Alternate Title: Now you know what kind of mom I am.
First. Miles and Lucas get along pretty decently. Truthfully, Miles doesn't have that much interest in Lucas, despite Lucas's attempts at making himself seen. What with the crawling and the maiming of innocent bystanders. Miles does enjoy the occasional hug and playing with his baby brother for about 4 seconds. I'm guessing as time goes on, they'll become more keen on each other. Here's hoping, because I'm certainly not interested in entertaining Lucas for the next 17.5 years.
The other morning, they were being all sweet with each other, and Miles even insisted I "take a picher." I am easily coerced. And a sweet little photo opportunity quickly melted down into this:
Next. I've been trying to get Lucas to take a sippy cup with water in it. We're not really being all that successful unless you consider soaked shirts success, which I do not. So, in an effort to literally sweeten the deal, I added some apple juice. Then I forgot I'd done that and threw the sippy cup in my purse. For about 4 days. Today, we were walking off some energy at my favorite rendezvous, Target, and he started getting fussy. So, I whipped out the sippy. He immediately started gagging and coughing. And I dared get frustrated with him, "Dude! You're going to have to learn this sippy thing sometime!" And then caught a whiff of his breath. I just fed my son Apple Beer. It was, perhaps, the nastiest smelling thing ever.
Yes, I'm that kind of parent. Call me Britney?