great grandparents were there, and I was struck by how wonderful it is that you are growing up with so much family (and love) around you. 
• “Mom, can you stand at a bus stop with me and we ride a real bus one day - not a school bus - a real bus.” We were driving home and passed the bus stop at the corner of Chick Springs and Wade Hampton. I wanted to tell you that the Greenville public bus system is not quite as dreamy as you might think, but instead I just replied, “Absolutely - you and I are going to go on a lot of adventures together, Patrick.” And I can’t wait.

April 2016: 67 months (5 years and 7 months)

Dear Patrick,

• On the first of April, I had the idea to re-locate the popsicles from the front freezer to the back, and leave an empty box for you to find as a joke. “Let’s tell him that we ate them all,” your dad offered as my co-conspirator, but ultimately we decided that was maybe taking it too far - we didn’t want to be mean; we just wanted to be funny on April Fools Day. In truth, I never really "get" this day, and trying to explain it to you earlier that morning was like the blind leading the blind. A day that gives permission to deliberately trick, lie or fool another - why is this appealing? “Oh, it's harmless - it gives you a chance to laugh at yourself,” a friend told me later, which is fine, I guess, for adults who have a sense of self. But to possibly make a child upset by doubting what they know to be true - it’s just not for me - especially after this experience. As soon as we shouted “April Fools,” into your sad, little face, I knew this was wrong. You tried to smile, but I could tell you were upset. We tricked you - your own parents! We had never done this before. You were disappointed, embarrassed... and then you got mad. You clenched your hand into a little fist and out of pure frustration, you hit my leg. It didn’t hurt, of course, and I actually wasn’t sure if you too were just joking, but your father saw the intent on your face, and all of a sudden, we had another problem. “Don’t you ever hit a woman - I don’t care how mad you are,” your dad said while directing you to sit in the corner. There were a lot of tears and ultimately some good lessons learned for all three of us: respect, self control, mutual kindness, trust is sacred, forgiveness is important, and above all: don’t f&% with your dessert.    
• You read the words: “nip,” “bug” and “tot” off a worksheet from school - you are getting really good at sounding out letters to make words. (You did, however, tell me that “F is for vagina,” so there is more work to do.)
• On Sunday 4/3 you threw the Harry Potter wand that the Cordell family gave you into the trash because apparently Millie had said that it wasn’t real. You explained to me with tears in your eyes, “It’s true - it doesn’t really make spells.” So, I told you that it’s magical as long as you believe in it, and that I believe in magic. I wanted to keep the wand. I’m not ready to let you give up on magic.
• Trying to remember what you had for lunch yesterday, you said, “Hmm... let me read the book in my mind.”
• Big Mitchell enrolled you in tennis lessons on Saturday mornings at 8:30am. He got you the greatest Air Jordan warm up suit! I’m not sure about your skills, but you do look the part.
• More exciting than Santa or the Tooth Fairy, are the “bathroom elves,” who you believe come out of a tiny hole where the tile meets the tub. You told me with a tone of dreamy wonder that you hoped to get to see one.
• All of a sudden this month you are into coloring. You asked to finish a piece of work that you started at school and I had to dig the crayons out of the bottom of the art box where they were banished over Christmas. It’s like a flip switched and you are now a crayola Picasso.
• Pollen kicked up and you began to cough - the kind that we couldn’t help even with extra nebulizer treatments. So the doctor put you on two inhalers for a week this month and we seem to be back to normal.
• Your father officiated the marriage of our friends Matt and Holley Owings this month in Pawley’s Island and he did a great job. You stayed in Greenville with Gangie and Big Mitchell, but you would of been real proud of him - I was.
• You use all the shampoos in the shower to wash yourself. If we aren’t paying careful attention you use ALL. OF. THEM.
• You are hungry this month - like nothing we’ve ever seen before. You ate a whole banana in the hallway on the way to brush your teeth before bed.
• We made a trip to Macon to visit “The Big House” museum and benefit dinner, a gift from Omi and Pop to your Dad. You had your own fun too: you played with Abby Grace, a play date set-up and the two of you solved treasure maps that Omi made. (Clever Omi!) You had dinner downtown (Tom joined), played baseball with Pop, milkshakes galore and “bought” games on Omi’s phone. So when the fun came to an end that Sunday morning, you were naturally sad to leave. And when we wouldn’t let you play the ipad, you pouted. “Patrick, you are unhappy - I hear you - but we are not changing our minds: there will be no ipad right now. It would be more fun to move on and enjoy the morning, but if you must pout - do it in the next room.” And you did. You threw yourself on the couch - you are so tall now that you took up most of it. You laid dramatically head-down into the pillows for almost 40 mins of nothing. No toys, no other people - your own banishment. Eventually you did come back into the room (with a smile no less) and asked for granola. Hunger won. But oh, what a tortured life you lead sometimes - the struggle within.
• You pick out your clothes most school mornings, but the striped shorts paired with the long-sleeved striped shirt and striped socks on 4/28 has been my favorite ensemble this month.
• Your Dad’s new hummingbird guitar arrived in a box big enough for you to stretch out and fit inside, and you asked to be shipped to Oklahoma.
• “Mom, don’t wake Dad up yet - I want a lot of snuggle time with him.”

March 2016: 66 months (5 years and 6 months)

 Dear Patrick,

• This month started with the throw-ups and your stomach bug held us captive the entire day of Saturday March 5th. You hated throwing up (every 40 mins like clock-work), but you seemed to like the Pedialyte rocket popsicles we made, which was helpful. On Sunday you were back to normal and we celebrated with a hike in the fresh air outside Travelers Rest. Tandum for lunch and a game of Connect Four outside at the Swamp Rabbit Brewery made for a nice weekend after all.
• On Tuesday March 8th, I picked you up from school and you said, “I’ve got lots of love to share - its never runs out - just goes pop, pop, pop right in my heart.”
• It was Maeve Satterfield’s third birthday on Friday 3/11 and our families celebrated at Sidewall pizza and ice cream after. We rode home all together in the Satterfield van and you three laughed at the Winnie the Pooh movie playing on the monitor. I wish the trip home was 2 hours long - it was a lot of fun. We have a nice joint family photo together from that evening.
• “If you get a ticket,” you explained to me from the backseat as we drove home from school, “then you have to pay America.”
• At the “Donuts for Dad” event at school, you gave your father a survey you filled out (with your teacher) that told us that your father is 70 years old and likes to work in the yard.
• “Mom, do you want to be President one day,” you asked me. Sure I replied. “Well, you just have to believe and then you are,” you said with an easy shrug.
• After an (accurate) discussion on ages, you observed: “It’s kinda weird: you are smaller than dad but you are bigger [in age] than dad.”
• You had your first airplane flight on Thursday 3/24 as we traveled to Oklahoma to visit Uncle Jono, Aunt Jen and cousin Jack. As soon as the plane lifted into the air, you let out a huge belly laugh. You laughed so hard, the whole plane laughed with you. And when the plane landed, the pilot let you sit in his seat and push buttons on the dashboard. After that amazing experience, I found it interesting that you wanted to “work security” when you grew up. You said this so loudly that one of the TSA agents bent down as we made our way through the line to say, “aim higher, kid.”  
• We had a great time in Oklahoma: you and Jack played together and with all the other kids on the street, who ran in and out of the house like the stars of a sitcom show. There were great meals, the Easter Bunny left huge baskets, pancakes were made, candy was shared, bedtime was relaxed, and there were trips to play video games and to drink icies. You did manage, at one point, to turn on the upstairs treadmill, which sucked your shirt into the belt leaving a scar, but now you have a cool scar (and an odd story!)
• Seeing your eyes darken and tire one night in Oklahoma, I pulled you away from the fun and put you into the bathtub to make a transition towards bed. You were not happy. You could hear the others still laughing in the next room and you said with a tired scowl, “Mom, I do not love you.” And just in case those choice words didn’t communicate your utter disappointment, you declined a hug and kiss too. The next morning, the very first thing you did was climb into our bed and whisper in my ear, “you know I do love you.” Yep, I know, buddy - never doubted for a moment. 
  
  
   

February 2016: 65 months (5 years and 5 months)

Dear Patrick,

• “Mom, come in here. I want to show you something. It will amaaaaze you.”
• Apparently if you throw rocks at school on the playground (even by accident) and Ms Qua mentions it to your Uncle Bunky when he picks you up, it will NOT be “a gum kinda day.”
• You have “singing pants." Opening the multiple zippers on the khaki corduroy pants, allows each pocket to sing - and each zipper pocket makes a different sound. “This is my Base pocket...trumpet...banjo,” I heard you tell your dad. You are like a one man polka band. Sometimes a random shirt pocket might make a sound, but its those pants that really sing.
• You are all of a sudden noticeably taller this month.
• We finished reading the first Harry Potter book on Valentine’s Day and watched the first movie. You loved it! When you asked for book # 2, I drove straight to Barnes and Noble to get it even though it was raining and cold and we were fighting 5 o'clock traffic. You may not get every toy or sweet you want, but books are another story. I will go on record right now to say that you may have every book your heart desires.
• It was a grandparent sleepover on 2/14, which worked out great because your Dad and I had a lovely dinner together (with Bunky too!), and you got to be with your Biggie Valentine.
• “This spell has unicorn skin and orange juice,” you said out-loud as your finger ran down the full text pages of a book that you took off your Dad's nightstand. You sat on the bathroom floor outside the shower door and concentrated on your spells. You looked so cute in your PJs, hunched over the pages with your knees pulled in close to balance all the magic.
• I have picked you up from school maybe twice this month - Michael has gotten you every day! This means that you are on a first name basis with the waitress at the Soda Shop.
• While you are in our shower at night, you like to assemble Close Encounter-like structures out of the various soaps and shampoo bottles. The next morning, I find myself deconstructing your art to put everything back on the shelves.  
• You rock that red turtle-neck like a mini Steve Jobs.
• On Monday 2/22 we hosted a fun happy hour for Michael across the street at his house and paid the Cordell twins to watch nine children (ages 2-7) across the street at our house. “Mom, I was the only one who listened,” you reported later that evening. Poor Kylie and Griffin.
• The Howells took you to Bingo night at Summit Elementary on 2/26 and Austin sent us texts and photos of you walking right up to the stage asking the teachers how it all worked and even pulled the numbers! “No fear,” Austin said. You are gonna own that school in the Fall.
• At the end of the month, Omi and Pop came back to Greenville to hug Michael before he left for DC for his French language training. Don’t worry - you got a lot of attention too: many a chess match was played with Pop and many a “recipe” (combining different juices in the house, which only Omi has the patience to do with you!) was made.
• When your Dad picked you up from school on 2/29, your class was listening to music and you said to him, “I wish mom was here - she would of loved that song.” Your dad asked why in particular and you shrugged saying, “...well, it’s beautiful...and she would of cried.”

January 2016: 64 months (5 years and 4 months)

Dear Patrick,

• Your father asked if you were winning the game of Connect Four against the computer. “Not even a little bit,” you answered without looking up.
• On Saturday 1/9 you came into our room like a ninja and crawled into bed without ever waking us up. But then - despite all those efforts - you said loudly, “I want to get in the middle and I need a pillow.” We humored you with a grumble.  Then we heard you say, “This pillow is hot.” I turned it over (basically in my sleep) and heard you say softly, “Oh, but it’s still not cold enough...”
• We love the game Trouble that Jono & Jen gave us for Christmas and we’ve been playing it after dinner on the weeknights. You have the players, who are Star Wars characters, talk to each other as they pass on the board. Everything about you is social.
• You like to crawl into pillow cases and be carried around the house like a “sack of Patricks.”
• Overheard from the basketball jump castle at the Pavilion as you and Rivers shoot hoops: “Three points for Gryffindor!”
• On 1/15 I asked you to leave your green dinosaur in the car and not take him into school but I assured you that he would be there when I picked you up later that day. You said, “Okay, but tell Dad that you’ll pick me up. Text him. On your phone.”
• As you walk around the house, we hear you humming the theme music from Star Wars to yourself.
• You like to eat the soup that your Dad makes with kale, carrots, potatoes and chickpeas, which is great since I feel like this is finally one dish that gives you good nutrition and we can all eat together. On 1/13 while I was working late, you helped cook that soup and apparently you sounded out the word “stock.” You are beginning to read a few small words. Its very impressive.
• “In this house you can pee in the shower,” you yelled to me from the other side of the glass wall. Thank you, Patrick. It’s good to know the informal rules of your own house.  
• You love to wrestle and you challenge your Dad to wrestling matches often. With me, you call it “hug wrestling” to possibly make it more appealing? On 1/17 Sunday afternoon you asked Spence when he arrived to our house, “Do you want to jump or wrestle?” Those are the two options when you come to play at the Byrds.
• Uncle Bunky arrived Thursday 1/21 before the snow came Friday the next day. We had a long weekend of sled rides and snowball fights. Your dad took you to Summit Elementary and you sled down that huge hill with the other kids in the neighborhood. You had one big crash where another kid took your legs out from under you but you recovered.
• When Michael sent your player “home” during a game of Trouble, you said to your uncle, “Bunky, you broke my spirit.”
• Tom and Charlotte Hope arrived in Greenville on 1/29 and stayed through the weekend with Omi and Pop. Bunky was your roommate - your first real sleepover. And because Tom doesn’t sleep late, he came to get you and carry you back across the street to play that Saturday morning! Charlotte brought you these magnetic disks that create cool shapes when put all together. We had so much fun that we didn’t bathe you for four days - there just wasn’t enough time for boring stuff like that.
• You told me that at school one day you were going to say something that was not nice but then you decided “to keep the words in my mouth.”
• Noticing your Dad’s bare back one morning you asked him, “Is that a tattoo...from dance class?” I couldn’t stop laughing. And you pressed further, “...from ballet dance class?”
• We’re more than halfway through Harry Potter. I like when the three of us pile on the couch in the living room and your dad reads it out-loud before bed. One night you interrupted the reading to say, “You guys are muggles, but I’m magical.” I think so too, Patrick. Very magical.

December 2015: 63 months (5 years and 3 months old)

• Your father and I flew to New York at the beginning of the month to visit Sonny & Katie and we had such a great time. I can’t wait to bring you to NY so that you too can eat great food (soup dumplings), ride the subway, see a show, walk more than expected, learn to cross [the street] and pee when you can - not when you have to, buy street scarves and hats and turn into a rock star (like your dad does). And if you’re really lucky, you can have Uncle Sonny & Aunt Katie with you the whole time to make you laugh and share great memories.
• “Mom, look at me please,” you asked as you were telling me a story. You wanted my full attention and it made me so happy that you knew you were important enough to deserve it. Talk to me, Patrick. I’m listening with my eyes and ears.
• On Thursday 12/10, your father and I took you to have allergy tests done and you are very allergic to dog & cat hair, seasonal pollen and dust mites. So, we’ve encased your mattress, bought new pillows, relocated stuffed animals and other soft blankets to the playroom, begun washing everything weekly with very hot water and have become religious about your inhaler twice a day.
• You starred in Overbrook’s production of “The Littlest Christmas Tree” playing the littlest Christmas tree. Ginny Player told us that you had the hardest time acting sad because you are always a happy kid, laughing in rehearsal. But you nailed it at show time; brought the house down.
• Before Gangie and Biggie left for Oklahoma, we had a Christmas feast at their house and opened presents. Gangie keeps so many wonderful toys are her house for you that every day is like Christmas over there!
• We had a wiry Christmas tree this year with branches sticking out every which way, but every Christmas tree is beautiful with the lights and ornaments. And, for future reference,  in my opinion you can never have too many lights.
• Your dad and Matt Whitehead took you and Rivers out of school over lunchtime to visit with Santa. You were very excited when you got home later that day and told me all about it.  
• You still call a mirror a “mir-ra” and a satellite a “sad-light,” which I absolutely love. How are satellites and mirrors a part of our everyday conversation, you may wonder? Well, you have the biggest imagination I’ve ever seen in a child and you are always inventing things that require sad-lights. Also, your toothbrush has a suction cup on the end, which you enjoy sticking to the mir-ra after brushing in the mornings.
• We have been reading the illustrated version of Harry Potter most nights as a family before you go to bed. It’s a lot of fun for me - I don’t ever want this book to end.
• Omi and Pop stayed in the house across the street for eleven days and we had such a wonderful time all together: dinners here and there, nights out, learning how to play chess and checkers, building stairs in the backyard up the bank, arm wrestling, the skipping game (your invention), icing gingerbread men, learning french, “cookin’ in law” sing-a-longs, holiday decorating and shopping. On Monday 12/21, the street lost power and we ate by candlelight together. You did a little break-dancing as our dessert entertainment.
• You insist that there is a piece called the "electronic pawn" in the game of chess, and that it can pretty much do whatever it wants.
• Elephant went on safari while we were in NY, but Gangie found Elephant’s cousin, who you named LT (Little Truck) and he came to live with us. He’s a great new friend.  
• “I do not like crayons,” you informed everyone in the room after opening a gift from Santa at Omi and Pop’s house. The look on your face was pure agony and disgust. However, the Lego boxes made up for it.
• You asked Santa for a skateboard that you now ride around the house on your stomach.
• We drove to Shreveport Louisiana for New Year’s with the Richards (11 hours)! You loved the road trip adventure: watching downloaded movies on the iPad, jumping on the hotel beds and swimming in the indoor pool. And once we got there, you and Ginny were together for almost four days straight. We took you to see the new Star Wars movie in the theater! You both slept in the same room, played from morning till night and practiced kissing (more often than we think David liked!). Happy New Year to you! And all of us.