Upon looking at my blog today I noticed two things:
1. My last two posts are about Milo
2. I am not very good at blogging these days
But here's the thing, Milo had a birthday earlier this month. So I must renew my blogging promise to post more (because that's what everyone likes to say after they've fallen into the blogging abyss) while also posting a third installment about my second child.
September 9th Milo turned the big six - which means for the sake of my own memory I need to post a little bit about him at this juncture. Since I agree that long blog posts about someone else's child are sort of boring, I have a pile of homework awaiting me, and I have an alarm that goes of at 5:45 - I'll try to keep this fairly brief.
No matter how many times I remind Milo, his natural instinct is to wipe his face and hands on his shirt.
He can't drink milk without getting the mustache.
Whatever food he is consuming he finds a way to make it messier than it needs to be.
Although his glasses are constantly dirty and bent, he is very careful about putting them away every night and cleaning them only with the specified cloth.
Once you are his friend (which happens if you take interest in his stories or respond to him at all) he will sit on your lap or hold your hand without asking.
He will choose to eat a "roll-up" (a wrap) over a sandwich any day and just started liking scrambled eggs two weeks ago.
He loves puzzles and books, and asks questions about everything.
I've already heard that his Kindergarten teacher has moved him tables multiple times because he keeps talking to the other kids. (Dear teacher, the talking will never stop)
He always writes his name with a big L and an o that sits on the line of the L.
If I didn't make him get out, he'd stay in the shower for hours.
Three visits to my school and he is already more popular than I am.
Milo, you make me crazy a lot of the time but I'm glad you still hold my hand occasionally. Happy Birthday.
All I could think of was, oh that creative little kid. Already his mind is drifting like his mom's and he's doodling on his paper instead of doing his work. And maybe one day he'll grow up and be an art director (which, in the ad world goes hand in hand with a copywriter).
