We were getting ready to run an errand in the car.

A:  Okay, sweetie.

M:  Okay, honey.

A:  Oh, Miles, you’re cute.

M:  Oh, Mommy, you’re cute.

M:  Do you hear that noise?

A:  (straining to hear)  What noise?

M:  That yellow-sounding noise.

M:  Trapezoids?  Why do they not trap you even if they’re called trapezoids?

My dear little Tobin,

This month you’ve shown strong evidence that you are beginning to understand language.  We’ve seen signs of it before, but it was hard to tell whether you were responding specifically to words or to gestures that went with them.  Well, in the last week or so, you’ve been doing something heart-meltingly adorable.  If you’re in your bouncy seat or Exersaucer or lying in bed, and I say “Do you want to come see Mommy?”, you smile, wiggle, and sometimes even squeal.  This happens even if I don’t stretch my arms out to you or use any particular intonation, so I’m pretty sure you understand and are connecting the words to being picked up and cuddled.

You’ve gotten kind of Mommy-centric lately.  Not most of the time, but sometimes (especially during your usual evening crabby time) you cry if your dad is holding you instead of me.  This can be very tiring.  By evening I usually need a break, and I really appreciate your dad’s efforts to give me some time to myself, but it doesn’t always work.  Part of me is a little thrilled, though.  A mom has to give a lot of herself, and in some ways it’s rewarding to know that my efforts aren’t going unnoticed.  It’s nice to see that you’re growing fond of me.  I’ve been fond of you since before you could turn your own head.

Nothing has changed in your fondness levels for your brother.  You always want to be where he is, and you’ve started grabbing for his face and hair.  He’s very patient with you, and lately we’ve spent a lot of our time together in the afternoons all cuddled up in his bed, reading or telling stories.

You mastered and then promptly lost interest in rolling over.  Now when I put you on your tummy you just want to try to crawl.  There was a period there when you’d immediately flip over onto your back, but once you realized that with just a little support on your feet you could move forward, that became your favorite.  You didn’t roll for at least a week, and I thought you’d forgotten how.  But yesterday you proved that you can still do it.  You just prefer not to.  You haven’t mastered crawling yet, not by a long shot, but you grunt and strain and scootch forward the best you can.  Something tells me you’re going to be hard to keep up with once you become mobile.

This is your last month of being 100% breastfed, as we plan to start you on limited solids next month.  It shouldn’t be too difficult, since you already love to grab anything in your reach and shove it into your mouth.  I didn’t realize how much we’d been chiding you about it until I heard your brother say yesterday, “I don’t know how clean that is, Tobin.”  I bet you’ll get a kick out of having something actually digestible in your mouth.  It is one of the first truly tangible steps toward independence, though, and naturally it tugs at me a little (or maybe the tug is just moving from literal to figurative).  It will also mean grosser diapers, but that’s all part of the process, I guess.

Your sunny disposition remains sunny, and you’re so easygoing and pleasant.  The only thing you really don’t like is to be left out of the action, which means that we eat most of our meals one-handed with you on a lap.  Sometimes you’re okay with sitting in your bouncy seat, but not usually for long.  As soon as you’re up there with the rest of us, all is well.  That’s yet another reason I think you’re going to like being an official part of the family dinnertime experience.  You still sleep pretty well—not straight through the night, but you go back to sleep quickly after nursing a bit, and you spend most of 8 p.m. through 7 a.m. asleep.

There are a lot of pregnancies and new babies in our sphere lately, and while I am thrilled for those families, I must say I’m glad I have a 5-month-old.  Newborns are great, but it’s even nicer to be past that exhausting early time and into the really fun time.  Your smiles and giggles and growing awareness add happiness to every day.  Even these bleak winter days are brighter with you around.

I love you, my little meatball.

Mommy

Miles was preparing a clementine to have for a snack.  He got a little frustrated.

M:  The trouble is the peeling will never end.

I’ve posted this elsewhere, but for my own personal records, here it is again:

I was featured as a caller-inner on A Way with Words, and this is a link to the podcast.

I’ve also perma-grabbed the mp3 in case they go out of business or something.

I was opening a package I’d gotten from UPS.

A:  I’ll try on this dress I ordered and you can tell me if I look pretty or not.

M:  What color is it?

A:  Black.

M:  Light black or dark black?

A:  Um…dark black.

M:  I guess it won’t be pretty then.

I tried it on, and he stuck to his guns.  I’m hoping he likes it better once I’ve ironed it and added some accessories.

My little Miles,

Are you really still little?  Can I call a four-year-old little?  You still have a little butt, that’s for sure.  Your size 3T jeans are getting high-watery around the ankles, but you still rely on the tightening power of the adjustable waist to keep them from falling down.  You still have a little boy nature in some ways:  you like lots of cuddles when you’re sleepy, you have a hard time regulating your moods, and you eat the same four things over and over (for the record:  pasta, hot dogs, rice, and pancakes/waffles).  But you’re making progress in so many ways, too.  You are excited about your growing independence, which has manifested itself in improved bathroom skills, getting your own water from the fridge, getting yourself dressed, and of course your progress at school.

This year, you had your first birthday party with friends.  Several of your school friends and Lucy from across the street came to your party, where you painted ceramic magnets, ate cake and snacks, and ran around like crazy people.  The video I shot of you and your friends hugging each other is some of the most heartwarming I’ve ever seen, especially when I think about how shy you were when you started at Willowwind.  You still have a somewhat shy personality, particularly in new situations or around strangers, but the huge smile on your face as Opal and Tessa hug-attacked you is proof that you are growing.

Oh, how you’ve grown.  A year ago, you were still in diapers, still climbing into our bed at night, still scared of the slide at the playground.  A year ago, you were an only child.  I’m so proud to say that you’ve made that transition beautifully.  You’re not always patient or well-behaved with your dad and me, but you are always kind and gentle with Tobin.  He is lucky to have you for a brother, and he adores you.  You were the first person to elicit huge belly-laughs from him, and if you’re in a room, that’s where he’s looking.

You were crazy-excited for Christmas this year, and reliving that kind of joy through you is reason enough to have children.  You helped me with lots of baking projects, including the ever-important task of making and setting out cookies for Santa.  You picked out a special present for your brother, and you were sure to test it thoroughly for him.  That’s pretty much what happens with all his presents, which is okay for the time being, but eventually he’s going to want to have first crack at his own stuff.

Photo by Gary Clarke

We have lots of fun in our afternoons together, and you especially enjoy doing art projects.  That’s been a lifesaver this winter.  It’s been really very mild, but it’s still a lot of work to haul the baby out to the playground, and I can’t play with you as well as I’d like to with him in tow.  Luckily, we still manage to have a lot of fun together around the house.  We’re at a point where we need to decide whether you’re going to keep going to school half days or whether you’ll switch to full days.  I admit I hope you stick with half days.  Due to a change in the Willowwind preschool setup, that will mean moving to a different classroom, but I think you can handle it.  You still seem awfully little to go to school all day.  I didn’t do that until I was a first-grader.  Besides, I’d miss you.

It’s not easy for me to let go of you.  I’m not planning on doing it in any serious way for quite some time (and maybe not even then.  You know about the excellent university just across town, right?).  The night your brother was born was the first night in your whole life that I spent away from you, and I was more scared about that than I was of giving birth (and let me tell you, giving birth is no picnic).  You did fine, though.  As far as major challenges go, getting a sibling has been the one you’ve handled the best.

You still make me laugh out loud every day with the things you say and do (for example, just now you looked up from the game you’re playing on pbskids.org and yelled, “NUTS!  Hacker wins.”).  Sometimes you make me turn around and take a deep breath to keep from roaring like a lion, but that’s not most of the time.  You have soft hair and sweet cheeks, and you still let me stroke them.  I love the special things we do, just the two of us, like our trips to HyVee and reading stories at bedtime.  I can hardly believe it’s been a whole four years since you joined our family—really, made us a family.  Seeing what a good father your dad is makes me love him more than I did when I married him.  As Skittergramps noted, after witnessing your dad handle you during a spate of bad behavior, he’s always patient with you and never loses his temper.  Who knew tantrums were good for something?

Photo by Gary Clarke

Four years of Miles.  Miles and miles and miles and miles of Miles.  Smiles of Miles, tears of Miles, witty rejoinders of Miles, scrapes and bonks and dinosaurs and Play-Doh and backpacks and cameras and winter coats of Miles.  The tough moments will fade, and the person you are becoming grows more apparent every day.  As I say when you’re cuddled on my lap, mostly in jest, “My Miles, only for me.  I don’t even have to share you.”  I want to trap you in time and keep your long eyelashes and tiny, perfect teeth all for myself.  I don’t want to share you.

But I will, because the world needs you.

Love,

Mommy

M:  Hey Mommy?

A:  Yes, honey?

M:  Remember when you couldn’t find my red shoes, and I guessed that maybe the angels were wearing them?

Note:  this is in no way macabre.  I’ve just been playing Elvis Costello for him is all.

Miles has been doing a lot of photography lately, and we were putting prints into his photo album.

A:  I like this picture of Tobin, Miles.  It has good focus.  It’s really sharp.

M:  Yeah, some pictures are furry and soft.

Typically, we just put the computer in sleep mode, but last night Denny shut it down entirely.  When Miles tried to use it today, it didn’t respond how he expected.

M:  When I push a button, it doesn’t fall awake!

Oh, my Tobin, you are so sweet.

That’s the word that always comes to mind when I think about how to describe you:  you’re just plain sweet.  You’re many other things, too:  calm, good-natured, gluttonous, a pretty good sleeper, squishy, grabby, curious, and enamored of your brother.  The only times you get upset are when you have to be in the carseat for a long time and sometimes for a cranky few minutes at night.  Mostly, you are a delight.

I was just telling Mubby that there should always be a baby around, especially one as fun as you.  I’ve really been enjoying you lately.  Maybe it’s because, having been through this time with your brother, I know how fast it goes.  Maybe it’s because you’re just such a nice guy.

You’re getting close to rolling over.  You’re learning to grab toys and blankets and other objects.  You are determined to shove your entire fist into your mouth.  You spend more time in your bouncy seat than you’d probably like, because your brother and I are often busy doing some kind of art or cooking project, but you’re usually patient as long as you can watch what we’re doing.  I think you’ve been in a growth spurt lately, because you’ve been eating a lot and your sleep hasn’t been quite as good as usual (though you’re still pretty good at it).

This month, you got to enjoy your first Thanksgiving.  You didn’t do much, really, but your Uncle Tyler really enjoyed meeting you.  You also got to spend time with more family, including Mubby and Skittergramps, Nana and Papa, and Uncle Michael.  This time of year can be a little overwhelming for a baby, but you’re mostly handling it well.  You’re used to getting hauled around, and the kids at Miles’s preschool love to see you when we come to pick your brother up.  Miles is proud to show you off, too.  He likes to lean over your carseat and say, “Aw, he’s such a cute little fellow.”  It’s true, you are.  You have such a joyful smile, and your little button nose and bow-shaped lips and soft, squishy little cheeks are so sweet.  You’re in that pre-crawling chubby baby stage, and your dimpled little knees are so much fun to kiss.

Photo by Gary Clarke

At diaper change time, you like it when I wiggle your legs fast and say, “Doesn’t it feel good to be freeeee?”  You laugh when we kiss your neck and tickle your sides.  You still enjoy baths in your tummy tub, maybe because when you suck on your hands in the bathtub, they have a slightly different flavor.

You’re also getting to that distractable stage, which can be a challenge while you’re eating.  If we’re in a noisy room or you catch a glimpse of your brother, you’re likely to turn your head fast to figure out what’s going on.  That can leave a dribbly mess of milk.  Sometimes I don’t even know what triggers it.  You’ll just abruptly stop nursing and look up and smile at me.

Your smiles are really amazing.  They take over your whole face, and it’s impossible not to smile back.  I was telling your Skittergramps, it’s not even a challenge to take a smiling picture of you, because it’s practically your default facial expression.   People often comment on how serious-looking you are, though, which puzzles me because I see so many sweet sunshine smiles.  I think it’s because you like to furrow your brow.  When you’re not smiling, you do look very deep in thought.

You’re almost ready to roll over.  You’ve sort of done it, but I think that was more coincidental than purposeful.  It won’t be long, though, before you’re flipping like a little pancake.  Now that you’re getting more interested in toys, we’ll probably be able to place one just out of your reach, which you can then stretch and maybe roll in order to get.  Maybe next month’s update will include video footage of you rolling.

Happy four months to you, my little sugar booger.  I’m awfully glad you’re the baby we have around these days.

Love,

Mommy

We were being silly at the dinner table.

M:  I love Daddy this much (holding his hands about two inches apart).

D:  Well, I love Miles this much (holding his arms wide apart).

M:  I love Mommy this much (holding his hands about two inches apart again).

A:  How much do you love Mubby?

M:  This much (two inches again).

A:  How much do you love Tobin?

M:  This much (about six inches).  Actually I love Mommy this much (about twelve inches).

A:  Oh, that’s nice!

M:  (bursting into tears)  No!  I don’t love Mommy!

A:  Do you need a little love?

Still sobbing, Miles nodded, climbed into my lap, and received a thorough snuggling.  That showed me.

My dear Miles,

Who knew you’d be a role model?

There’s someone in our house (hint:  it’s Tobin) who watches everything you do.  He looks around when he hears your voice.  He smiles when he sees you.  His eyes follow you where ever you go.  You’re a pretty interesting guy.

You remain an excellent big brother.  The other day, Tobin was in his swing, crying, and I didn’t get to him as quickly as I should have.  I heard you say, “What’s the matter, little guy?” in a very concerned voice.  You often comment on how cute Tobin is, but you are quite sure that he should stay little instead of growing up.  That’s how I feel about both of you.

Of course, it would be good if you grew up enough to understand that your outside time at school would be more fun if you wore heavy-duty gloves and snow-pants.  Today when I picked you up you were sad, and the chin area of your hooded coat was covered in a cold, slimy, snotty mess.  You said you were sad because your hands got cold, which led us into a conversation about wearing your heavier gloves instead of the light fleece mittens you prefer.  Even in the face of compelling evidence, you still didn’t seem very inclined to wear your gloves.  We’ll see if you can remember that come Monday.

One of the most exciting things you’ve picked up lately is photography.  Your dad got out his old digital Rebel.  He doesn’t use it anymore, though it’s arguably still a lot of camera for a three-year-old.  You do a really good job with it.  Your dad and Skittergramps have both taken you on photo walks, and I’ve led several photo expeditions around the house.  We got some of your best work printed, and you were so excited and proud to fill up your new photo album.  There are still some empty slots, though, so I’m glad you still seem interested in taking pictures.

We spent some time at Mubby and Skittergramps’s house in November when your dad went to San Francisco for a conference.  That was a lot of fun, a highlight of which was a trip you took with Mubby.  You went downtown to a special Christmas event, and you came back with some fancy Batman-style face paint.  That was on Saturday, and you didn’t want to wash it off that night or the next day.  In fact, you insisted on keeping it on until Monday, so you could show your friends at school.  By that time, it had worn off enough that it was pretty much just a big blue unibrow.  The Monday night bath did not go smoothly, but it ended with your face clean.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and as usual we had a lot of fun.  You enjoyed seeing Nana and Papa as well as assorted other relatives on your dad’s side.  A highlight of the Beary Thanksgiving this year for you was playing Slapjack.  Aunt Jackie taught you how to play and gave you a couple of decks of cards.  You haven’t quite mastered the subtleties of it yet, but you can slap a jack with great enthusiasm.  Now we just need to get you to put your card down so your opponent can see it.  Your current strategy involves spending five or six seconds looking at the card before putting it down.  You do know the difference between clubs and spades, though, which I don’t think I figured out until I was about twelve.  Another big hit at Thanksgiving was seeing Uncle Tyler.  He never sticks around long, but he loves playing with you and your brother.  We’ve been reading stories every night out of the Curious George collection he gave you.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Your true love is playing computer games, but I try not to let you waste your youth entirely on them.  We’ve also had a lot of fun lately doing creative projects, like arranging paper scraps between sheets of waxed paper and fusing them together with the iron, and making mixed-media projects with various household items and a lot of Elmer’s glue.  A trip to JoAnn Fabrics is one of your favorite outings.  You still like to cook with me, and you’re especially excited to make cookies for Santa.  We were talking about the kind of cookies you might like to make, and you decided on Christmas trees and snowmen.  I told you I wasn’t sure we had a snowman cookie cutter, so we’d have to find one at the store.  You told me, “But we do have a rolling pin, so that’s good.”

For the first time, you have specific gifts you’ve requested from Santa.  Fortunately, Santa shops on Amazon.com, so it’s easy to verify ahead of time exactly which one you want.  This is also the first year you’re going to have a birthday party with friends, so we’ve been talking about plans for that.  That’s less than a month away.

There’s a big difference between three and four, isn’t there?  Three still seems like a toddler, and four is definitely a school-aged kid.  A year ago, I swore you were never going to be potty-trained, and we’d have to home-school you until you were 18 because you’d never pass the potty skills requirements at Willowwind.  But what a change you’ve made.  I’ll reflect on that more next month when you’re truly four.  For the time being, you’re still my little three-year-old.  You still want me to cuddle you at night, and you still run to my arms and ask for “a little love” whenever you’re scared or sad or hurt.  You still think the noodles I boil are the best thing ever (“The secret ingredient is salt!”), and you’re even pretty good about getting your teeth brushed and your accumulated boogers cleaned.

You are my special puppy, my little Scoop.  Let’s really rock this last month of three, okay?  We’ll make sure there are some cookies involved.

Love,

Mommy

In my imaginary world in which I throw glamorous holiday parties, I will serve this:

Rosemary Gin Fizz

In this same imaginary world, I always have a fully-stocked bar and herb garden.  You know, come to think of it, it would be pretty cool if I could put things like that on my wishlists.  I would need lots of different flavors of schnapps and brandy, your basics like vodka and gin and whiskey, and nice mixers like infused syrups, sodas, and fruit juices.  I always see commercials about giving fancy liquor as gifts (lately I’ve been seeing something about an engraved bottle.  What?), but it seems like it would be weird to actually receive such a thing at a family gathering.

Plus we barely drink, and when we do, it’s likely a bottle of wine (which we do happily get and give as gifts sometimes).

This is why it’s a fantasy, people.

On our way out to dinner, we passed a huge evergreen tree covered in lights.  Miles enjoyed looking at it, so on our way home, I pointed it out again.

A:  Miles, there’s that Christmas tree again, this time out your window.

M:  Did somebody move it?

Miles was having a bowel movement.

M:  Some pee came out too.

A:  Yeah, usually some squeezes out, doesn’t it?

M:  Yeah.  It wants to be free.

Dear Tobin,

You have a lot of nicknames.  There are the obvious ones, like Toby and Tobester (Miles’s favorite).  Your daddy calls you Bubs, and I call you Meatball, and Skittergramps calls you Tobinio.  The one that I’ve been finding myself calling you the most lately, though, is Sunshine-Face.  You are just such a smiler.  You smile when you wake up in the morning, you smile when Skittergramps holds you up to play Superbaby, you even smile when you get your diaper changed.  You have such a sweet disposition, and you’re so easy-going.  You sleep well, you eat well, and you love to watch your big brother do whatever he’s doing.  There’s really just one thing you do that’s outrageous, which I’ll get to in a moment.

We’re looking forward to you getting to meet your Uncle Tyler this weekend, but since I’m a couple of days late on the Tobin Times already, I’ll save the details of that for next month.  One thing I can say with confidence:  you look like him and you poop like him.  When Uncle Tyler was a baby, he made his own family legend by

[Aside:  you are sitting on my lap right now, and you just pooped.  Seriously, you pooped while I was in the middle of writing a paragraph about your poop and your pooping role model's poop. ]

pooping up his back in the finest restaurants of San Francisco.  I don’t know how you manage to do it, but you share that talent.  It’s outrageous.  Do you have some little funnel you keep back there to direct the spray straight up?  Fortunately, I’m pretty sure Uncle Tyler developed into an individual with normal poop trajectory, so I have hope that the same can happen for you.  Maybe you guys can compare this weekend.

You had your first Halloween this month, which of course wasn’t very interesting for you.  The rest of us got a kick out of it, though.  You wore your brother’s old lobster costume for one event, then later you wore a new dinosaur costume (really just jammies with a dinosaur-looking hood).  As usual, you were a good sport as we hauled you all around the neighborhood.  People thought you were very cute.  I agreed.

One cool trick you’ve learned is “Sooooo big.”  It’s probably a combination of physical and verbal cues, but when we hold your hands and say, “How big is Tobin?”, you do a little sit-up and straighten your legs as we help you into a standing position.  You love to do that, but I think it’s hard work for you, because you never smile while you’re doing it.  And yet, every time we prompt you, you go straight into it.  Sometimes you do it when we’re not ready.  You’re very strong.  We have to keep a tight grasp on you to keep you from tossing yourself hither and yon.

It’s hard to say yet whether those tendencies will continue throughout your life, but it seems quite possible that you’ll be a daring and enthusiastic little guy.  Second kids always like to do what their big siblings are doing,  so we’re probably going to have to ramp up our vigilance to make sure you don’t get in over your head at the playground.  It could have positives, too.  Maybe you’ll want to mimic your brother in every way and you’ll be reading and using the potty when you’re 18 months old.

Right now, though, you’re asleep on my lap.  I took a little break mid-composition to change your diaper, get your brother breakfast, take a shower, and get dressed, and now we’re just snuggling.  You just did that thing babies do where you startle in your sleep, throwing your arms out.  Your little blond hairs are so fluffy.  Your eyebrows and eyelashes are almost transparent.  Your neck smells good because you don’t puke very much.

You bring me such joy, little Toby.  I don’t know what I ever did without my little Sunshine-Face.

In closing, I submit this cartoon in memory of Bil Keane, who in general was not very funny but really hit it with this one:

Love,

Mommy

I think perhaps it is boring for me to update 3 days a week on the topic of pushups.

I’ll stop.  But I won’t stop doing pushups.  I did 50 today (in 5 sets).

Miles was playing with two action figures, and they were having a conversation.  Both voices came from Miles.

Action Figure 1:  I saw a big monster.

Action Figure 2:  But it was just in your imagination, right?

Action Figure 1:  Right.