Everyone Needs Someone

Milo: We always have fun together.

Me: Of course we always have fun together. You're my kid.

Milo: I'm your kid?

Me: Yes.

Milo: And you're my grownup.

Housekeeping: June '09

Dear Kids,
The last few months have been rough going for us all, I think, between Mira's diagnosis, the economy, and the general chaos of living in a house with two small children, but I feel we're coming out of it now and settling down into the new normal.

Mira, I don't want to turn this blog into a diary of your condition, as you're so much more than that, but I should at least note that this month you were evaluated by the Early Intervention people. Our taxpayer dollars at work. We cleaned the house before they came because when people from the state come over to evaluate your children you really can't help but escape the nagging feeling that they are also evaluating you and your parenting and your housekeeping and writing down little notes like, "Unidentifiable object moldering in corner of living room." But the good news is that Mira, you are right on target developmentally with everything, and you're even able to track objects now, although it is still tougher on you than it would be on a kid with normal vision. You're a lot different than Milo was at this age: quieter, more into tummy time, easier to make laugh, less drooly.

This month you found your feet, and you like to do that classic baby pose where you grab your toes and rock back and forth -- rolling over seems to be pretty close for you. Your single defining characteristic at fourth months of age, though, is your need to have something in your mouth constantly at all times. You have been known to suck on your hands, toys, shirts, other people's hands, arms -- pretty much anything within your mouth's reach you will attempt to latch on to.

Case in point. We put you in the Bumbo chair this week and after surveying the options...


... you quickly located the closest thing to attach your mouth to:


At first we thought you'd fallen over, but no, you'd just found something new and different to suck on.

It is also worth noting that you are a stunning baby:


Now, Milo. You haven't been the easiest this month. One problem has been your insistence that you be the boss of everything. Four thousand times a day we hear you ask, "When will I be the boss? Am I the boss of Malcolm? I want to be 37 so I can be the boss." Sometimes I just wish you could enjoy being a kid more instead of always thinking about what you're going to do when you're an adult. Not that I can't related -- I'm pretty sure that's how I spent most of my childhood too.



You are always full of questions, and always trying to figure out how things work. Today I took you into a pet shop and we saw a little aquarium that had one of those plastic fish with a moth that opens and closes and little bubbles come out. You watched it for a moment and then said, "I think there is a little tube in there and water comes out of it and it makes the mouth open and the bubbles comes out." I took you and hugged you and said, "I think you're right."

Your funny mispronunciations are fewer and farther between, but when they occur they are funnier than ever. After your first day at your new school you announced you had a friend named Crisp.
"Chris, maybe?" I asked.
"No, I think it's Crisp," you said. I assured you that it was not.

And your new words are bigger and more abstract. You've started trying to work the word "realize" into more sentences. The other day I heard you mumbling, "Just forget it," to yourself. Then when I picked you up at school your teacher said to me, "How does he know the number 90?" Turned out you'd read it off the side of a matchbox car. "He likes numbers," was what I said to the teacher. I didn't tell her you also figured out how to write your name, my name, and dad's name, that you can read a little when forced to, and that you can tell at a glance how many dots are on a domino. You keep us on our toes, little chicken.

I love you both,
Mama

Mira Laughing

Milo is desperate to be the boss of someone. We've told him maybe he can be the boss of Mira, so he tried it out and she laughed at him:


Also, "Oh pickle face" is apparently a laugh riot:

Buzz Lightyear and His Sister

Working on a monthly update. In the mean time, here are some new pics:

When I Grow Up I'm Going To Be An Old Woman

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Milo: What do I want to be?

Me: Like, you have to do something when you're an adult. Like you could drive a train or fly an airplane or be a doctor. What do you want to do?

Milo: When I'm a adult I'm going to use very sharp scissors.

...and later ...

Milo: When I'm a adult I'm going to say to myself, "I want some peanut butter and then I'm going to just go and get myself some peanut butter."