Dear Miles,

I want to keep these Monthly Miles Memos being mostly about you, so I’m not going to dwell too much on your little brother.  He’ll get his own letter on or near the 21st.  But becoming a big brother is a pretty major thing, so I’ll discuss a few aspects of your new role that bear mentioning.

Photo by Gary Clarke

You are (mostly) so sweet and kind to Tobin.  You always worry about whether he’s okay, and you never want him to be in a room alone, even when he’s sleeping.  You reassure him when he cries, and you touch his hair and remark on how soft it is.  You were very interested in his umbilical cord stump, and when it fell off a few days ago, I brought you in to show you because I thought you’d want to see it.  You seemed concerned and asked why it happened.  Trying to reassure you, I explained that it was normal, and it was a sign that Tobin was growing up big and strong.  Much to my surprise, you burst into tears and said you wanted him to stay little.  Now you know how I feel every time I hold you in my arms and mentally gasp about how big you are.

You do seem enormous now.  I like that you still enjoy cuddles, because I love having you on my lap, but you take up almost the whole couch.  You’re still a skinny guy, but despite being one of the younger ones in your preschool class, you’re among the tallest.  You’ve had a lot of fun playing sports lately.  Your dad got you a soccer ball, and you’ve been playing with it a lot.  I don’t know enough about soccer to know for sure how you’re doing, but you can kick straight and stop the ball by stepping on it.  Sometimes you fall down, but not usually.

The weather has been great lately, so we’ve been spending a lot of time playing in the park.  Your dad is still home half-time (and I am really, really not looking forward to that arrangement ending), so we’ve been doing lots of family trips outside.  I can tell school has improved your social skills, because you’re doing a good job of talking to and playing with other kids at the playground.  You also get excited when we see your classmates out and about.  We recently had encounters and HyVee and El Bandito’s restaurant with a couple of kids from your class, and you were mostly thrilled and only a little shy.

You’ve been really imaginative lately.  You like to act out stories you know and make up new ones, using your various toys as props and characters.  Anything with a string attached is Rapunzel, including a rather pathetic-looking little plastic duck with a long cord and a purple top a friend brought back from turkey.

Photo by Gary Clarke

You never want to tell your dad or me what you did in school.  Thank goodness for the notes your teacher leaves on the white board outside the classroom, or I’d assume you sat in a corner and did nothing all day.  Of course, I often catch you singing songs you learned in school (sometimes in Spanish), and rumor has it you spend a lot of time with your new friend Tessa.  Your dad is usually the one who drops you off, and he tells me that Tessa often runs to greet you.  You don’t always welcome her hugs, but your teacher tells me you’ve become great buddies.

It was a summer of big transitions for you:  starting school, moving into a new bedroom, and getting a new brother.  I’m so proud of how well you did at all of them.  You’ve been having fun listening to Beatles songs (and singing along with your own variations, such as “Lucy in the sky with all the diamonds”).  You love sprinkling yourself and others with the garden hose.  You can put on your own shoes, and you like riding on the back of our new double stroller when Tobin and I pick you up from school.

Photo by Gary Clarke

My first baby, my special boy.  I love you so much.

Mommy