He misses Lost too.

Filed under: — Aprille @ 10:50 am

As reported by Beanie:

Miles is sitting on floor, popping bubble wrap.

M: Beanie? Beanie!?

B: Yes?

M: Thinkin bout polar bears, okay?


Monthly Miles Memo #29

Filed under: — Aprille @ 9:00 am

Happy 29 months, my little guy.

I was just listening to you play in the other room.  You were talking on your toy phone.  You said, “Hi, Uncle Tyler.  How you doing?  Miles talk on phone.  Bye, Uncle Michael.  Bye, Uncle Tyler.”

It was a three-party call, apparently.

That type of play is something you’ve been doing more lately:  sitting quietly and enjoying your toys and using your imagination.  That, of course, is balanced by your other new favorite game, called “Daddy Need a Hug.”  To do that, you start in the play room, run at full-speed down the hallway, do a lap around the coffee table in the living room, and eventually land in Daddy’s arms.  Sometimes you get so excited about the running part that you skip the hug and just run the course again, but the sentiment is there.

You’ve been so creative and fun lately.  It’s been wonderful to get outside and play, because you have such a great time running around in the grass and at the playground.  One of your favorite things lately is to throw sticks off the bridge into the creek.  You also love to blow the puff off dandelions, throw wood chips everywhere, and examine our strawberry patch for new ripe fruit.

A couple of weeks ago, your dad and I were getting some gardening done while you played in the back yard.  Your favorite thing was to soak a sponge in a bucket of water, then squeeze it out over our strawberry patch.  Now that we have a bumper crop of strawberries coming on, I like to remind you how much you helped by watering them.  You’re so proud of yourself, and I like for you to see the connection between work and rewards.

This is a concept that hasn’t been working so well with regard to the potty.  We got you a fancy new one, but you won’t even sit on it unless you’re fully dressed.  I’m not sure what your hangup is, and even promises of chocolate mints (your favorite—Andes and York Peppermint Patties are both acceptable) won’t get your nude butt on there.

I just keep telling myself that I’m unlikely to have to change your size 14 diaper before your high school graduation.  We’ll get it done eventually.

One thing we’ve noticed lately is that you know all the words to the songs we’ve been singing you since you were little.  I guess that makes sense, since you’ve heard them hundreds of times, but it’s really funny to hear the lyrics to my silly, made-up songs come out of your mouth.

A:  Who’s my little Scooper-boo?

M:  It Miles!  It Miles!  Who little ‘cooper-boo?  It Miles!  It Miles!

You also get excited about the goofy songs I make up on the spur of the moment to describe the world around us.  I didn’t even realize I did it as much as I do until you started pressuring me to repeat them.  These songs are not artistic masterpieces.  Many of them sound really stupid, actually, but you enjoy them.  One that has become popular around the house:

(To the tune of “Hey, Jude”)

Don’t smoke.
It makes you gross.
It makes you gross and
I’m not into it.

That’s pretty much it.  I’m more excited when you demand and repeat the higher-quality items in my repertoire, like Arrorró mi niño.  That’s a Latin American lullaby I learned when I was just a little kid, and I love singing it to you.  You can sing along now pretty well, too.

We need to get you out to the swimming pool another once or twice before vacation.  At the end of this month, we’re going to California to see Uncle Larry and Auntie Lily, and you are pretty excited about using the pool in their yard.  Anything with water thrills you, from a lawn sprinkler to a hotel pool to a cup at the table.

You had an outrageously fun time playing with Uncle Tyler on our recent trip to Omaha.  There was a problem with our hotel pool, and the thought of you not being able to swim was just too sad, so we ended up trekking out to another pool to swim.  You had so much fun, both swimming and going to the zoo.  You’re a little unusual—sometimes it seems like you’re not having fun because you can be so serious.  But I think you’re really just learning and concentrating.  One of the first animals we saw was a cheetah, which someone (Skittergramps, maybe?) named Mr. Cheetah.  You seemed to enjoy it as much or as little as any of the other animals, and we continued along.  But last Sunday, we were at a store that had a lot of realistic-looking stuffed animals.  You pointed up to a spotted big cat and said “Mr. Cheetah!”

The animals were cool, but when I asked you what your favorite part of the weekend was, you told me it was playing on the bed with Uncle Tyler.

Every day, it seems, you do something new and funny and wonderful.  Some days you do some crappy things.  We almost didn’t make it out of the house last Sunday because you were throwing an extended tantrum.  I’m glad we did, though.  Once you got calmed down, we had a tasty brunch, rudeness-free, and then we went to a graduation party.  You had a blast there.  You met two big kids, the children of your dad’s coworker, and you guys played ball and ran around on the grass.  You pulled out your A material for them, including the SPRING BREAK torso flash and the ‘tude face.  Now you want to talk about Holly and Eli all the time.

This summer is going to be great, Little Miles.  We’ll be on vacation for your next month completion date, which is actually your half birthday, so the next installment will be a little late.  But never you fear.  The summer is only beginning, and there’s nothing better than being a little kid in the summertime.

Thank you for being my little Scooper-boo.  I wouldn’t want a summer without you.




Watch out for stingrays

Filed under: — Aprille @ 8:22 pm

We were talking about nicknames Miles has.

A:  I call you lots of things.  I call you Scoop, and I also call you honey, and sweetheart…

M:  And “Crikey, Miles.”


Where’s the butt?

Filed under: — Aprille @ 5:56 pm

A bit ago, Miles got a bunch of shoes out and lined them up on the living room floor.  After counting them a few times, he assumed a downward dog position and started reaching back between his legs and grabbing shoes.

M:  One behind your butt…two behind your butt…three behind your butt…

At this point, enough shoes had accumulated behind him that he had to start piling the shoes directly under the apex of his downward dog.

M:  Four (pause) in your butt…five in your butt…


Pedro’s story

Filed under: — Aprille @ 8:15 am

I’m sorry to say I must interrupt my usual goofiness with a sadder story.

A high school classmate of mine, Emily, is married to Pedro.  They have a super-adorable little boy, Logan.  Pedro came to this country when he was eight years old.   Excepting a couple of minor issues in his teen years, he has been a productive, contributing member of our society.  Through a series of technicalities, errors, and judicial ridiculousness, Pedro has been held in custody since September 2009, deemed an illegal immigrant and denied opportunities to communicate his situation.

Worst of all, he has been separated from his little boy.

You can read the whole story on the website Emily has set up:  http://www.logansdad.com

Father’s Day is coming up.  There are a lot of crappy dads in the world.  Don’t we owe it to our kids to let the good dads be in their lives?

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