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.

Miles' Prayer Tonight

"Dear Jesus, Thank you for God and for saving us. And.... thank you for everybody. I love them all. And please keep the monsters from getting us."

It's All Semantics

We were driving late one night and Brett said to me, "Looks like Miles is asleep." Miles immediately popped his eyes open and said, "No, I'm not sleeping. I'm just saving my eyes for later."

What Daddy Does At Work

Monday morning we were getting ready to leave for work/daycare, and Miles kept giving me these really weird looks (mouth pursed; eyebrows furrowed, one up one down; eyes squinty; don't ask me how he pulled all that off, but he did). I asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I'm Daddy." I said, "Hi, Daddy, what are you doing today?" He said, "I'm going to work." I asked him what he does at work, and he answered, "I go to church and play games and don't bring them home with me."

Yes We Can

Okay, so this isn't STRICTLY Miles and Macey related, but it's historic, it's a part of what was going on in their childhood, and --most importantly-- this is my only tiny little public medium. So here it is:

Miles Discovers Something You Probably Didn't Know

Miles ran into the bathroom this morning with a fascinating observation:

"Hey Mom!! When... when... when... when... [thoughtful pause]... When you brush your teeth, and then you drink some juice, a lot of juice, it tastes like yuck."

And Now For Something Completely Different

I've been posting about Miles a lot (okay, not a LOT, but every chance I get), but some of my loyal readers (okay, both of them) may have noticed that I rarely mention Macey. I'm going to correct that now.

Macey persists in being the perfect baby. She hardly ever cries or fusses, she's adorably affectionate, and she's got the sweetest little personality. She's been perfecting her crawling skills for the past month, and she can get wherever she wants to go, which usually means looking for stray pieces of "food" on the ground. She has recently started pulling herself up to standing, and loves "walking" with just a little help from Mom.

She likes performing all her tricks (clicking her tongue, singing, waving "bye-bye", or just sitting there looking cute) and looks at everyone in the room in turn to see if we've noticed. If we've noticed, we're supposed to say "Yay Macey!", and if we fail to comment, she grins gummily at us until we do.

So, in a nutshell: Greatest baby in the world. If that changes, I'll be sure to let you know. :)

Miles's Personal Bubble Part II

We were playing pirates the other night and I just thought he was so cute that I had to reach down and give him a quick hug and kiss. It's not like I disrupted his playing at all, but--not looking up from his action figures for even a minute--he said calmly, "That's too much, Mom. That's too much hugging now."

Little stinker.

In Which Miles Intends To Prove Me Wrong

I was preparing Miles for the idea of going to bed (a concept saturated from beginning to end with bargaining and scheming, on both parts). He started in with his typical protest about monsters ("mon-thterds") coming out of his closet. I told him he didn't need to worry because there are no monsters in Mommy's house. He said, "Mommy, there ARE mon-threrds. I need to take my camera to sleep with me, 'cause I will show you."

Tough Guy

We were Christmas shopping, and a little boy (about four years old) was in a nearby shopping cart with his grandma. The boy must've said something like, "Look at that little kid," because before I could stop him, Miles hit the ground running and was over at his cart. Here's the conversation that ensued:

Miles: "I'm not a little kid - I'm a big kid! You're a little kid! You're a little kiddy-kid!!"

Other Boy (perplexed): "What's your name?"

Miles (chin as high as he can hold it [i.e., about three feet off the ground]): "Miles Smif."

Other Boy: "How old are you?"

Miles: "Nufin."