I remember when Little Bro learned to walk. He took two steps away from his push-car in the driveway, and nervously scrambled back to the safety of its handles. Two hours later, he was running around our kitchen chasing his older brother.

When he was a toddler, I took him to mommy and me swim classes. We practiced in the neighborhood pool and he swam comfortably in the safety of his puddle jumper until he was in preschool. One summer, we went to the pool and I was ready to put on his floats when he said “I don’t need that anymore. I can swim now.” I stood near him in the water while he swam on the stairs and soon he was swimming the length of the pool independently.

When he was four years old, he got a bike with training wheels. At five, we encouraged him to try learning to ride his bike without them, and each time I offered to remove his training wheels he said he wasn’t ready. Until one night, after bedtime, wearing a Stormtrooper costume, he told us he wanted them off. He giggled as he took off down the sidewalk, and he’s been riding around ever since.

Little Bro takes in everything. He waits until he can execute a new skill perfectly. And he does so on his own terms.

So why did I think reading would be any different?

I started teaching him when he was in preschool and he picked it up so quickly I was shocked. Even sight words and compound words came easily to him, but there was one catch- he didn’t want to do it. When Big Bro was that age, he’d persevere through beginner books and earn a sticker upon completion. He’d read them again and again. Little Bro had to be coaxed into one book at a time. He breezed through and never picked it back up. When he started kindergarten, he only brought home picture books from the library.

“You can ask the librarian to show you some more challenging books,” I said. He’d shrug and reassure me that he liked the pictures.

Kindergarten reading homework turned into arguments and stalling tactics and frustration. I knew he could do it. He just didn’t want to. I almost came to terms with having one reader, and one child who preferred anything else.

Then came a trip to the used bookstore in Tucson with his older cousins. As we browsed the kids section, he laid his eyes on the Captain Underpants series. Full of potty humor and wacky illustrations, it was just the right combination to spark his interest and he asked for not one- but two of the books to take home. He finished them both within the next 48 hours.

It wasn’t that he disliked reading. He just hadn’t found the right book.

Just when I think I’ve reached most of the parenting milestones, another one hits me like a ton of bricks.

For nearly nine years, we’ve been lucky enough to live next door to an amazing family. Big Bro was just about two when we met, and their daughters were just a bit older. We’d go to the neighborhood park, hang out on the front lawn, and invite each other over for birthdays. Before we knew it, theirs was a family of six and ours of four. Her son and Little Bro are just months apart. All of the kids play together almost every day, riding bikes, selling lemonade, pretending school, and most recently building worlds of their own in Minecraft. Their daughter was Big Bro’s first friend. She’s one of his best friends.

And two weeks ago, they moved.

They say having a child is like having your heart on the outside of your body. I watched Big Bro help his friends pack their things. I watched as his heart- my heart- broke. It’s the first time he’s experienced such a big change in a friendship like this. They won’t be knocking on the door shortly after getting home from school. Five kids won’t be sauntering through my kitchen for granola bars or darting in to get more toys to take outside. While I’m bummed about it too, nothing compared to the gut-punch of seeing my son feel that pain. I held him while he cried. I let him be sad. I handed him a pencil and paper.

As parents, we’d love for our kids to feel nothing but happiness, but that’s just not the case. I can’t put a band-aid on it and make it all better.

Thankfully, our neighbors are moving a mere three miles away. While it won’t be the same, we’ll still find a way to play.

Right after the holiday season, I find myself taking inventory of the clothes and toys we no longer need and cleaning house to make way for whatever new trends capture the attention of these two energetic, curious boys. As I stood in our playroom, looking at a 2-foot-tall plastic Paw Patrol tower and thinking of all the space it would free up in our closet, I realized we’d probably seen the last of Chase, Marshall, Sky and their adventures. Now it’s all dragons, Minecraft and Jedi.

We celebrated both of their birthdays with more than 20 other children from their kindergarten and third grade classes, all armed with inflatable lightsabers running around our Regional Park. It was loud, it was chaos. It was a blast. They hardly needed our intervention, just the occasional bottle of Gatorade or slice of pizza between sprints to and from the jungle gym with their friends. Still wrapped in their imagination, but capable of articulating and elaborating their own world with one another, their ages are so fun.

We sang them into years nine and six, which I’m sure will bring unique challenges just like every other phase, but with it also comes the joy of watching them develop stronger friendships, hone their talents, and learn every day. They opened their gifts of Pokemon, Star Wars and Minecraft-themed toys. Not a member of the Paw Patrol in sight. Though the tower still sits in our playroom closet just in case the neighbor visits. We’ll free up the space eventually.

At age nine, Big B loves to cook, play with friends, ride his bike, play guitar and basketball, and read. He dislikes going to bed and turning off video games.

At age six, Little B loves desserts, playing with friends, building legos, arts and crafts, drawing, and soccer. He dislikes going to bed and homework.

With the holidays behind us, parents often face an influx of toys this time of year as they find space for new arrivals and new homes for whatever’s been outgrown. Over the years, we’ve found there are some types of toys we love to have around. Not only do these toys entertain for hours, but they enhance learning and discovery as well. Here are my top five learning toys you may want to keep out of the donation bin while spring cleaning:

Building Toys:

Our number one is of course Legos, but we also love tinker toys, megablocks, and kits like marble mazes or just classic blocks! If you rotate, these are easy to store and change out to keep your child’s interest year-round.

Science Toys:

Any kit designed by National Geographic. We’ve done rock tumbling, crystal growing, fossil digging, and more. We also love Insect Lore for real-life biology lessons detailed in this previous post.

Tech Toys:

Code-a-Mouse and Snap Circuits have been our favorite toys when it comes to learning the basics of computer science in a fun way. Our five-year-old is starting to get really good at coding the mouse to go through mazes he creates!

Pretend Play Toys:

Even as the boys are getting older, pretend play is still one of their favorite past-times. Now, they usually include star wars costumes and lightsabers, but they still utilize some of our basics when roaming the yard or the neighborhood on a mission. This includes binoculars or magnifying glasses, construction tools like shovels or small hammers, or medical supplies like stethoscopes or “bandages” for injured stuffed animals.

Creative Toys

Play dough, kinetic sand, and now modeling clay are popular activities that can keep the boys independently busy for hours. We also keep art supply bins of markers, crayons, pipe cleaners, pom-poms and other supplies that allow for endless possibilities. Perler beads are the most recent favorite, but I’d recommend getting the bead sweeper to help with clean-up.

One of my favorite memories from my childhood was driving around our neighborhood streets, looking at all of the Christmas lights. It was well before the the days of the Light Fight shows and the musically-timed flashing bulbs. One street went all out, and it was always a treat to see our favorite homes lit up each year with familiar decorations.

Since the boys were toddlers, we’ve done a tour of our own neighborhood. I’d bundle them up and pull their wagon around the block as they sang songs and pointed out their favorite houses. This year, we’ve “leveled up” in many ways. Big B helped set up our Christmas tree, lifting and positioning it into place. I was even able to bring out the breakable ornaments again and trust Little b to hang them himself. They’re both too big for the wagon now, which has been gathering dust in our garage.

Our neighborhood light tour leveled up too. Instead of our leisurely wagon stroll, we donned glowing accessories, grabbed the neighborhood friends and went on a 1-mile bike ride light tour!

There are moments I miss the bundled toddlers snuggled in a wagon, or the quiet awe of their faces lit with holiday glow for the first time. But when I saw my five-year-old pedal his fastest with a smile on his face, or heard the giggles and chatter of my eight-year-old and his friends as they stopped to “judge” every house, I didn’t miss the wagon at all. It was heavy anyway.

Our new neighborhood light tour suits me just fine.

When it comes to Legos, the boys have become masters, just like their current favorite show. They can spend hours in the playroom, digging through bins for pieces, creating spaceships, droids, houses, characters, scenes, elaborate storylines and anything else they imagine. I love it. I embraced their love of Legos, springing for new sets and even decorating the playroom with Lego Movie posters and brick decals.

But it’s not all love. Any parent can tell you the indescribable pain that is stepping on a Lego. Or the absolute futility of keeping pieces organized, sets together, or finding the one piece you need when you need it. Lego bricks spill in the hundreds off the designated “Lego Table” I created on the backside of their train table, onto the floor and under the couch and into the hallway. I routinely find lego mini figures in the laundry or in the cupholders of our car.

As for springing for those sets, we now own 54. How do I know? Because in the endless debate over the best way to store pieces and instructions, I decided to digitize all of the instructions in a shared spreadsheet they can use whenever they want. It may be the most type-A thing I’ve ever done. It took weeks. It was eye-opening to discover how many Legos we actually own. So. Many. Legos. And do I have an unopened Lego advent calendar in the closet waiting for December 1st? Of course I do.

Last night, the boys rushed into our room with their most recent Lego creations, bursting with excitement over the fleet they engineered, each ship with moving parts and seats for pilots. All of the tediousness melts away as they chatter about their designs, revealing the value of this unique and timeless toy. A house full of Lego is a house full of joy. Until the day is done, they’re fast asleep, the house dim and quiet… and I step on another lego.

Big B and little b have logged thousands of miles on planes, trains and automobiles. Their first cross-country trip was at just three months old. With half our family living on the east coast, we’ve got travel down to a routine, and our boys have become the best travel buddies.

Over the years, we’ve had every traveling snafu imaginable, from delays to lost luggage to missed connections. Here’s what we’ve learned works for our family to make travel as smooth as possible:

1. Sleep on the Plane: Because a cross-country trip takes about five hours of flying and a three-hour time zone change, we’ve learned to let the boys stay up until the red eye. They usually fall asleep right after takeoff and wake up during landing, with enough excitement and activity planned to fuel them through day one and make for an easier time zone adjustment. Noise canceling headphones made this easier as infants. Now, they can conk out anywhere!
2. Pack Snacks: When it comes to traveling with kids, tummies don’t change time zones and sometimes meals on-the-go can be a challenge. We don’t leave the house without a backpack full of their favorite protein bars and their water bottles. It stops those hangry meltdowns before they start.
3. Activity Books: Whether it’s waiting at an airport terminal or for a table at a restaurant, activity books and magazines come in handy for those in-between moments when kids get the wiggles. A few word searches, mazes or coloring pages can become a welcome distraction and hold them over during down time.
4. Travel Light: I’ll never forget the first time we flew across the country with our then three-month-old baby, Big B. Drew and I pulled up to the airport with a carseat, stroller, pack-n-play, luggage, diaper bag, and camera bag. That was the first and last time we traveled with so much stuff! Most hotels provide pack-n-plays or cribs, we swapped the hefty stroller for an umbrella stroller and ergo baby carrier, and we rented a car seat with a car or had relatives pick one up at consignment. Nowadays, we bring nothing but backpacks, carry-ons and mi-folds for the boys in the event of a taxi ride. Less luggage means less luggage lost!
5. Plan for Their Pace: Vacations are supposed to be fun for the whole family. When we explore a museum, hike, or tour a destination, I make sure there are parts of the day where the kids take the lead at their own pace. If they want to stand and watch fish in one exhibit for 20 minutes, we let them. They’re learning and taking it all in. We also include them in the navigation process, having them read airport signs and lead us to the gate or find the proper subway route. Giving them the opportunity to do some of the “steering” often leads to the unexpected little moments that make the trip even more memorable.

We just returned from an epic Fall Break trip to DC and NYC. We loved spending time with family in both places, sightseeing, and exploring. We can’t wait for the next opportunity to take the best travel buddies on another adventure.

For the last five years, minus a few months of shutdown and virtual learning, we have been parents to a Montessori preschooler. But this school year, Little b started kindergarten and both boys started at our neighborhood school. Like any big transition, we’ve had ups and downs and regressions and a few tears, but seeing their love of learning and new friendships grow has brought me so much joy.

In third grade, Big B is building bridges, writing 5-paragraph essays, trading Pokemon cards, playing basketball on the playground and in an after-school league, and bringing home more sass and knowledge of the inner workings of Minecraft than I’d ever imagined. Third grade in all its glory has reminded me that his independent streak will only grow. His friends will become increasingly more important and influential. And each time he asks for hugs at bedtime or before the school day, I will take them and lean in as long as he’ll let me.

In kindergarten, Little b is making hats. He brings home a hat almost every single day. I’m starting to wonder what the endgame is here with all these hats. First, the hats made sense. A “First Day of School” hat, a rainbow hat during color week, etc. Now he’s bringing home hats with blueberry waffles, a disco ball? What’s important (and amazing to me) is that every single hat is meticulously colored inside the lines, stapled with care and exhibits a level of focus and effort I honestly only think I’d have in me for about three hats. Every single hat is worn with pride and I can tell he spent whatever amount of time they spend on hat-making in kindergarten to its fullest extent and enjoyed every minute. He’s also reading, using new vocabulary words, and asking questions about everything. His enthusiasm for learning is contagious, and I can’t wait to see the next hat he brings home, even if it’s pancakes.

When it comes to education, I believe the most important priority is loving to learn. If someone loves to learn, they’ll never stop. The rest will fall into place. So far, in third grade and kindergarten, I think we’re off to a good start.

It was about 7:30 Sunday night when six children, ages three to twelve, walked single-file into my living room with serious expressions on their faces. “Mom, we have something to tell you,” my eight-year-old said, surrounded by his brother and four neighbors. “We found a baby bird.”

The twelve-year-old neighbor slowly opened her cupped hands to reveal a tiny chick.

They’d found it in the road next to a storm drain. At first, we thought it was a baby chicken that escaped from the neighbor across the street, who has a coop in her backyard. A phonecall and some Googling later, and we confirmed it was actually a baby quail. A quail couple had recently started nesting in the neighborhood, visiting our backyard most mornings, but I couldn’t figure out where they’d settled. We decided to release it back into the grass close to where they’d found it, so the parents could come back.

After reading a little about abandoned quails, I decided to check on the little guy after dark. I’m glad I did. I could hear it peeping as loud as it could for help, and found it tangled in some grass, covered in fire ants. No mom or dad quail to be found. I took it in, lined a bin with a heated blanket, and big bro offered his stuffed Chewbaca for comfort. The quail slept under Chewbaca all night. We named it Porg.

The next day, we doted over Porg and I called local wildlife rescues. I set up a new heat lamp and bedding for its habitat, but I knew it was only temporary. Its best chance at survival would be with other quails. Unfortunately, Little Bro didn’t see it the same way.

I held him while he cried, and tried to explain that Porg deserved to be free to live in the wild with other quails and a family of his own. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for something you love is to let it go. It’s a hard lesson for a five-year-old to learn.

The next morning, Porg was a little wobblier on his feet and I knew we were doing the right thing. The boys said goodbye before they left for school, and Porg was placed with fellow rescue quails.

Even Little Bro was in a lighter mood knowing Porg would get the care it needed. I may have also agreed to go to the pet store this weekend. He mentioned we already have the heat lamp and supplies for a bearded dragon.

Yesterday, I took the boys with me on a run to Costco. We needed school supplies, which now include mass amounts of disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer. We needed snacks and groceries, and I wanted to check out what was left of their seasonal stock for the summer. Now at 8 and 5, Little Bro sits in the cart while Big Bro insists on “helping me push.” School supply lists in hand, I turned over the reigns of the cart with my standard rule- you hit anyone or anything, I revoke your license.

A crowded warehouse store and a hefty cart that barely rests under eye-level isn’t the perfect environment for driving practice, so after about 10 minutes of “come on,” “slow down,” and “watch out,” Big Bro hit an aisle of canned food and I took over. Commence whining. As Big Bro pleaded with me for his right to steer the cart while interrupting himself to yell for samples at the end of each aisle, his younger brother decided it would be a great time for a “game” he invented to which I’m still a bit fuzzy on the rules other than it resulted in him saying “you look like poo” loud enough for passersby to hear. This immediately cured Big Bro of his grief over the cart and sent him into laughing fits which caused the poo comments to get louder and louder.

I started to regret taking this time to go to the store. I could’ve gone the next day and left them home with dad. I tried to calm down their hysteric laughter and keep them yelling “poo” and from bouncing around the aisles, grabbing boxes of sugary snacks and trying to toss them in the cart. Finally, I threatened to cancel our afternoon plans. That kept them straight until checkout.

Then, while waiting in line, an older woman approached me. I felt a quick jolt of nervousness as I wondered if she’d seen their rowdy disruptive behavior. She leaned over and said, “I just want to compliment you on these two young men.”

Young men? It’s a phrase I’d never heard before with reference to my sons. Compliment? Also unexpected given that the majority of this trip I felt like I was trying to keep them from tearing apart the store.

“Your son dropped his paper and said thank you very nicely when I picked it up. You don’t hear that very often from kids his age anymore.”

I thanked her and told her how much I needed that today, holding back tears. I laughed it off, saying I felt like I’d been herding cats and just hoped I got what we needed. She smiled.

I could tell she’d been in my shoes before. I could tell she’d walked the aisles of a grocery store, herding rowdy children while desperately trying to remember what was on her list. I could see in her eyes that she understood how a simple errand could turn into dozens of questions and answers, moments of extreme multitasking. And I could tell when she walked away and looked back at my boys, that she missed it.

Employees gave the boys stickers on the way out and they happily bounced to the car. We continued our afternoon plans. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t leave them home with dad. I know someday I’ll miss it too.