Miles Update

I know I haven't been updating very often lately, and when I have, it has mostly been about me.  So, here is an update all about Miles!

Some things he has been up to:

• Hanging out with Linda while Mommy is at work.  They have been to various libraries, museums, and so many other places that Mommy can hardly keep up.
• Hanging out with Mommy at home.  We're doing a whole lot of nothing around here.  Some TV, lots of playtime, even some reading cuddles.  Oh, and tons of dancing silliness.
• Showing off for Grandpa Troy, Great-Grandpa, Aunt Tami, and Uncle Russ.

New things he can do:

• Pratfall.  He pretends to fall down, in hilarious ways, and then over-dramatically shakes it off, with a "Whoa!"
• Navigate the touch screen on my smart phone.  He knows how to turn it on, pull up the menu, and select a game to play.
• Drink out of an open cup.  Occasionally, he makes a mess, but that's part of being not-quite-two.
• Ride his push toys.  He's finally tall enough to make all of them go.  :)
• Go to bed without a fuss, even for naps.  We still have our difficulties from time to time, but for the most part, Miles is finally sleeping well.
• Take off his pants.  And then his diaper.  Not exactly a milestone I am celebrating.

Is it any wonder I've been too busy to write? :)

Dear Miles,

In nine days, you will be 22 months old.  Two months from being 2 years old.

I can no longer pretend that you're still my baby.  You are a toddler, with goals, and opinions, and desires all your own.  And you are beginning to be able to communicate those to us (sometimes slow-witted) adults.  And when we correctly interpret your latest word, you smile and wrinkle your nose, and bounce up and down, and clap for us, celebrating our success.

These moments are flying by so quickly.  One day, you are grunting and pointing, and the next, you are clearly stating what you want.  You are acquiring new words so quickly that I can no longer keep up with recording them, as I have done for so long.

You are fascinated with the alphabet.  You have already begun to point out the letters and name them, and you even know the sounds that some of them make.  My heart swells with pride when you point at H and say, "Ayychh. Huh" or at X, saying "Eck!"  And you definitely know the letter M, the mmmmm that begins your name.  And speaking of your name, when someone asks, "Where's Miles?" you have started to point at yourself, grinning at the silly person who had to ask.

In the car, you have begun to recognize where we are going.  On our way to work, you say, "Mama wuk".  If we go see Daddy for lunch, you say, "Daddy!  Daddy wuk!" (You also explain to me that "Daddy wuk" when he is not at home).  When we go to Aunt Ninell's house, you get all excited and start clapping.

And you're beginning to understand humor.  This morning, as I was changing your diaper, you said, "Mama" and then a word that sounded kinda like "duck".  I said, "Mommy's a duck?" and you giggled hysterically.  And you fall over laughing when the bird explodes in Shrek.

In short, you are amazing.  You are growing and changing so quickly, and it is a true joy to watch you.

I love you, with all of my heart.
-Mommy

"Don't Eat That!" is my new mantra

Stuff my son has eaten recently: 

• Play-doh
• Dog food
• Cat food
• Paper
• Half of a playing card
• Stickers (undetermined number)
• Kleenex (unused)
• Napkins (at a restaurant)
• The corner of a board book
• A little yellow flower from the yard

Stuff my son has stuck in his mouth recently:

• Every damn rock we see
• My deodorant
• Golf balls (plastic)
• Dog toys
• Books
• My pants (while I'm wearing them)
• My shirt sleeve (while I'm wearing it)
• My hair
• The dog's ear
• Various and sundry stuffed animal bits
• Socks
• Coins of every denomination.  I'm pretty sure he even tried to eat a Mexican peso the other day.

Stuff my son has licked* recently:

• Every floor he sees regularly
• Most flat surfaces in our home
• Several flat surfaces in other peoples' homes
• Random restaurant tables
• Windows
• Doors
• Multiple televisions (not all ours)
• Random furniture
• People's legs
• My feet
• My cell phone
• My laptop
• The couch
• Lots of rocks
• The sidewalk
• The playground equipment
• My pillow
• The baby gate
• The soap dispenser in the bathroom
• The outside of the peanut butter jar

Stuff my child has refused to eat/stick in his mouth recently:

• Crackers
• Cereal
• Chicken
• Rice
• Sweet potatoes
• Milk
• Green beans
• Bread (though, he did lick the peanut butter off of it. . .)
• Beans
• Macaroni
• Pancakes
• Apples
• Various other actual foods that would provide him sustenance. 

<Sigh>


*Seriously?  Who goes around licking things?  Weirdo. :)

The Entertainer

Yesterday morning, we went to toddler story time at a local library.  Since it's designed for toddlers, the format included lots of music and finger plays, with two short stories.  It's supposed to encourage the kids to get up and move a little.

So, I was floored to see the almost perfect circle of almost perfectly behaved toddlers, sitting quietly in their moms' laps the entire time.  Seriously, these kids, none of whom was more than two years old, sat quietly, just enjoying the show.

Meanwhile, my adorable son stood up right away, and decided that the center of the circle was a stage.  He danced.  He jumped.  He spun in circles.  In short, he performed for the other kids and their moms.  Occasionally, he would run around the perimeter, trying to get the other kids to join him, but to no avail.  It didn't seem to worry Miles, though.  He just went back to performing, completely comfortable with having the spotlight all to himself.  And at the end of each song, all of the toddlers would clap.

And Miles would toss both arms in the air for a moment, as if to say, "Ta da!"

Best.kid.ever.

I Could Get Used to This . . .

Miles has always had a special love of the vacuum, which he calls the "Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."*  Usually, that means that he spends a ton of time chasing me around the room while I try desperately to sweep up the cereal crumbs.  After literally months of this, Patrick and I broke down and bought him his very own vacuum.

So far, he loves it.  And so do I.  He can now sweep up his own messes.  And he does.  And it is bliss.  The end.

Wait.  What do you mean he spends most of his time chasing the dog with it?  And the dog?  He barks at it.  Loudly

Oh, well, he's vacuuming.  Yeah, I could definitely get used to this. :)

* Add about 30 more seconds worth of "rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" after that, and that is close to what Miles calls the vacuum.

Blowing Fire

So, I may have mentioned that my child occasionally watches that evil device known as a television, right?  Well, his favorite show is a beautiful little cartoon called, "Jane and the Dragon".  It's about a young girl, destined to be a lady-in-waiting, who has managed to earn the right to train for knighthood.  Her best friend is a full-sized, fire-breathing, snarky dragon.  This show is pure genius, in so many ways.  But, that's not the point.

The point is that this adorable show has been the catalyst for Miles' very first bout of pretend play.  He adores the show, and often gets very excited and jumps up when Dragon comes on the screen.  The other day, Dragon got really frustrated with a situation, and threw his head back, exhaling a stream of flame into the air.  Miles immediately threw his head back, exhaling sharply out of his lower lip.

I gasped.  I must have, because he turned to look at me.  "Miles?" I asked, "are you blowing fire like Dragon?"  He grinned, and did it again.  Since then, whenever he is frustrated with the world, he throws his head back and 'breathes fire'.

Then, on Tuesday, as Dragon flew off into the sky at the end of the episode, Miles threw his arms out to the sides, flapping them up and down like wings, and ran around the room, blowing fire.  He was pretending to be Dragon.

And they tried to make me feel guilty for letting him watch TV. :)

Mommy's Little Mimic

I have to tell you, I am loving toddlerhood.  The independence.  The personality.  The communication.

One of my favorite things, though, is having my own personal mimic.  It's hysterical (and a little bit scary) to see him act out things he has seen me do.  And it's not always immediately.  On the contrary, it's often hours - or even days - later, when he suddenly breaks out with something unexpected.

Most recently, it was a dance move.  To be fair, this kid has been copying dance moves for ages - he was copying gypsy dances before his first birthday.  But, Monday was the first time he has copied my silliness and turned it into a dance move.

Let me back up and explain, for those who don't have toddlers, that one of the best ways to entertain them is with a dance party.  Turn on the tunes and just go for it.  The crazier your moves, the more they enjoy it.  So, while listening to Remarkable Cows from Sandra Boynton's Philadelphia Chickens CD,* Mommy broke out her Rockette's style kick-line.  All by myself.  And I may or may not have fallen over at the end of it.  But only because I was kicking and shaking my foot wildly to induce a Giggle Fit.

Two hours later, when Miles played the ABC song on his music table, I saw those same high kicks coming from my son.  He was shrieking with laughter, wiggling his butt, waving his arms, and kicking his leg up every couple of steps.  When the song ended, he fell over backward and wiggled his feet for all he was worth.

And then, of course, he applauded himself.

*Seriously, go find this book/CD combo if you have a toddler.  It is the.best.  Bar none.

The Juice Ritual

I honestly can't believe I haven't talked about this before now.  This is, by far, one of my favorite things that Patrick has ever taught Miles.

Miles has always been a very 'thirsty' kid.  He can suck down a cup of juice or milk in no time flat, and then asks for more.  He has been known to do this over and over and over and over and . . . well, you get the idea.  The problem is that my little toddler-man is really impatient.  It was getting to the point that every refill became a race to fill the cup and return it to Miles before he noticed.  It was a race I usually lost.  He ended up frustrated, which made me frustrated, which just led to all sorts of unhappiness.

Until one day when Patrick was home.  Rather than racing to finish the job, Patrick calmly sat down on the floor and allowed Miles to help.  What began as a simple task of holding the lids while we poured has turned into what we lovingly refer to as the Juice Ritual (even if it's done with milk).

We take the cup into the kitchen, and the parent sits on the floor and opens the refrigerator door.  Miles goes to the refrigerator, and pulls out the container for his choice of drink (either milk or juice - we keep them both on the bottom shelf).  Then, he closes the refrigerator door, and pops a squat across from the parent.  Parent will then loosen the lid on the container, and Miles will unscrew it.  Meanwhile, Parent removes the top from the cup.  Both lids are then placed in the loving care of Miles, while Parent pours the liquid.  Miles then returns the lids to their proper places, and works on screwing the top back onto the juice container while Parent closes the cup.  Parent re-opens the refrigerator, and Miles then picks up the container, and puts it back in the refrigerator and closes the door.  He is rewarded with a full cup, and a high five.  We, in turn, are rewarded with a notable lack of shrieking and a smile of pride on his tiny face.  And five minutes of relative peace until he finishes that cup. :)

He loves that fattening juice! :)

Don't Ask If You Don't Want the Answer

Miles and I have been working on animal sounds lately.  He knows that a dog says, "woof" and a cat says, "meow" and a duck says, "quack" (though getting him to show that he knows that is sometimes a challenge).

Yesterday, it went something like this:

Me:  "What does a dog say?"
Miles: <makes clicking noise with tongue, and pats legs - like he's calling the dog>
Me: "Close enough.  What does a kitty say?"
Miles: "Kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty!"
Me:  "Okaaay, what does a duck say?"
Miles: <makes the sign for 'duck'>
Me: What does Daddy say?
Miles: <sticks his tongue out> "Baaaaah"
Me: <giggling, now> Really?  What does Mommy say?
Miles: <several minutes of gibberish, complete with hand gestures>
Me: Mommy says all that?
Miles: Ess.

I guess I shouldn't have asked . . . :)

Dip!

No, I'm not calling you names, I promise. :)

Two months ago, Miles would eat anything we put in front of him.  Especially if Mommy or Daddy had a bite first.  Now?  Not so much.  He eats bananas like they're going out of style, and he'll still eat just about any variety of bread, but getting him to eat much of anything else has been a struggle.

Until we discovered the power of dip.

This kid will eat anything that he can dip in anything.  Chips and salsa?  Devoured.  Pretzels and marinara sauce?  Inhaled.  Crackers and warm peanut butter?  Demolished.  He especially like the last one.  So much, in fact, that I had to give him more crackers three different times.  He ate way more than I expected.  It was a little messy, but this kid?  He can even make messy look cute.  See?

Oh, and look, he wants to give you a hug.  Don't you just want a big peanut-buttery hug? :)

Cookies

With Miles' incredible delight in making his own toast, I decided to try some other cooking tasks with him.  I probably should have started with snack mix or something, but silly me, I went straight for the cookies.

Monday morning, during Miles' first nap, I got out all of the ingredients, and set them out on the table with a bowl.  After lunch, we set to work.  I would measure out the ingredients, and Miles would dump them in to the bowl.  Then, I would measure the next ingredient, while Miles "stirred" the contents of the bowl with a big plastic spoon (this usually meant beating at its surface, but whatever).  When everything was in the bowl, we put the bowl into the stand mixer, and turned it on.  He watched it carefully, but didn't touch.  Eventually, we put it in the refrigerator to set.

Tuesday afternoon we set to cutting the dough into stars.  I would place the cookie cutter, and Miles would push it down.  He would do three or four, then get down and go play for awhile.  At the end of the day, we were rewarded with a full cookie jar. Mmmmm.

Toast!

My son is a genius.

No, really, I have proof this time.

Yesterday morning, when we came downstairs, I asked if he wanted some breakfast.  He made a funny noise that started and ended with T, and had a raspberry in the middle, somehow.  Luckily, I am well-trained in Toddlerese, and I know that this translates to, "Toast".

As I was getting the bread, Miles was busy climbing onto a chair that I had pushed into the corner of the kitchen - conveniently enough, directly in front of our toaster oven.  He pulled the toaster oven toward him, and opened the door.  I gave him a piece of bread, and he laid it gently in the center of the rack, closed the toaster, and tried to turn the knob.  Unfortunately, it's a little awkward, so he couldn't quite manage.  Ever the genius, however, he simply looked at me and signed, "help, please" and pointed at it.  I turned the knob, and he watched as the heating element grew more and more orange, and said, "Ha!" (Translation: "Hot!")

In an effort to distract him from trying to open the toaster oven door too soon, I asked if he wanted milk.  My distraction worked, and he held the lid to his cup and the milk carton while I poured, then placed each lid on its proper container.  By the time I had put the milk away, the toaster dinged.  Miles pointed, then jerked his hand back and said, "Ha! Osh!" [Translation: "Hot! Ouch!" - the exact words I use when warning him away from the stove while I'm cooking.]

I pulled the 'ha' toast out and put it on a plate, then helped Miles down from his perch.  He immediately began grunting and pointing at the plate.  "Do you want to carry it?" I asked, figuring that at worst, he'd be picking up a solid piece of toast from the un-vacuumed carpet and eating it anyway.  No big.*  (I promise,  it wasn't hot by the time I handed it to him.  I'm not that Bad of a Mommy).

Surprisingly, he carried the toast-laden plate all the way to the table without spilling it.  He sat it down, held the toast triumphantly over his head, and then savagely tore into it, with all the pride of a chef eating his first successfully produced meal.  A few short moments later, he was asking to help with seconds.  Which he also consumed with vigor.

He also had toast for lunch.  And dinner.  And he made a piece for Daddy when he got home from work.  I think toast is going to be very popular around here for the next few days. :)

*Bad mommy, remember?

Conversations

Miles has been babbling for months, but in the past couple of weeks, he's started holding conversations with people. Or in this case, a meeting.

Generally, the process goes something like this:

Miles begins with a very strong statement. Usually, "Abadugabadah" or similar.

Then, it's your turn to speak. And you'd better respond correctly. "Is that so?" or similar is acceptable. Say something along those lines, and the conversation will continue in the same manner for several minutes at a time, until Miles decides he's done.

However, respond incorrectly (i.e. "No! That can't be!) and brace yourself. Because Miles will bang his palms on the table, shake his head, and emphatically repeat what he had just said.

And as you can see from the photo above, it's all very serious business.

:P

Miles has discovered a fun new toy.

What's more, he's discovered that everyone has one.

He loves to crawl up in my lap and stick his tongue out at me. Of course, that's my cue to stick my tongue back out at him. We go back and forth, sticking out our tongues at one another until, finally, I decide to mess with my kid.

So, I roll my tongue. And he just stares. And tries to copy it.

And for twenty minutes, we laugh like idiots over our wonderful tongues. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Lounge Lizard

I know I promised pictures of the new place, and they are coming, just as soon as I have a moment to sort through them and find the good ones. :)

Meanwhile, I thought I'd share Miles' latest trick: lounging. I don't know why I find it so cute that he has bad posture, but there's something about the exasperated way he throws himself back until he is relaxed against whatever happens to be behind him. Whether it's a recliner:


Or just the back bar of the high chair at the Subway:


I think it's positively adorable. I love how he's becoming a little person. A person who gives hugs and kisses. A person who chatters at people on the phone. A person who lounges.

I fully expect to look back at this post in fifteen years and wonder exactly why I found this so adorable. By then, I will probably be incredibly exasperated by Miles' inability to sit up straight.

But for now, I will continue snapping pictures of him in all of his reclined glory. :)

Milestone Achieved!

Miles gets closer to walking every day! Today, he took 5 steps in a row to get to one of his toys! And he took several other sets of steps throughout the evening. Apparently, he is gaining courage in this new endeavor. I'm half excited and half frightened at the prospects this raises.

As always, however, there is another milestone that he has mastered in the meantime. Climbing.

The other day, I caught Miles climbing into his stroller. And, being the Bad Mommy that I am, I did not stop him. Instead, I grabbed the camera.

Climbing into the stroller.

Success!

Climbing back down.

As you can see, he is a very skilled climber already. He now climbs strollers, couches, rocking chairs, and yes, even tables. Lock up your valuables, because now, nothing is safe. :)

My Life in a Nutshell

Work. Festival is getting crazier by the minute. I'm being paid now, which means more days at the office, and fewer spent at home in relative relaxation. And our Cinderella Ball is happening this week. And Academy is the week after that. And then Gypsy Revel, Media Party, Site Day, and our Festival opening. Pretty much one after the other.

Oh, and I'll turn 27 sometime in there.

Life. It's also getting a little nuts. First, there was the mold in the ceiling. In the baby's room. And dealing with the apartment office being absolutely not pleasant about it. Then, there's the kerfuffle of dealing with a doctor's appointment that they called to confirm five times. When they left a sixth message on our answering machine, we assumed it was more of the same. We showed up only to be told that the last message was actually informing us that they had cancelled the appointment. It's really not much more than a silly inconvenience, but life seems to be riddled with them lately.

Lilo. I don't know how else to say this, but she has to move to a new home. She growled at the baby. A couple of times. We've tried training, but she's only gotten more cranky as Miles gets bigger and more mobile. So, we are in the process of acclimating her to a new home, with older, calmer children. I feel like I'm abandoning a pet that has stood by me for years, but honestly, I could never forgive myself if she bit Miles, especially since I know now that that's a possibility. I was so hoping they would be best friends. To see her avoid him, and to see him shy away from her, breaks my heart in so many, many ways. I will probably write more about this, as I am really having a hard time with it.

Grandma. Wednesday afternoon, I received a call from my mother. Grandma's Hospice nurse had just left, and had told Mom to "gather the family". He anticipated that Grandma would be gone within 48 hours. We left three hours later, and have spent the last five days with Grandma. For the most part, she's fairly out of it, but for a few brief moments on Friday, she was entirely coherent, and understood entirely what was happening. She asked to see Miles, and when he came in, he laid his head against her, and babbled quietly at her for several minutes, as she smiled at him and patted his back. By Saturday morning, though, she was sleeping, and has not yet woken completely since then. We came back home today, because we had to, but we are painfully aware that she could go at any moment. I don't know what else there is to say about that.

Miles. Through all of this, he is, as always, our light and our joy. He lifts our spirits when nothing else can. He knows how to throw us all into fits of giggles by doing nothing more than showing us a cheesy grin. He knows how to melt our hearts by cuddling with a dying woman he barely knows, giving her more comfort than any of us know how to. He knows how to make us smile when we want to cry, and how to make us celebrate the little things.

Like taking his first steps. Tonight, only moments after we returned home. He stood up to show off for Daddy, then took one faltering step toward him, and then another, and a third. I'm sure he would have taken even more steps, but I couldn't contain my excitement, and I let go a squeal that scared him into sitting down. I have never been more proud of anyone in my life. He is truly an amazing boy. And I am so happy that I get to call him mine.

Fixing the Toys

Miles often amuses me greatly as he plays. One of the things I find most amusing is this:

Whenever he gets a toy he likes, one of the first things he does is turn it upside down. And bang on it with whatever is handy. In this particular case, he had just finished beating it with the blue ring in the bottom corner of the picture. Those rings are a favorite tool. Because that's the only thing I can imagine that he could be doing - fixing the toys.

I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But you haven't seen how methodical this kid is. He very carefully turns the toy over, observing any changes in how it behaves. Then, he sits back on his knees and watches it as though it might spontaneously jump back over to upright. When it doesn't, he will crawl away, and find a tool. Any sufficiently solid toy will do, so long as he can comfortably hold it in one hand. Then, the real work begins. He taps on the bottom of the toy, tentatively at first, then harder until it resounds with a certain quality of "Thwang!"

Then, he places the tool on the floor beside him, and carefully turns the toy back over. He'll press a few buttons, and before long, he's playing with the toy as it was intended to be played with. I have seen him do this with this car toy, a toy xylophone-gator, his new keyboard, and his pop-up animal toy (more about that one later this week). I have watched him, and the only conclusion I can come to is that he is fixing the toys.

Because, you know, apparently they were broken when I bought them. :)

Sign Language

I was talking to someone on the internet the other day about baby sign language. She said she would never teach her kids to sign, because she found it "annoying".

I couldn't respond. For one thing, I'm not sure how communicating with your child could be considered annoying. Besides, after years working with special needs students, it seemed natural to me to sign. So, when Miles was still incredibly small - less than two months old - Patrick and I began signing "milk" to him every time we gave him a bottle.

At six months old, he was consistently telling us when he wanted "milk". And if we signed it back to him before preparing the bottle, he was far calmer than when we forgot. It was obvious to us that this communication was essential for him. Frustration and tears diminished immensely on both sides.

With the success of "milk", we began adding signs. Now, at less than nine months old, Miles tells us when his diaper needs changing ("potty"), when he wants a "cookie", and "more" (though he's less consistent on that one). And, he recognizes "drink", "food", and "play".

Then, this week, he made the next cognitive leap. He wanted something he didn't have a sign for. So, he signed at me, waving his hand crazily over his head and saying "ahhh!" I told him I didn't know what that meant. He crawled over to the stereo cabinet, pulled himself up on it, and banged on the door. "Music?" I asked. He grinned and sat down, waving his hand over his head again. I turned on the music and he danced for almost fifteen minutes straight. That night, I asked Bethany for the sign for music. Then, every time he would make his crazy sign over his head, I used the sign and said, "Music?"

This morning, he signed "music" to me, clearly and earnestly.

I've read several studies, all of which conclude that babies who can communicate through sign language before they speak tend to learn to talk earlier and more clearly, and with a larger vocabulary. Plus, they tend to score higher on intelligence tests, have higher self-confidence, and are more sophisticated in their play than babies who don't sign.

I don't know about the rest, yet, but Miles has already started to talk. He clearly says, "Hi!" when people walk in. He also says, "Dada", "Mama" (when he's not being ornery), "Dg" (dog), "kitty", "hey!", and Stacey swears he calls her "Tay". (I haven't heard it yet, though it wouldn't surprise me in the least). He's beginning to learn that things have names and he will often bring me toys or stuffed animals and look at me as if asking for the word. When I know the sign, I give him both the sign and the spoken word. Otherwise, I just give him the spoken word. More and more, he tries to repeat what I've said.

And this whole process has taught me two things:

1) That poor lady who finds it 'annoying' is losing out on so much.

2) I need to learn more sign language!

Independent Play

The best thing about Miles learning to crawl? He's suddenly discovered that whole "independent play" idea.

Now that he's mobile and can pull up on any piece of furniture that's the right height, he zooms around the apartment, stopping here and there to play with a toy, or pull on the curtains. Or cruise furniture at a rapid speed.

He still likes playing with Mommy (and Daddy), but he's totally content to play all by himself for up to a half hour at a time, squealing with delight at each new discovery.

I thought this newfound freedom would allow me to get more done around the house. I mean, if he's playing, I can go do the dishes or a load of laundry, right?

Wrong.

Because leaving the room for even a second is like handing him an invitation to find the one thing he's not supposed to have and eat it. Or throw it on the floor and stomp on it. Or crush it between his little fingers. Destruction follows this kid like a shadow,* only closer.

The other day, I was picking his toys up off of the floor and looked up. He had pulled himself up on a table and was busily pulling all of his baptism announcements off onto the floor. Where he was delighting in stepping all over them, repeatedly.** I quickly abandoned the riot of toys on the floor, and ran over to pick up the announcements before they were completely destroyed. I got them all picked up and smoothed out and put out of reach, only to turn around to see him holding half of a coupon. Upon closer inspection, he was busily chewing on the other half. So I scooped it out of his mouth and ran it to the trash can. I came back to see him flinging all of the toys I had just put away all over the floor.

Sigh.

I guess the reality is, I am getting a lot more done in a day. But Miles is creating most of the work. :)

*I guess everyone needs a hobby. :)

**Yes, those are coming. I promise.