I...I just cannot with this kid. Trying to accost me with a bag of Goldfish crackers.
I'm still not feeling great and am spending most of my days in bed this week, but Miles has (mostly) been a source of comfort. I say "mostly" because this morning was maybe one of the worst this house has seen. Screaming, threats, punishments, tears...just an absolute cacophony of misery to start the day. And … Continue reading Year 5, Day 315
After our drive back from Myrtle Beach yesterday, we were all exhausted by the time we arrived home. We grabbed some dinner and fell asleep quickly after that. When I woke up this morning, we were all still in bed, and Miles, as he often does, had come into our bedroom and joined us at … Continue reading Year 5, Day 305
I was coming downstairs this morning when Miles, whom I had not even seen yet today, called out from the living room: "Daddy! Do you want to see the skeleton parts of Santa's body??" ...annnd back to bed. I don't know what that was all about, but I think I'm good.
Getting Miles ready in the morning is never easy. He wants to do everything himself, but literally everything he does underscores just how much help he needs (which he loudly rejects, and on and on it goes). This morning, while he was "brushing his teeth," I said, in desperation, "Miles, you need to brush ALL … Continue reading Year 5, Day 244
Sure, when it comes to getting out of the house in the morning, Miles tends to be pretty disagreeable. But once we pull up at school, any and all misgivings have vanished and he eagerly enters the building and beelines for his classroom. It took very little time for him to become acquainted to the … Continue reading Year 5, Day 201
Al Bundying in his sleep.
I had to head out for work early today, before Miles was even out of bed. I still went by his room to see him before I left, and although he seemed to be sleeping soundly, as I said I'd see him later, he lashed out and seized my arm. He didn't say a word … Continue reading Year 5, Day 115
"Daddy, I'm a leg man." - Miles, in response to my question about why he has to do this every time I'm trying to lift him into the car. To clarify, he does this AS I'm putting him in the seat, which of course doesn't make things needlessly difficult at all.
"I'm dressing in Daddy's shirt!" - Miles, attempting to steal my work shirt and take my place at my job today (SPOILERS: If it were at all plausible I would TOTALLY let him).