2014

2014

Monday, March 09, 2009

Happy Birthday Miles


Dearest Miles,

Today you turn 5. Wow. 5 is huge because you are now of the age where you can go to school. Luckily we have another 6 months until that will happen, though. We've been talking about 5 and school for probably 1/2 of a year now. You being my first child I have never experienced this before - I think it will be a love-hate experience for me. But only time will tell. Yesterday, during sacrament meeting, you randomly said to me, "I don't know what I'll take for lunch at school." Perhaps not so randomly, though? You were probably thinking about turning 5, starting school, and food.

Of course food. You are always hungry. You always want food. And you're such a good eater. You currently are in love with sardines. Yes, sardines. They are your favorite. You told me that for next Christmas you only want 1 present in your stocking and then the rest of it filled with sardines. Your dad is having to stop off at the grocery store on his way home today to pick you up some sardines. You usually eat as much/more than me. Once this past year when we had tacos, you ate 5 of them. Because I told you 6 was too much. But you are so dang active - both mentally and physically - that the food just gets used up immediately in your sweet little body.

You are realizing the pressures of being The Oldest. Of being The Example to your siblings. You understand it now. You do something (like eat your food with no hands because you are a parrot) and Emmy starts copying you. You start going down the stairs on your tummy head-first and Emmy wants to do it, too. Jonas wants to do mommy 'n me school like you. Jonas colors a lot like you - and is way better than you were at his age. I don't say this because I think Jonas is naturally better at coloring than you. But he watches you. He sees you color in the lines and so that is what he does. I'm glad you are The Oldest.

Your imagination is still as wild and crazy as ever. You are hardly ever just Miles. Lately you've been a parrot. You wear your colorful elf-socks so you can be colorful like a parrot. The other day you had an "antique store" with "old chairs," "old pillows," "old blankets," etc. Your dad and I had to come buy the items, check them out over your bed, then pay for them (then put them away where they really belonged).

You love, love, love riding a tricycle (and hopefully you'll love riding your new bike you get today). You and Jonas just ride and ride in our front yard, on the sidwalk. But, being the task-minded boy that you are, you aren't just riding for fun. You have to be doing something, too. So you usually end up attaching something to your trike and pull it along. Like the wagon. Typically you'll get some rope, attach it to the wagon, then your trike, and pull all sorts of items in the wagon - up and down the sidewalk. It's pretty dang cute.

Your mind is as active as ever. We are starting to "read" a litle bit. The first time we look at a story, you try to look only at the picture and "read" it by describing the picture. I remind you to look at the words and then you do very well. By the 2nd or 3rd time reading these short little stories, you are no longer reading but instead have memorized it all. In fact, you memorized the entire library book of "Hush Little Dragon" and read it to me, your dad, and even Grandpa G. It was impressive.

You have not stopped asking questions. Some I can answer. Most I cannot. Like the question you asked me the other day. You were asking who were the first people on the earth. I did know that one. Then you were making the comments of Heavenly Father and Jesus creating everything and everybody. Then you said something along the lines of, "Well who created Heavenly Father?" I don't know and I told you that. But I'm sure you'll come up with an answer soon enough.

You drive me crazy on a daily basis. Crazy in love and madly crazy, too. You do and say the sweetest things. Then you turn around and do the most unthoughtful things, too. I want to cut your ears off since you hardly use them. Sometimes I want to cut your mouth off because you use it too much. But mostly I just want to hug you and squeeze you.

Because I love you.

Love,

mom