Silly Goose

10:29 PM

I should really call this blog the Milo Files at this point. There are just so many things constantly rolling out of that little mouth that necessitate documentation.

A few weeks ago we made chocolate covered pretzels. Milo was very involved in the process, mostly in the form of dumping heaping piles of sprinkles on one individual pretzel at a time- because go big or go home, right? Anyway, this week he's been talking about soup pretzels. And for the life of me I could not figure out what he was trying to tell me. So when I asked him what soup pretzels were, he said, you know, the ones we made that we put in the soup and they're treats? And then it all made sense. Chocolate covered pretzels. Or soup pretzels for short.

Milo is the worst at sleeping. Worst. He still wakes me up every night. Just a bit ago he came and got me and said, "I just want a little teeny tiny bit of juice" with his fingers showing just a teeny tiny bit. I told him to go back to bed, and he went and flopped tummy first onto the couch, arms by his side, chin on the arm rest, and said, "I'll just wait right here". He owns me.

His shirts usually end up inside out and backwards. Except for his superman shirt. The superman shirt is always on right, even if he has to get help from mom. Some things are worth the humility.

Today we went to Klyde Warren Park in downtown Dallas with our cousins. This park is awesome. The playground is great and it's fully decked out for Christmas. We also rode the trolley AND some guy in a food truck gave the boys each a bag of cheetos for free. But what was dear Milo's favorite part? The parking garage. "Mom what IS this place? Look at all these TUNNELS! I. LOVE. THIS. PLACE." Because clearly a dark garage full of big trucks is cooler than just about anything.

He calls velcro rips. He has his tennis shoes, which have rips, and his church shoes, which don't have rips. This is how he differentiates.

As soon as we get home from anywhere, he strips down and changes into shorts and a t-shirt. It cracks me up how he assumes that's just the norm, because it's exactly what Trevor and I do (in my case, sweatpants).

He does not like it when I leave a cabinet door open or if there's any clothing not shut in the drawer. He'll be just passing by me and say, "Mom, can you please close that cabinet?". And if we're dressing in a hurry and I don't get everything in the drawer, he makes me fix it. Hoping to nip that OCD quality in the bud but also maybe maximize on it because once in a blue moon he's really in the zone of cleaning up, and on those rare days, he is REALLY good at it.

If Milo remembers something, notices something, or tells me something is missing, 99% of the time he is right. His ability to pick things out or remember is uncanny.

More often than not, he sleeps with his sunglasses on. He requests 2 night lights but of course needs his shades so the lights don't burn his eyes. It's only logical.

3-almost-4 is really great.

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