Dear Miles - lately known as "Stinker, Turkey, or Trouble",
I'm writing you this letter because I want to document what a big boy you have become in the last ten months. That's right, exactly 10 months ago today we were walking off the plane with a sweet, sleepy, quiet, shy little boy. That day 10 months ago I thought I had been blessed with a well-behaved and timid little boy. Boy was I wrong. Instead, I was blessed with something even better.
Hence your most recent nickname "Little Stinker." It's the only thing your father and I can think to call you when you are going about your little shenanigans. Hopefully by the time you read this you are no longer testing all of the limits, but are still as witty as you are today. Everyone knows that I never expected a genius baby (although you're pretty darn close), and I've never thought that my children would be perfect. However, my close friends know that I did always want a witty and clever child....and boy is that you to a "T". Every single day you make me laugh and most of the time it is when I shouldn't be laughing at all and should instead be disciplining you.
Some of the things you do that are funny, but are not really supposed to be....
**You grab Liam's pacifier from where ever I have set it temporarily, put it in your mouth, look at me, suck vigorously, and then back away slowly.....until I start to get up, and then it is a full-out run across the room (and if you're lucky, up the stairs, across another room, through the doorway, and then around the bed.)
**Lately you've been waiting patiently in our room next to the laptop. As far as I know you are just sitting there patiently looking at the screen. However, the minute I walk in you are banging on the keyboard (you look an aweful lot like your father at this point), moving the screen up and down, plugging the charger in and then unplugging it, and pushing it off of the footstool. All this happens within a matter of about 5 seconds. (Did I mention you are a quick little stinker?)
**Yesterday I was in the bathroom and I heard you outside the door playing with the doorknob. When I opened it to see what you were doing you quickly put both hands behind your back and looked up at me with the funniest expression and said clear as day "key". It was like you were tattling on yourself. I had to turn around to hide my smile. Apparently you had taken your dad's keys out of the bowl (where you know you aren't supposed to go) and were trying to unlock the door.
**Today the babysitter said that you got into your dad's deodorant AGAIN. Apparently you brought it downstairs looked at her and took the cap off. When she said, "Miles, don't lick it..." you licked it as vigorously as you could (which in itself is pretty disgusting) and then threw it down the stairs.
**You are constantly trying to microwave everything - from your matchbox cars to "Bear." One of these days I'm not going to catch you in time. (Note to self: What idiot thought putting the microwave below the counter was a good idea? Oh yeah, me.)
It seems like you are constantly just trying to test us and see if the rules still apply. The problem is that you are just so funny when you're doing it that you're making it really hard for us to get upset with you. You've always got this funny little smile that you give us like it is a big game. The problem is that it is contagious and we can't help but think it's pretty funny. If you could do me a favor and stop being so irresistible, that would really help me out in my quest for "ultimate mommy" status. Thanks.
However, there are many many instances throughout the day when you are cute and are not testing the limits. For example, you are such a good big brother. You always have to make sure to give Liam a hug and kiss before you go to bed. Sometimes that is even more important than giving one to Cooper, which is pretty shocking. You also want to push him in the swing and always make sure that the appropriate music is playing for his listening pleasure (although not necessarily for your parents'). Tonight I caught you playing "peek-a-boo with Liam and his little bear blanket. It almost made me cry, (Okay, mom, you're so pathetic.)
Then there is the way that you are so observant and mimic the adults around you. You always put on people's shoes whenever they come to visit. Also, you love to try and tie shoes that are untied....it really looks like you are doing it, and one of these days I'm going to look over and you're going to have something looped and double knotted. Yesterday at dinner I took a bite of shredded cheese - by throwing my head back and shoving it in my mouth. (It was both elegant and graceful :)) I only realized how silly I looked when I gave you some cheese and you ate it the exact same way. Your dad thought that was pretty funny.
So Miles, the purpose of this long-winded and never ending letter is to let you know what a joy you've made our lives. Everyday you wake up a little bigger, a little more independent, and a little funnier. You have enriched our lives so much, that I can't remember what it was like a year ago without you in it......it must have been pretty darn boring.
Love you forever,