My dear Miles,

Who knew you’d be a role model?

There’s someone in our house (hint:  it’s Tobin) who watches everything you do.  He looks around when he hears your voice.  He smiles when he sees you.  His eyes follow you where ever you go.  You’re a pretty interesting guy.

You remain an excellent big brother.  The other day, Tobin was in his swing, crying, and I didn’t get to him as quickly as I should have.  I heard you say, “What’s the matter, little guy?” in a very concerned voice.  You often comment on how cute Tobin is, but you are quite sure that he should stay little instead of growing up.  That’s how I feel about both of you.

Of course, it would be good if you grew up enough to understand that your outside time at school would be more fun if you wore heavy-duty gloves and snow-pants.  Today when I picked you up you were sad, and the chin area of your hooded coat was covered in a cold, slimy, snotty mess.  You said you were sad because your hands got cold, which led us into a conversation about wearing your heavier gloves instead of the light fleece mittens you prefer.  Even in the face of compelling evidence, you still didn’t seem very inclined to wear your gloves.  We’ll see if you can remember that come Monday.

One of the most exciting things you’ve picked up lately is photography.  Your dad got out his old digital Rebel.  He doesn’t use it anymore, though it’s arguably still a lot of camera for a three-year-old.  You do a really good job with it.  Your dad and Skittergramps have both taken you on photo walks, and I’ve led several photo expeditions around the house.  We got some of your best work printed, and you were so excited and proud to fill up your new photo album.  There are still some empty slots, though, so I’m glad you still seem interested in taking pictures.

We spent some time at Mubby and Skittergramps’s house in November when your dad went to San Francisco for a conference.  That was a lot of fun, a highlight of which was a trip you took with Mubby.  You went downtown to a special Christmas event, and you came back with some fancy Batman-style face paint.  That was on Saturday, and you didn’t want to wash it off that night or the next day.  In fact, you insisted on keeping it on until Monday, so you could show your friends at school.  By that time, it had worn off enough that it was pretty much just a big blue unibrow.  The Monday night bath did not go smoothly, but it ended with your face clean.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and as usual we had a lot of fun.  You enjoyed seeing Nana and Papa as well as assorted other relatives on your dad’s side.  A highlight of the Beary Thanksgiving this year for you was playing Slapjack.  Aunt Jackie taught you how to play and gave you a couple of decks of cards.  You haven’t quite mastered the subtleties of it yet, but you can slap a jack with great enthusiasm.  Now we just need to get you to put your card down so your opponent can see it.  Your current strategy involves spending five or six seconds looking at the card before putting it down.  You do know the difference between clubs and spades, though, which I don’t think I figured out until I was about twelve.  Another big hit at Thanksgiving was seeing Uncle Tyler.  He never sticks around long, but he loves playing with you and your brother.  We’ve been reading stories every night out of the Curious George collection he gave you.

Photo by Gary Clarke

Your true love is playing computer games, but I try not to let you waste your youth entirely on them.  We’ve also had a lot of fun lately doing creative projects, like arranging paper scraps between sheets of waxed paper and fusing them together with the iron, and making mixed-media projects with various household items and a lot of Elmer’s glue.  A trip to JoAnn Fabrics is one of your favorite outings.  You still like to cook with me, and you’re especially excited to make cookies for Santa.  We were talking about the kind of cookies you might like to make, and you decided on Christmas trees and snowmen.  I told you I wasn’t sure we had a snowman cookie cutter, so we’d have to find one at the store.  You told me, “But we do have a rolling pin, so that’s good.”

For the first time, you have specific gifts you’ve requested from Santa.  Fortunately, Santa shops on Amazon.com, so it’s easy to verify ahead of time exactly which one you want.  This is also the first year you’re going to have a birthday party with friends, so we’ve been talking about plans for that.  That’s less than a month away.

There’s a big difference between three and four, isn’t there?  Three still seems like a toddler, and four is definitely a school-aged kid.  A year ago, I swore you were never going to be potty-trained, and we’d have to home-school you until you were 18 because you’d never pass the potty skills requirements at Willowwind.  But what a change you’ve made.  I’ll reflect on that more next month when you’re truly four.  For the time being, you’re still my little three-year-old.  You still want me to cuddle you at night, and you still run to my arms and ask for “a little love” whenever you’re scared or sad or hurt.  You still think the noodles I boil are the best thing ever (“The secret ingredient is salt!”), and you’re even pretty good about getting your teeth brushed and your accumulated boogers cleaned.

You are my special puppy, my little Scoop.  Let’s really rock this last month of three, okay?  We’ll make sure there are some cookies involved.

Love,

Mommy