Just this morning, I was telling your dad how much I’m enjoying the stage you’re in right now. You’re so imaginative and fun, and your stubbornness and occasional jerkiness seem to have faded for the time being. It could also be that we’ve just learned how to deal with them better, but either way, life has been good here.
Your potty training is going smashingly. On May 1, you switched to big-boy underpants, including some really cool ones with Yo Gabba Gabba characters on them (a show you’ve barely watched but really made an impression on you). You’ve only had a few accidents since then, none in the last few days, and last night you even took the big step of using an adult-sized toilet at Heyn’s. You were a little disappointed that it didn’t make music when you peed in it like your little potty does, but it was still a good moment.
I started writing this entry on your actual month birthday, but I got interrupted and I’m finishing it on Mother’s Day. We took our annual picture outside this morning, even though I was feeling lumpy and bloated and not especially cute. You were your usual adorable self, though, looking very grown-up in your plaid shirt. We had a good brunch out at the Lincoln Cafe, where you used the big potty with no problem at all. This means you’re definitely getting closer to being ready for Willowwind, which is pretty exciting.
We found out last month that Darth Vader is a little brother, but you still refuse to believe it. If your dad and I refer to the baby as “he,” you correct us and say “She. The doctors were wrong.” I think that’s pretty doubtful. We got a clear glimpse of some very boy-looking parts on the ultrasound. They also tell us everything looks good in the liver, brain, heart, kidneys, spine, and pancreas, but I couldn’t make out most of those things. Once you get over the fact that the baby’s a boy, I think you’re going to be a great big brother. You like to sing to my tummy, and sometimes you cradle your stuffed animals in your arms and say, “Don’t worry, bunny. I will take care of you.”
You’ve finally entered the daredevil phase I always dreaded. You’re still on the gentle and timid side, overall, which is good for my blood pressure. But lately you’ve taken an interest in climbing up things and jumping off them, which so far has not resulted in any serious injuries. You really like dressing up, and a trip to Mubby’s dance studio meant a seriously weird outfit for you. Unlike last year, when you kept the same idea for a Halloween costume for months, you’ve switched your plan quite a few times now. As of this morning, you want to be a green and yellow striped tiger. I don’t know how or if that’s going to happen. Maybe you’ll change your mind again into something that’s easier for the mother of a two-month-old to scrape together. You wanted to be a ghost for a while there. That would be good.
Easter was lots of fun this year, and you caught on immediately to the egg-finding concept. You really liked the Easter candy, though you were not so interested in ham and potatoes and asparagus. We hunted for eggs at Mubby and Skittergramps’ house, which meant you weren’t distracted by the globe on our mantle. You can still find China and California, and you get the right general area for Puerto Rico (though Hispaniola trips you up a bit). The other day, you gestured to somewhere on the globe and called it “Corsanerica.” Then you pointed at another place and called it “Afrimerica.” I guess we’ll keep working on geography.
I’m so proud of all you’ve accomplished lately, Miles. This month has really marked a turning point into the little boy realm. I love cooking with you and acting out stories and taking walks to HyVee (or better yet, the Sno-Cone stand). People always say you’re tall, and I guess you are. I’m glad you still like to cuddle me, though. Even as my tummy gets bigger, I promise I’ll still always find a way to snuggle up with you. I might have to lie on my side and have some countersupport on my back, but I’ll always have at least one arm open for you.
Thank you for making me a mommy. I love you so much.