Seven

 And then Miles turned 7! This doesn't seem possible. This means we've lived here in Florida for that long. Wow.
He requested donuts for breakfast, cheese sandwiches for lunch and  Lasagna for dinner. All easy requests. Make it so. (Yes, I am a Star Trek nerd sometimes.)

Miles got a new bike, some legos and a kick in the pants. Except not that last one, even though he deserves it sometimes. Happy Birthday, Buddy!

Girly Man Makes Good

Miles is an intellectual. A thinker.

Also, he's kind of a big wimp. I'm his mother, so I can say this. He's not really into sports, doesn't like getting dirty, and overall, he just doesn't care.

He is now 6.5 and every other child his age (and some MUCH younger) know how to ride a bike without training wheels. I've tried embarrassing him into wanting it, tried bribing with legos, tried forcing.  We even went so far as to take the pedals off so he could attempt to ride it like a strider bike. No dice. He really just didn't care.

Today I mentioned to Miles that it would be really fun if we could all ride bikes together over to our local Italian ice place. His face lit up. I put the pedals back on the bike, gave him a push and he was off. Just like that.



And for the record, this was the ONLY time he rode the bike without a helmet all day. From that moment on, it was firmly strapped to his head.

Once again, this kid surprises me daily.

Well, that was awkward.

Before I go into excruciating detail about our trip, I had to share my favorite thing ever. Possibly.

You've met my son, Miles, no? Miles is six and has just recently finished Kindergarten. This makes us laugh because if you know Miles, you know that he is no ordinary Kindergartner. It helps that he is one of the oldest children in his class because his birthday falls a mere 24 days after the cutoff. But in general, he's just a really cerebral child.

On the last day of school, Miles brought home his Kindergarten writing journal. These are always entertaining. So, I paged through it. I'm so glad I did. So often, when the kids come home, I just toss everything right in the trash. I have a loathing for random papers hanging around my house. At any rate, I flipped to the front of the book and was entertained by some of the year's first drawings.

 For example. This one from October of 2011 dictating his plans for Halloween. I am told by both Miles and his teacher that she does not help with spelling, grammar or punctuation in these journals. So, every apostrophe is his own.  And the drawing. Just awesome. Have I mentioned how hilarious I find it that my children always draw themselves brown? It's true. They are brown.

The next entry that had me laughing was this one:

In case you didn't know that Christmas is really about Christ. For the record, we do NOT own an ornament like the one Miles drew. But now I need to get one, apparently. 

Then we came to this entry. 

Mine too, buddy. At this point, I'm getting a little concerned that his teacher might think we're religious zealots. Don't get me wrong, we love the Savior and going to church, but we aren't coercing these entries.

I'm not sure if you can read this one completely, so here it is: "My baby sister, Libby, is the cutest person in the world. She would win first place in a cute contest! Would yours?"

Doesn't that just melt your heart?

The next entry deserves a preface. At my husband's employer they have a video game and movie lending library. You can bring home games or movies for a couple of days and if the kids have been particularly good, Matt will reward them with a video game. 

We love that he ranked his favorite games at the bottom. Apparently Indiana Jones is a no-go. 

Finally, this was the very last entry in the journal. And the one that sealed our fates as the parents of "that strange religious wacko kid."

 The tears. Running down my face. Oh mercy!

Oh Miles! We love you so much and are so proud of you! 

Toofless

And there goes another one. He lost this one on the bus, claims he almost swallowed it. 

Try not to get lost in those dreamy eyes. He's a charmer, this one.

Boys. Sheesh.

Recently, I found this lovely flyer designed by Miles.

Best Burp Contest 

Do you burp a lot? Why not go win 1st or 2nd place in the contest? Then what are you waiting for? Lets go!

I'm not sure whether to be completely disturbed... or overwhelmingly proud. Not a single misspelling. And I did NOT help him with this. 

I'm going to go with mildly troubled.

We be Piratin'

Every year I feel an intense amount of pressure to come up with handmade costumes for each of my children.

Why do I do this to myself? The answer is that I just don't know. It's totally unnecessary. And yet, every year... here we go.

 Miles decided on a pirate. That is, after I talked him out of Super Mario (because I know that at least 3 of his friends were being Super Mario... I prefer at least a teensy bit of originality... sorta.) He took his job seriously. There were a lot of "Ahoy Mateys!" and "Shiver me timbers" going around.
And Matt took his job of fashioning a Spanish-style sword very seriously.
Here's a closer shot of the hilt:

The hat was fabulously easy thanks in large part to a tutorial my sister sent.
I also made the vest and sash, but lets be honest... nothing special there. Overall, it was Miles's overacting that made this costume awesome.

 

And because, if one pirate is good, then two is great, right?

 Lucas loved it. He has been telling everyone for the last week that he's a pirate. A bad one.

But how could a pirate this cute, be bad?

Miles is 5!

Friday was the 5th birthday of my oldest son.

As some of my friends would like me to remember, it was a mildly traumatic birth in that, he was nearly born at home, the car, the parking lot of the hospital and finally, the elevator. My labor was a mere hour and a half (which I went on to beat! Thank you Libby!) and he was born a quick and scary 12 minutes after arriving at the hospital.

Worth it? Sure.

A couple of months ago, we decided to sign him up for Soccer through the YMCA this fall.  It was a weird choice to have to make. Sign him up to play with the 3-4 team or send him off to fend for himself with the 5-6s. We opted to go with the 3-4s.

When you're talking about 3-4 soccer it's like the punchline to an untold joke.  You expect flower picking and bird watching and very little actual soccer playing. So, you can imagine that we were pleasantly surprised at the amount of soccer played and the fact that Miles, who is a total spazz, did quite well.

 Miles's team is in the red. They call themselves the Fireballs.

 Miles scored 3 goals that day.

 And got really really sweaty. We're super proud of our spazz.

And as mentioned, he had a birthday. Happy 5 years of living on this Earth, Miles!

Blame Me.

 So, recently (as in, in the last month) Miles taught himself to read.

 It started out pretty slowly with random words on signs and very short books. 

And then suddenly, he was full-on reading. He's four. He won't even start Pre-K here until the fall. His teachers are in for a surprise. He's knocking my freaking socks off. 

So, for your viewing (and listening) pleasure, I present:

Miles SingReads A Book to Libby

 

 Truly. I wish I could take credit for his genius, but I'm pretty sure I had nothing to do with it.

Also, keep your eyes peeled. I have a sweet tutorial coming soon!

She Fits

Miss Libby Mae (as she's known round these parts) has made a seamless transition to our family.


She naps with anyone who'll hold still (thus excluding Lucas).

And she tolerates Lucas. Even if her expression in this picture does indicate fear at his presence.

Some Funny Math.

What do you get when you have one father who works for a very large (unnamed) video game producer multiplied by one mother who can't quit crafting?

Add in one old Tshirt with the aforementioned company's logo on it.

Divide by this FABULOUS tutorial by my awesome friend Sabra.

And your answer?

The dang cutest pair of boxer briefs this side of the Mississippi.
(My son will kill me later in life.)

He wore them today and I made him pull down his pants to show his underwear to no less than three people (not strangers, I promise!).

I really can't say enough good about this tutorial. It was so easy to follow and it made me feel like an expert seamstress at the end. And I've never even sewn with knits before.

I made a second pair tonight and they took about 45 minutes start to finish. LOVE.

I feel like I need to make a disclaimer. No, we aren't so broke that my son has no underwear and I need to be making him them out of old ratty tshirts. But, if you'd like to send money, I can send you my address...

Tonight's Family Prayer: An excerpt

As given by Miles.

"Please bless that we can be healthy and strong."
"Please bless that we can see who is the strongest."

At which point I couldn't take it anymore and started laughing so hard I was crying.
Love this kid.

Talented

My children, all of them, have amazing artistic abilities. I know you all think they must get it from me, but I promise you that I can't draw to save my life. I can craft, and there's TOTALLY a big difference. And even then, I'm a sloppy and lazy crafter at best.

But, uh, have you seen my husband's work?

I really should be scanning more of their drawings for you because Anna is seriously good. But today, I'm sharing this hilariously imaginative picture that Miles drew. On the magna doodle. Always on the magna doodle. It pains me because it means we can't keep his drawings, though I do try to take pictures of my favorites.



I really gotta get that kid a pad of paper of his own.
He has also been sounding out words lately. I love this stage. Let me know if you can figure out what he has written.

It's a Love/Hate thing.

Miles.

I can admit that I have the hugest soft spot for that sweet little ornery four year old. He can send me into a fit of rage faster than any of the other kids. But will melt my angry heart quicker than you can say snuggle time.

It appears the feeling is mutual.

Yes, that's right... Miles gives Dad a checkmark.

Divide and Conquer

I have to admit, bathtime is one of my most dreaded activities. Especially with this ginormous belly. It used to be that everyone got baths on the same night, but I just can't handle that much "helping" at once.

So, the kids' bathtime is split up. The girls shower (which they still need help with getting all the soap OUT of their hair) one night and I laboriously slave over the tub with the boys on another night.



Miles generally hates all manner of bath/shower activities so it's a labor of patience. Call it a boy thing. Lucas, on the other hand, will come bookin' it at the mere sound of water running. His futile attempts at stripping his clothes from his person are laughable. He can't get naked fast enough. Perhaps his opinions will change once he realizes the purpose of baths, such as it did with Miles.

The Boys.

While the girls are in school, I really do enjoy the time I get to spend with my boys. Lazy mornings. Staying in our jammies until the last possible moment. Naps. *Sigh.*

Lucas, at 21 months old has finally "mastered" the use of utensils. I use the word mastered loosely. He can spear things with his fork and transport them to his mouth with it. He can also eat a cup of yogurt semi-successfully with a spoon. We call this mastered.



And this little guy... well, not so little any more, but still my baby. Every afternoon, after Lucas is down for his nap, and we get a couple quick chores done, Miles and I will settle in for "Snuggle Time." At first, it was my way of getting to lay down and take a nap and hope that Miles would also fall asleep. And it worked! But now, as a creature of habit, every single day, Miles requests his Snuggle Time. Who am I to argue? Usually, I'll fall asleep for a quick 20 minutes and he'll blissfully sleep for a good hour or more. Love this boy.


So blessed. So. Very. Blessed.

Addicted

We have a small problem.

Miles is addicted to all things electronic.

If it has a screen, he wants to play on it. TV, Wii, Matt's Nintendo DS, Matt's G1 Phone, the computer, an old-school Nintendo GameBoy we've got, movies, even those kiddie laptops. He's even content to just watch you play something. It's pathetic.

And it's nauseating. And I'm SO over it. And it must stop.
He couldn't even pull his eyes away from the screen for two seconds to look at me...


Any advice?

1-2-3-4!

My baby had a birthday. No, not the baby growing (and leeching my will to live) within me. And no, not Lucas (who, consequently is also leeching my will to live - but that's another blog post entirely).

I mean my Miles. He believes that he's now a big boy, but I've made him promise over and over to be my baby forever. I've confessed my undying love and affection for this kid before, and friends who know him personally just can't help but feel the same way about him. He's intelligent, thoughtful, polite, and hysterical. Every day after Matt leaves for work, Miles will cuddle up to me and tell me in his most important voice, "Don't worry mom, I'm the man of the house now."

Happy Birthday, big man!

Miles is Funny.

Today I had the opportunity to teach Miles's Primary class at church. The lesson was basically about how cool our bodies are and all the neat stuff they can do. In the lesson manual, they have you talk about what things babies, for example can't do. Unfortunately, all the children in the class are the babies of their families, except Miles. The other children know a little about babies, of course.

So I asked them.
Me: Can a baby walk?
Kids: No!
Miles: My baby can!

Me: Can a baby talk?
Kids: No!
Miles: My baby can. He speaks Spanish.
Me: ... Um... Miles, Lucas doesn't speak Spanish.
Miles: Then why can't I understand him??

Never a dull moment.

Living with Miles is a laugh-a-minute. When he's not pondering on the friendship of Santa Claus and Jesus, he's singing Primary songs to himself or leading an attack as Captain Underpants. Yes, those books are popular over here too.



Weapon of Choice: Toilet Scrubber x 2.

One for tonight.

The cutest Sunbeam in all the land. (Except for each of yours, of course.)