Dear Miles,

I would like to start this post off with an apology.  You have had quite a few spills and bumps over the course of your life and it happens so often that many times, I typically just shrug it off as another occurrence.  I will be the first to admit that I need to work on my nurturing skills.  I want to apologize to you from the bottom of my heart, how painful it can be to fall and perhaps there have been moments in the past I should have been more sympathetic to your situation.  I can attest to this because I took a lovely spill a few days back that has left me partially black and blue with the inability to sleep on my left side.  You see, I was trying to demonstrate to you and Olivia my awesomely wicked skills on the scooter – you know, the one where you extend one leg straight out behind you as you gracefully glide in figure eights in the street.  I was in the zone – yelling to the two of you to look at me.  Look at what your amazing Mother can do.  That’s when I looked up to see our new, very conservative neighbor walking towards me.  In that moment, I tried to compose myself and become the responsible adult I should be and instead ended up eating the pavement when my scooter decided to do a woohoo thing.  You will one day come to the realization that most embarrassing situations will happen to you in public. 

I did a wonderful tuck and roll move which resulted in this left body pain I’m still experiencing three days later.  What is crazy is the neighbor continued to walk in my direction and did not inquire as to my well-being but instead went off on some tirade about a fox or fox-like dog roaming the neighborhood.  I haven’t even had a chance to scan my body to make sure I’m not a bloody mess and this guy is going on and on about something that may or may not have been walking around our street.  Dude, I may have just broke my hip and tore a hole in my favorite jacket – go inquire elsewhere about this fox-dog you saw!  I can’t help but think of you and Olivia with each little pain I feel from this injury.  Have I been so removed from physical carefree activities that I forget what it’s like to be an energetic vivacious person?  Does this mean that I’m a true adult now?  I guess it’s too late to say, I don’t want to grow up.  Cue mid-life crisis.

I extend my apology to you as well in terms of not staying on top of my letters to you.  As of late, I’ve been in somewhat of a funk.  I’ve been a little lazy and a little uninspired.  It happens and I can guarantee you will experience this on more than one occasion.  The true skill is not only getting out of the fog but emerging with a newfound gusto – a take-charge attitude.  I thought I was coming out of the fog when I organized the linen closet only to discover that I was still unmotivated to do anything else.  Let’s just say, sometimes it takes a few tries to find your gusto.

About a month ago, we returned from our trip to Cape Cod.  This was the first flight that you had your own seat which means that we could occupy an entire row without worrying about what kind of stranger we would be temporarily buddying up with.  You did so amazingly well on the plane that you were allowed to pick out one toy from the store upon our arrival in Boston.  You picked out a Lightening McQueen car that proceeded to follow us everywhere on our trip including the wedding.  You really did pretty good overall on the trip with the exceptions of the mishap that involved you spilling an entire bucket of wet sand on to the floor of the rehearsal dinner and your ongoing aversion to water.  There was also that weird awkward moment during the rehearsal dinner when you couldn’t find me and decided to inquire as to my whereabouts in a rather loud manner while speeches were being made.  I’m going to give you a pass this go around because you looked so dang cute in your bow tie.  Your aversion to water was clearly a problem on this trip.  Obviously, we’re on Cape Cod – we’re going to be on the beach.  Chances are, you’re going to have to get your feet wet.  You were not at all thrilled and instead spent a great deal of time sulking on the shore or being carried by Dad.  You eventually would warm up to the water around the same time we would be thinking about packing it up.  It was so wonderful to see you playing with your cousin Jack that I couldn’t help but feeling bad that you don’t have a brother to do “boy stuff” with.  Perhaps it’s the same pain I feel for Olivia not having a sister.  I don’t understand the brother sister dynamic because I don’t have a brother but maybe there is something special there that I will never understand.  Anyways, I digress, it was a wonderful trip – the kind you envision when you dream about traveling with your family.

Olivia and I just returned from our annual trip to Nanette’s cabin and this marks the first time that I did not bring you because the last trip with the two of you was less than successful.  If you need help remembering, you can find that story here.  While Olivia and I were away, you got to spend three and a half days with your Dad and after hearing all the stories, it sounds like you two had a great boys bonding time complete with flirting, greasy foods, movies and more flirting.  I cannot begin to tell you how happy your Dad is that you’re not shy around the ladies.  I’ll admit that I felt guilty as hell for not bringing you with us after seeing you have a full meltdown in the driveway complete with head in the hands crying.  I’m supposed to be the Mom that can stand up to any situation but the mere thought of sharing another cabin trip with just the two of you was too much to muster.  I promise you can come the next time although, you may not want to if it means dining at the Ale House every night while being told how adorable you are by scantily clad women. 

During our time away, you achieved a rather large milestone by graduating to a big boy bed.  It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t there that day because your Dad had to wheel the crib out of your room.  This marks the first time since I bought it in 2008 in preparation of your sister’s arrival, that it has not been used.  It’s a punch-to-the-gut realization that my babies are growing up way too fast.  I begged your Father not to donate it so it currently resides in the guest room where I occasionally stare at it fondly when you two are screaming at each other in the other room. 

The summer is quickly winding down and very soon your sister will be returning to school.  You should be starting preschool this year but I have decided that given your speech delay, to wait a little bit longer to give you a better start.  Perhaps it’s me being overprotective or perhaps it’s just me not wanting to let you go yet.  Do you see how difficult it is for me to remove the crib?  Can you imagine what is going to happen the day you move out?  I will advise you now that I should be heavily sedated or out of the country that day so plan accordingly.

Love,

Momma

We may or may not having been taking out some frustration on you