My dear Miles,

I am perhaps later with this Monthly Miles Memo than I’ve ever been.  After the day we’ve had today, I was inclined to put it off another day.  But really, if this is to be an honest account of your early years, then I shouldn’t only write them when I’m feeling one hundred percent delighted with our lives.

A dad at your school today at pick-up was lamenting about how tired he was.  He has three kids, and two of them don’t sleep so great.  He quickly admonished himself, though, and remarked that having three healthy kids is a wonderful thing, even if it can be tiring.

Having a preschooler and a toddler is a wonderful thing, even if it can be tiring.  Even if you threw a crying fit when you found out the after-school snack I got for you was animal crackers—something you’ve always enjoyed.  And you couldn’t possibly wait until we got home to have something else to eat, because that two-minute drive simply cannot happen without a snack.  And then it was pretty horrible when you finished them and I didn’t have any more.

We had your fall conference with your teachers last week.  Your dad and I exchanged a few glances as your teacher gave you an absolutely glowing report.  I think one of us may have made some sort of strange noise when he said that you are always agreeable and willing to compromise.  Who is this child, and can he come over to our house?

I know you’re capable of being a fantastic kid.  I know, at your core, you are sweet and patient and caring.  I see it often in how you interact with your brother, and your teacher shared a few specific anecdotes that illustrated your unselfishness and patience.  I’m sure it’s frustrating and overwhelming to be you.  Your brother bit you really hard today.  You moaned and cried about it for a very long time, probably longer than you could even remember which arm he got.  To your credit, you didn’t hit him or do anything else retaliatory.  You said, “We don’t bite in this family!  I don’t want to see you do that again!”

At least something’s sinking in (besides Tobin’s teeth).

We had some fun times this month.  You caught your dad’s and my enthusiasm about the election, and you led us in some rousing cheers of “Ba-RACK O-BA-ma” (with arm pump) and “Fired up, ready to go.”  You helped me make a campaign logo-themed tart.  You are also quite sure there was some sort of third-party candidate called the Iron Cake.  I have no idea what or who that is.

Halloween was a good time.  Along with several of your school friends, you dressed as Spider-Man.  Tobin and I went to school to watch your Halloween party and parade.  I love watching you at school.  You’re so mature and composed in that setting.  We also went to a Halloween party at the house of one of your friends.  Seeing the madness that was a bunch of preschool and elementary kids hopped up on Pixie Sticks swinging swords around, I had to appreciate your generally calm nature.

Well, would you look at that.  I seem to have talked myself back into being in a good mood about you.  It’s amazing what a few minutes to myself and a chance to reflect on the month will do.

Oh, another exciting thing that happened this month was that we made some changes in your room décor.  We bought a rug that we intended to use in the living room, but once we rolled it out, it didn’t quite work in there.  After a little thought, we decided that a brown rug with a big koi fish on it would be pretty great in your room.  So we set about tearing out your carpet, which you helped to do.  We rearranged the furniture a bit to create a large play space in the room.  I was against it, because it’s bad feng shui to have your feet pointed at the wall with the door on it, but your dad felt strongly about the topic.  You haven’t woken up screaming in the night like I predicted, so I guess he wins.  We also got you a new, bright green duvet cover.  It all looks pretty cool, and I think you’re proud of it.  It’s fun and youthful without being juvenile, so I don’t think we’ll have to replace everything in three years.

You keep asking for bunk beds for you and Tobin to share.  Once that kid gets his act together, I think that would be pretty fun.

You’re a good kid, Miles.  You really are.  It’s tough being little, and sometimes it’s tough being a mommy, but I know you’re on your way to greatness.  Thanks for hanging out with your dad for a while so I can regather my brain enough to remember that.

I love you.

Mommy