Miles is one. He has zero teeth - but a million charisma, so I guess it all balances out. His new things are pulling up on anything he can get his hands on, crawling all over me and laughing in my ear really loudly, stealing sunglasses, eating pizza, and being much cuter than anything else on the planet. I'm going to be 35 tomorrow, and I just realized that when Miles turns 35, I'll be 70. That doesn't scare me too much, it just makes me realize I should take care of myself a little bit. So, I'm going to go get my cholesterol screened on Friday, and walk all over Fiona Apple's treadmill. (Did I mention I own Fiona Apple's treadmill?) I do. For real.
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