D:  It’s not really so bad to eat bugs.  In some parts of the world, people eat bugs all the time.

M:  You mean shish-ka-bugs?

M:  Be sure to turn on the baby thermometer so you can hear him if he wakes up.

What do you know?  You turned sweet again.  I think last month’s memo happened to catch you at a time when you were coming down with a cold, and you weren’t exhibiting any symptoms besides grouchiness.  That has now passed, and you’re suddenly a pleasant person once again.  Hallelujah.

The weather has been nice lately, so we’ve been getting outside a lot.  This helps my sanity as we find ways to pass the afternoons, and you love going to the Faraway Playground.  Mostly you love taking off your shoes and socks and playing in the sand, which is fine if a bit messy.  However, you also enjoy playing in the wood chip area, which you don’t want to do barefoot.  Why do you always want to do the sand area first?  Do you know how difficult it is to help you get socks and shoes onto sand-covered feet while pushing a baby in a swing?

But that’s okay.  I’m glad you’re getting out and having fun.  I have to invent excuses to drag you away from the computer a lot of days, and a trip to the Faraway Playground is a good one.  You also enjoy taking trips to Hy-Vee for a treat, or even better, a sno-cone (or a Flavor-Ice, as they somehow got named in our household).

A couple of weeks ago, you chose rainbow, which is stripes of various flavors.  I had my usual, cherry margarita.  You took a break from eating yours and took a bite of mine.  “Yours is more tastier,” you said.

The next time we went to the Flavor Ice stand, I ordered a cherry margarita flavored sno-cone for my four-year-old.  It’s non-alcoholic, of course, but geez.  I can’t blame you, though.  It is a delicious combination.

Once recent trip to the Flavor Ice stand was to celebrate your school music concert.  The video I got of it wasn’t great, because you were hidden behind other kids a lot of the time, but it was still exciting to be in the audience.  You were so psyched about it.  Your music teacher, Mr. David, did a good job preparing you and your friends.  You talked about the concert for weeks before the actual event.  You sang us all the songs.  You did the actions.  Your dad and I know “A Sailor Went to Sea,” “Aiken Drum,” “Mother Goony Bird,” and “The Horse Stood Around” better than we ever thought we would.  You’ve come to really love music class at school, despite being suspicious of Mr. David at first (“I don’t like guy teachers,” you told us).  Now you are thrilled when I tell you it’s a music day at school, and you swoon when we mention Mr. David’s name.

Another exciting school event this month was V.I.P. day.  You chose Skittergramps as your special person, and despite being camera-shy, you had a lot of fun with him.  He was proud to be there with you, and he did get a few good pictures of you and your friends working and playing together.

Photo by Gary Clarke

His name-tag said “Gary Clarke, or Miles’s Skittergramps.”  Naturally, you made him add a couple more names, since you only rarely answer to Miles these days.  He had to add Marcus and Nemo to satisfy you.  I think he’s going to keep that name-tag for a long time.

It’s been rainy lately, and you’ve come to enjoy sleeping with the sound of the rain on the roof.  You’ve been cuddly at bedtime, enjoying “family sandwiches” and stories.  When I was a little girl, Skittergramps often used to fall asleep telling me bedtime stories, which annoyed me at the time, because I had to finish the story on my own.  Now I completely understand.  Most nights I awake with a start then look over to find you snoozing beside me.  Sometimes I fall asleep, wake up, check on you, and find you still awake.  Sometimes I wake up to find your face two inches from mine, peering at me.

You see, I’m tired pretty much all the time.  Taking care of two wiggly boys full-time is exhausting.  It’s not as hard as working a coal mine or something, but it certainly takes a lot of energy.  And you know what?  I’ve watched your friends at school.  You are not the wiggliest 4-year-old in Iowa City.

You might be the sweetest, though.

Most of the time.

I love you every minute of every day.

Mommy

M:  Why didn’t the number stay up?

A:  I think it needs a nail.

M:  But I am a male.

Click here to view the embedded video.

A:  Oh, no.  What did Tobin just put in his mouth?

M:  I think it’s…(pausing to consider) crap.

M:  The purple ones are more flavorish.

A:  Do you want to go fast or slow?

M:  Slow.

After a few slow spins, he got braver.

M:  Now fasten up!

Nobody understands it.  Maybe you understand it, but you haven’t done much to explain yourself.  We can’t figure out how it’s possible for a baby to nap as little as you do and maintain such good humor.  It’s simply illogical.

I got a white noise machine.  I tried putting you down at exactly 2 hour intervals.  I tried 3 hour intervals.  I tried the same time every day.  I tried just watching your signals.  The going to sleep is no problem, usually.  It’s just that you always wake up after 20 or 30 minutes.  This is not enough napping.

To clarify:  this is not enough napping for me.  You seem to be doing fine.  You’re still growing and laughing and eating and playing and making these hilarious bear roars, and most nights you sleep well.  You just seem morally opposed to long naps.  That’s why these memos and your brother’s are always late nowadays, because I never get an hour to sit down and write them.  It’s your fault if you don’t have a comprehensive record of your formative years, you little fart.

And yet, you are the jolliest little guy.  You laugh at all kinds of things.  You get really excited about your favorite foods (currently yogurt), and you’re ticklish, and I swear the other day you gave me an actual kiss with suction and release.  You may have been trying to nurse from my cheek, but I’ll take it.

As always, your greatest source of laughter is your brother.  A week or two ago, your dad was working late downstairs while you and I were asleep in the Mommy and Daddy bed.  We still call it that in the hope that one day it will regain its accuracy.  Miles woke up and came in, which he sometimes does, and your dad usually takes him to the bathroom or gets him a drink or comforts him, then he ushers him back to bed in his own room.  But that night, since your dad wasn’t there, Miles seized the opportunity and climbed into bed with us.  When your dad finally came up to bed, he found his spot taken, and rather than haul Miles out of bed and risk waking him, he went into Miles’s room and slept there.

Somewhere around 2:30 a.m., you woke up, all ready for a Power Hour.  As I’ve mentioned before, a Power Hour involves you crawling around, wide awake and in a good mood, while I ignore you as best I can while making sure you don’t roll off the bed.  This isn’t usually too big an issue, since your dad is generally on the other side.  That morning, though, you looked over and found (insert sound of an angelic choir) MILES.  You were absolutely psyched to see him.  He was fast asleep, and I wanted him to stay that way, because I seriously didn’t need two awake children at that moment.

For you, though, it was like Christmas morning.  You crawled over to him, whapping him on the back with your little fists in an attempt to get his attention.  You smiled and laughed at his snores.  He was sleeping in a shirt and underpants, and his butt featured the face of Captain America.  That caught your attention, so you did a 180 and starting whapping his behind.

It wasn’t until 4:00 that you gave up and fell asleep.  Miles slept through the whole thing.  Something tells me that once we get you moved into your own room for nighttime sleeping, you’ll be creeping into Miles’s bed.  That’s not a bad idea, since Miles wants us to have five more babies.  In the unlikely event of that occurring, we’ll definitely need you guys to double up.

You are fully mobile these days, doing kind of a hybrid crawl/scootch powered by your right foot.  When you’re still, you can stay up on all fours pretty well, but your belly hits the ground when it’s time to move.  Sometimes you gather dust bunnies for me.  You’re very helpful.

You’ve learned how to remove your pacifier and put inappropriate things into your mouth.  Your favorite target is the scraps of paper your brother leaves around after his paper-cutting activities.  I try to keep things swept up, but it’s amazing how those things hide in the nooks and crannies of our house.  It’s even more amazing how you find them.

Your “talking” is beginning to sound more like English, with distinct syllables and lots of different phonemes.  You can definitely make an M sound, so I’m waiting in anticipation of a clear mama.  I’m probably kidding myself, though.  You’ll say Miles first, or some variant.

I’m so glad I know you, little Tobin.  I’m so grateful that I get to spend all day with you.  I’m also grateful that your dad is so happy to see you when he gets home (and you him).

You’ve been asleep for 31 minutes, so I’m going to finish this up so as to not push my luck.

I love you and your tickly little neck and chubby little thighs and nuzzly little nose.

Mommy

A:  Thank you for not hurting Tobin.  You were very patient with him.

M:  I kind of…like him.