Miles and Macey: The Multimedia Experience

Miles graciously agreed to help recreate the following story that occurred this morning:

Miles woke Brett up at 7:00 explaining that Dad needed to come play cars with him so that he wouldn't watch cartoons, because that would make him "not smart." Brett couldn't refuse a well-reasoned argument like that, so he got up to play.

Before long, the Matchbox cars were involved in a nasty 3-car pile-up. Miles commented that it reminded him of the crash on Speed Racer. Brett said, "Wow, that sounds crazy."

Miles said, "No. That's not crazy. That's horrible. This is crazy:


Then he points soberingly at the car crash. "That's horrible."

In Which I Let You Know

Some time ago, loyal reader, I made the claim that Macey was the sweetest little thing, so affectionate, greatest baby ever, etc. I also promised that, should that ever change, I would let you know.

I'm officially letting you know.

Macey finds no greater pleasure in life than doing precisely the opposite of what she thinks you want. Her happy little personality remains consistent; the change has come in the content of what it is that informs her happiness.

An example: A couple of days ago I was cleaning the kitchen while Macey ate dinner at her high chair. She finished before I did, and wanted to be released to go wreak havoc on the utensils in the dishwasher. I, being of the persuasion that she shouldn't play with knives, let her wait while I finished the dishes.

So she poked herself in the eye. I saw her do it and shrieked, "Macey! Don't touch your eyes!" She grinned her wicked little grin and and opened her eyes as wide as possible, jamming each finger with great precision into them as long as she could stand it without blinking.

Every time I saw her do it, I shrieked and told her to stop. She laughed big belly laughs and just tried harder to stare me down past the fingers in her eyes. Fortunately, I'm still smarter - at least for now. I told her to keep her fingers out of her mouth instead, so she started chewing on them while I feigned dismay.

I'm going to go ahead and make the prediction now that she's going to make me wear out the phrase, "I told you this is what would happen."

An Interesting New Discovery

Miles, from the backseat of the car one evening: "I have to poop, I have to poop!" Surprised pause. "Oh. It's okay. I squeezed it back in."

Too Smart For Me

Every parent, at one time or another, has cursed their child with, "I hope you have a kid just like you someday." I'm not actually certain whether my mother did this to me or not, but if so: Mom, please just go ahead and say, "Tara, I hope you win a $50 million lottery someday."

Miles likes to debate. He likes to point out incorrect reasoning when he sees it. His logic, for a three year old, is impeccable. He's never wrong.

A few days ago, I was starting up the car to back out of the driveway. Miles and Macey were already strapped into their car seats and ready to go. Miles, who has a bad habit of making requests just as we're getting ready to leave, demands, "Mommyyyyyyyyy, I want you to go get me some JOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOCE!!!"

I mustered all my parental wisdom and replied calmly, "Miles, I will not get you juice because you were whining." He sighed in exasperation. "But Mommy, a minute ago I was not whining and you were not getting me juice then either!"

The Rise and Fall of Ducky and Spinny

A few weeks ago, Brett and I tried to purchase a new lawn mower and came home with a baby chicken.

Macey was thrilled. ("Oh!! OH!!! Oh oh oh oh oh oh!!!!) Miles immediately named it "Ducky" but shortly thereafter amended that to "Ducky and Spinny" because both names were made that much cooler by not having to choose between them.

Ducky and Spinny lived in a box in our laundry room while he was small and cute, but was banished to our outdoor pantry as he (she?) became increasingly mobile. Even so, we played with him almost every day and Miles liked chasing him around the yard while Macey preferred pointing and grunting.

Last Thursday, we forgot to put Ducky and Spinny back into his closet for the night. The next morning Miles came running inside with a handful of telltale feathers, shouting, "Ducky and Spinny is gone!!! I can't find him anywhere! He's gone!!" Oops.

We will probably never be certain what happened to Ducky and Spinny, but that means that we also technically can't rule out the possibility that he did, in fact, go to find his chicken friends, as we told Miles. At any rate, don't worry about Miles, dear reader; he didn't remain concerned about Ducky and Spinny for long. A couple of days later, Mamaw and Papaw got an 8-week old Beagle puppy named Patches. Last night I caught Miles setting tiny little Patches on top of a hill and pushing him over... When I saw this I shouted, "Stop!! Miles, why are you doing that?" He looked up at me, slightly offended, and said, "I was just teaching him how to roll over!"

Ducky and Spinny might be better off with his chicken friends...

Children Are Disgusting

Yesterday, about fifteen minutes after dinner, Macey sneezed. A piece of broccoli flew out of her mouth. "Uh-oh," she noted casually, as she picked it back up and ate it.