With drawn butter

Filed under: — Aprille @ 2:44 pm

M:  Oh, cwap!

A:  What?  What did you say? Did you say “clap,” like “clap your hands”?

M:  No, cwap.

A:  Oh.  Um…okay.

M:  (making a pinching gesture).  You know, cwap.  Like in the ocean?


This moment

Filed under: — Aprille @ 11:28 am

{this moment (with special thanks to Darah)} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.


Arroz con pescado

Filed under: — Aprille @ 9:06 pm

We were at a Mexican restaurant that had cool decorative fish on the wall, and before we got our food, Miles had been having fun running up to look at them.  After our dinners came, he sat down to eat.

M:  I want Mommy to say, “Do you want to go see the fish?”

A:  Do you want to go see the fish?

M:  After I finish my rice.

He ate more rice then got down to see the fish.

It also quacks like a duck

Filed under: — Aprille @ 5:38 pm

A:  Did you have a poopy, honey?

M:  It smells like one…


As a bird

Filed under: — Aprille @ 5:41 pm

Miles has been really into maraschino cherries lately.

A:  Would you like any cherries on your ice cream?

M:  Yeah!

A:  How many do you want?

M:  It starts with F.  Ffff…fff…fff…fwee!


The indecisive farmer

Filed under: — Aprille @ 3:41 pm

In his sleep, early one morning

M:  (sounding perturbed) Cat…no, horsie.  E-I-E-I-O.

This moment

Filed under: — Aprille @ 10:06 am

{this moment (with special thanks to Darah)} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.


This moment

Filed under: — Aprille @ 9:25 am

{this moment (with special thanks to Darah)} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.


A 35+ year friendship

Filed under: — Aprille @ 10:21 am

Mubby and Skittergramps are visiting.  Mubby was still asleep, and Miles and I were hanging out in the dining room with Skittergramps.  After playing for a while and having some breakfast, Miles got a pensive look about him.

M:  What about Skittergramps’s friend?

A:  … You mean Mubby?

M:  Yeah!


Monthly Miles Memo #36

Filed under: — Aprille @ 12:35 pm

Happy birthday, my little Miles!

Dragging you out of bed has been a challenge lately, but this morning, all it took was a reminder that it was a very special day.  You did want to be all wrapped up in a blanket and for me to carry you out to the dining room “like a tiny little baby,” but once you got out there and saw your birthday decorations, you were psyched.  Then Beanie came and gave you a special present, a robot toy that she crocheted, and you got so excited and said, “I just love it.”

Last night, you helped me make your birthday cake (chocolate with chocolate frosting, of course), and you heavily sampled the cake scraps and frosting, just to make sure they were okay.  I think they passed your test.  I’m sure we’ll be taking video tonight of the candle-blowing and present-opening ceremonies.

You are very accomplished at present-opening now after all the Christmas madness.  We had an early Christmas morning at home, then headed 0ut to various parts of the state for celebrations with assorted family branches.  I think you had the most fun at the Rooster party.  You really warmed up to the Linduska kids, and you perfected a deep lunge move that you used when distributing presents.

You’re getting a little antsy in the cold weather.  We’ve taken a few jaunts outside to play in the snow, including making a super-cool snowman, but mostly you’ve been stuck inside.  Your dad invented a game in which he slides the mattress part-way off the box springs in the play room, and you call it your ramp and run up and down it.  It’s good for playing Jack and Jill and Humpty Dumpty, and it helps you burn off some energy when you’re stuck inside.

It’s hard to list all the things you’ve learned and the ways in which you’ve developed over the last year.  You’re so much a part of our family that I can’t even imagine a world without you, so I have trouble remembering milestones (which I guess is why I have this site, eh?).  Let’s look back at the last year of Monthly Miles Memos and pick something notable from each one:

#25:  You were delightful, with few tantrums, and your sentence-building ability was blossoming.

#26:  You became very opinionated, and you mastered all the letters of the alphabet.  You also grasped the concept that letters form words (e.g., reading off my shirt, “A-R-I-Z-O-N-A:  Mommy!”).

#27:  This was that really horrible phase where you freaked out around strangers.  We made a visit to Willowwind, and it was disastrous, not because you didn’t like the place, but because people tried to talk to you.  In better news, you had a blast finding (and opening, and eating the contents of) Easter eggs.

#28:  The stranger horror was blessedly short-lived, and you returned to your nice self.  You played outside a lot, and your dad and I had near-heart-attacks many times as you ran like a madman on the sidewalk at the playground.  You also mastered the twirly slide.

#29:  It was a month in which you were very creative and fun, and you delighted in being outside.  You especially liked throwing things in the creek by our playground.  You also helped with gardening, especially the picking of ripe strawberries.

#30:  This was the month we went to California, where you swam like a crazy man.  You also liked to make jokes, such as telling us that we eat not with our mouths and tummies, but rather with our eyeballs.

#31:  Your feet smelled so bad this month.  Oh man.  We did a lot of toe baths.  You also got the Weird Toy this month, which has become a fixture in your visits to Mubby and Skittergramps’ house.

#32:  We went to Denver, where you especially enjoyed the bubble activity at the Denver Children’s Museum.  You still dropped the letters S an F whenever they appeared in words.  We also made your very special orange dudju.

#33:  This is the month you started correcting people all the time, by saying, “Actually…” then contradicting whatever they had said.  Know-it-all-ism is something I struggle with too, honey.  We’ll work on it.  You also became less consistent in your nap schedule this month.

#34:  We went to the Covered Bridge Festival with Nana and Papa, and to Lincoln to visit Uncle Tyler.  I was very grumpy when I wrote that one, because the mid-term elections had just happened, and Iowa (and the rest of the nation) had disheartening results.  It’s a good thing I had you to cheer me up.

#35:  I noted that you had nearly mastered pronoun use.  You almost never get I/you/me/we confused anymore.  We had another visit to Willowwind that was much better than the previous one.  You also had your first movie in a real theater.

And now, here we are.  Three years ago today, at this very minute, I was exhausted.  I had been pushing for almost an hour and a half, and it felt like you were never going to get out.  And then, amazingly, you did.  Most of the 20 or so hours of your journey into the world are a blur, but that moment is something I remember very clearly.  I remember thinking before you were born that I wasn’t sure I’d want to touch a baby who was still covered in the blood and slime of the whole process, that maybe they could wipe you up a bit before they handed you to me.  But when that moment came, if anyone had done anything that would have caused even a minute’s delay, I would have hauled my bruised and torn body out of  bed and grabbed you myself.

You were still all squeezed up like a little bullet, but I put my hand under the blanket that was keeping you warm and touched your skin.   I remember thinking I had never touched anything softer than your tiny back:   skin that had never been burned by the sun or chapped by the wind or irritated by fragranced bath products.  I had to let go after just a couple of minutes, because the NICU team needed to make sure you were okay after your early exit, but your daddy went with you and sang to you.  Ever since the very instant you were in this world, Miles, you’ve had hands on your back, songs in your ears, and kisses on your fuzzy little head.

(photo by Denny)

As long as I have anything to say, you will never know a world without love.

I know you’ll continue to grow more independent, and I do want that for you.  I’m glad you aren’t as scared of things as you used to be, that you can go down twirly slides and tool around swimming pools and pack your own penguin backpack for Poto Weeko.  But know that if the slide is too hot, if the pool is too deep, or if your backpack is too heavy, I’ll be there to help you out.

(Though most of the time you want to do it “all by myself.”)

(But I’ll be there, just in case.)




He makes a good point

Filed under: — Aprille @ 5:39 pm

Earlier this afternoon, Miles and Denny were playing a game that involved Miles running around yelling, “Crazy, silly Daddy!”  When I was changing his diaper just now, Miles asked for Daddy.

A:  Do you want crazy, silly Daddy, or regular Daddy?

M: What regular Daddy?

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