Dear Miles,

Dear Miles,

It's your fifth birthday. Another trip around the sun. You tell me about the trips around the sun we have to take to get older. You're obsessed with birthdays, whose is next, when you will get presents, when you get to share presents.

It's been a challenging year. You started school! Pre-Kindergarten! You are an achiever. You are just learning to read! It is very exciting for all of us. You are so proud of your accomplishments. And you should be!

Four was a funny age. I don't know about all four year olds but I know about you. You don't lack self esteem. You are the fastest, the best, the biggest, the strongest. Faster than a shinkansen! Stronger than me! The best scooter rider on the block (even on your first day riding a scooter)!

You can do math in your head. You love to help: help clean, help cook, help install the curtain rod!

Seeing you evolve into a big brother has been a joy. True, you have tried to ride Will like a horse on more than one occasion, but mostly, you take really good care of him. You hug him and share with him, and help Dad and I with the baby tasks. Your teacher, Ms. Lee, says you never stop talking about him.

School has been a mixed bag. It's the first year you've ever had to wait your turn or not be the center of someone's attention. You have trouble waiting. You want your way. Those life skills of waiting and patience may come. And it's possible your stubborness will allow you to achieve great things in life. I hope! Maybe next year you'll hold off on throwing your shoes at teachers, though. Despite the hiccups we've had at school, I think you're a neat kid. Smart, engaged, sweet natured, with an avid interest in all parts of the world. The adults and kids at school adore you! Your name rings out in the halls at school. The teachers think you're fascinating and funny. The kids like to pretend and play with you. And truly, at this point, that's all that matters.

I love you Miles. I love your snuggles, your thoughtfulness, your sincerity.

I'm excited for what the next year will bring!


Love,
Mama

Dear Will,

You are one today. One year old. 365 days on this earth.

A year ago, I knew I was having a baby. I had planned it all out. I knew the day and time you would enter this world. But I didn't know you. And I can't control everything (something I'm still learning). Gosh, you were a surprise! My whole pregnancy, I pictured another Miles. A mini Miles. A second Miles.

Instead of a second Miles, you came out! All eight pounds, 14 ounces of you! You were two whole pounds bigger than your brother when he was born! You had light eyes and... was it true?... reddish hair! What a wonderful, beautiful, joyous day the day we met you!

And you've continued to not be Miles. Becoming a mother of two has been surreal for me. That our genes could mix in ways that are so different continues to amaze me. You're calm and happy and a little bit shy. You're busy and quick and funny. Your personality is starting to show. You have a full body laugh; you throw your head back, mouth open, and fill the room with your perfect laugh.

Oh, and how offended you get when it's early in the evening and all your patience is gone. I say no and you are just so upset. You seem very emotionally in tune with your family. If your brother is crying, so are you. I love that you have empathy at one year. It's fascinating and quite interesting to watch.

I'm excited to see how you continue to change and develop. Not just over the next year but throughout your life. I'm excited to see how our genes made these two boys and how they will be alike. And how they will be different.

I love you so. Will, I love you so.


Love,
Mama

11 Months

It's a beautiful night tonight. The light is soft and a golden yellow. There is enough wind to move the curtains but not enough to blow our bedroom door closed. The temperature and humidity are that perfect mix where it's deliciously warm but not sticky.

I sit in an oversized glider and feed my baby. I know that our breastfeeding relationship will end in the near future. I only feed him in the mornings and at night now. It's bittersweet. My last baby. Almost one. These quiet moments will fade. I watch him closely while he feeds. Tonight, like the last few nights, he points his finger toward his eye, fascinated by the feel of his eyelashes against the tip of his finger. I think, "I'm going to forget this moment." I'm going to forget it in the whirlwind of work and professional commitments, social work meetings at Miles' school and the fact that Miles can read(!), hanging out with neighbors and vegging out in front of the TV, this moment will be lost. This moment that marks some small development in my baby's life, among so many other similar moments, will dim.

And maybe it's supposed to. One's brain can't hold on to every perfect moment. We remember the big ones, the ones that etch into our mind. Like Miles jumping up from the couch and screaming, "I can read!" after finishing a few sentences in a book. Will, walking, stomping his feet now, becoming a real person. Easter, where we've developed a tradition of hurling the eggs we dyed and watching them crash into pieces in the grandparents' back yard.

Recently, I was reflecting on this life, this family life, compared to my earlier one. Although I miss the spontaneity that comes with single life, like deciding to go to a movie an hour before it starts, I don't wish for another life. I don't wish for another set of kids. I don't wish for another family. I'm so very happy and fulfilled. And the sound of my baby's laugh, as I bury my head into his belly over and over and over and over and over again, sends so many endorphins coursing through my system, I don't know that anything could replicate or replace it. I get daily reminders of how lucky I am while quietly sitting with Miles. "Guess what mom?" "What?" "I love you." "I love you too, Miles."

I love these quiet moments with my kids. I'm glad I saved this one.


Here. Gaze upon these pictures of our nearly one year old and our nearly five year old.

Winter showed up for a few days in March

Doing his share

Worn out

Then Spring arrived and our street got beautiful.

Miles and Lucas went to a light festival

It seemed pretty cool

Walking like a champ

Watching a local pick up game

Last foray on the ropes before they redid the playground

Cool kid!

Building Museum, Washington DC

Building Museum, Washington DC

Building Museum, Washington DC

Building Museum, Washington DC

Building Museum, Washington DC

Building Museum, Washington DC

Worn out from their big day in DC

Building at home

Carousel

Gimme that wine!

Easter eggs

Jim blow torching some easter eggs

So super cute

Sicky snuggly guy

Fans, man... fans.

I don't even know.

I feel like this often

Little brother tackles big brother

Worn out again, different day

I just ate some blackberries!

Chaos at dinner time

Just look at our street!

Ravioli and water

Spaceship of Miles' design

Brothers

super cool dude

Look at what I can do

Neighborhood yoga

He looks really old in this picture

Look at us

So cute.

Look at us too

Bath-hawk

New chair, much loved by all

Baby in overall shorts!

Squee!

Orange hair.

When every one in your family has a birthday in May,
 this is what your dining room table looks like.

What?

This won't end badly.
(Except it did - big fall for the little one).

This isn't even posed. It happened naturally!

All the dudes.

Exploring.