Dear Miles,
The other morning while putting your jacket on, I made the horrific discovery of scratch marks on the back of your neck. I pulled your shirt down slightly to see that the horrible scratches continued down further and there was even some dried blood. Obviously I didn’t witness the event that took place but I had a fairly strong suspicion who the culprit was. I’m fairly certain Freddy Krueger doesn’t exist so that only leaves your adorable innocent sister. I did notice Olivia’s reaction when I first noticed the scratches and she turned quiet awfully fast. When I asked her what happened, she told me it was an accident and she was trying to sleep. I interpret this as she was trying to sleep and you were being loud so she climbed out of bed and attempted to decapitate you, accidentally of course. Unfortunately, the attacks are happening a lot more and are becoming a little more violent. I’m at the point where I can’t leave you alone with Liv because the second I step away, she either takes something away from you, pushes, hits or scratches. To be honest with you, I didn’t experience life with a sibling like most people did. Your Aunts are much older than me and I pretty much had an only-child upbringing. When I mentioned my concern to your Dad, he was concerned but then chalked it up to basic sibling stuff. He then continued to tell me stories how him and your Uncle Tim used to duke it out and often times, bruises and marks were the aftermath. I knew siblings were tough on one another but this is not what I had in mind when I wanted kids close in age. I’m saying it now, I’m not cleaning up drawn blood from the other sibling. Going forward, you will have to settle matters with hugs and games of chess because I can’t handle siblings turning physically violent.
You have this stuffed lion that you have adored since you were an infant and lately it has been your must-have companion. He used to be a crib only companion but now you’re taking your relationship a little further and now demand this lion go everywhere with you. You toddle around clutching the lions tail as he drags behind you. It is insanely adorable and equally disgusting because the lion quickly becomes a Swiffer collecting every bit of dirt and dog hair I left behind – a constant reminder my housekeeping skills are subpar. This poor lion is taking a beating and I am sure I will have to brush up on my sewing skills because I know this tail isn’t going to make it another year. I made the poor mistake of trying to wash your beloved lion and he came out of the dryer with a new Al Sharpton look. Of course your loud mouth sister had to pick him up and ask “what happened here?!” Thankfully, your love for lion runs more than skin deep. I have actually considered buying a couple extra as backups because I sense this adorable little love story may not have a happy ending. Thankfully, your sister has a stone heart and never formed a bond with anything so I never had to go through what happens when a beloved friend is lost. When I was younger, I do remember losing key stuffed companions and it was horribly traumatic and I would much rather not put you through that. Of course, what your sister does to lion is beyond my control and I’ve seen her crazy side so good luck with that one.
We’ve had a few milestones this past month that include being able to do down a big slide all by yourself. Watching you climb a big play structure all by yourself typically involves me clutching the side of the slide with a half smile half terrified look on my face squealing ‘eeeeeee.’ Your other major milestone is your ability to give a real hug. This doesn’t seem like a tremendous feat but after giving one-sided acts of affection for sixteen months, it’s nice to have the actions reciprocated. You run to me and throw your little arms around my neck and make the sweetest little sound – a little sigh of comfort. It’s just enough to make all the screaming and crying tolerable.
You continue to follow me around the house crying and Lord help me if I can’t get dinner on the table in under five minutes. My hands constantly have a Desitin smell thanks to your constant need to crap and I swear I have poop on me somewhere that has yet to be discovered because I can smell it when you’re nowhere near the room I’m in. You have discovered the thrill of tampons and the joy of unraveling toilet paper. You continue to have crazy 80’s hair and now share an uncanny resemblance of one Kajagoogoo front man. You follow everything you do with a ‘Ta-Da” and you enjoy spotting every plane that passes in the sky. You’re a screamer, whiner and apparently an easy target for Olivia. Despite all this, I still find you so damn charming. I guess that’s hardwired in to Mothers because there is no way in hell anyone else would tolerate this crap. How long can I tolerate this? I can’t honestly say but I do know if you push your luck, I’m going to allow Olivia to sleep in your crib with you and well, we know that’s not going to end well.
Love,
Momma