Miles

Miles drew a really cool picture of "Jack and the Bean Stop".  For fun, I tried to explain what a stalk was.  He listened but still doesn't believe that is what grew from the magic beans.

He calls cupcake sprinkles, "sparkles" and doesn't like to be corrected.

This morning Miles and I woke up (every night he goes to sleep upstairs in his bed and every morning he wakes up in our bed) and I saw that he'd had an accident at some point.
"Ah-oh, " I said.  "I think you had an accident in our bed."
He looked at the wet circle, raised his eyebrows suspiciously and loudly cried, "No!  You did it!"

Miles has just entered the Sunbeam class which means he no longer gets to just play all the time but is expected to sit and sing and listen for at least a good portion of our Sunday meetings.  He's doing pretty well with it.  His teacher is beautiful, creative, and super sweet.  She's been so good at helping him feel needed in class so that he won't be upset when we leave him.  As I picked him up from class two weeks ago he was beaming.
"How was class?"  I asked.
"Good!  Sister Duffie gave me gum!" he also showed me the picture he drew.
"Awesome!"  I said, "Tell Sister Duffie thank you and we'll see her next week."
He turned to her and happily said in a sing-song, "I am never coming back to your class again." And walked out the door.

I love when Miles makes mistakes on his words because it reminds me he is still little.  He sometimes stubs his "little poes" and I kiss them and smile.  He is growing up too fast.  A few days ago, in the car (after keeping good on his word to never go to primary ever again--at least not with out bribing), he said, in these exact words but with really cool inflection, "For going to primary, guess who gets a chocolate bar?"  Then, both index fingers pointing at his belly, "This guy!"  It was cute but it almost made me cry because he sounded like he was about 10.  

I am so madly in love with this kid that sometimes every thing he does seems to evoke a much stronger reaction than it probably should.

For example, when he hugs my leg and won't let go I feel so happy because I realize he still isn't even close to my waist yet, so he's still little.

 When he offered to be a big kid and bring in the mail, I couldn't stop watching him as he kept dropping papers and picking them back up, but dropping more in the meantime.  I laughed and cried at the same time.

 And when he marched around the house making huffing and growling noises, Andre asked, "Why are you so angry?"  He responded, indignantly, "NO!  I'm TOUGH!"  And again, I laughed, but I also felt like crying because he needs to grow up and be tough and strong...

 ...but I'm not ready to give up my precious little boy who, like today, snuggled in bed with me to read a story.  I began reading the book and about halfway through, Miles turned and touched my face and said, "I'm really tired.  Maybe you could just read this to yourself later."  Then he turned away and lifted the back of his shirt so that I could tickle him softly until he fell asleep.  Words cannot express my feelings for this precious boy.