Dear little boy.

Right now, you are joy embodied. I pick you up out of your crib in the morning and you wrap one fat arm around my neck, the other around my left arm. You double- and triple-check to make sure that it's me, and you pat my back decidedly: "This. This is my mama."

I take a mental picture of the look on your face when you see your daddy in the morning. Even asleep, he is the center of your world. Another mental picture: you, clapping to the "Letter of the Day" on Sesame Street. The way you've learned to say "no" with a little scowl, and the way I need to hide my face so that you can't see me holding back a smile. Your laughter on the swings. Sticky, matted blonde curls on the back of your head after every meal. The first time you leaned in for an open-mouth kiss.

If I am very lucky, I'll live another sixty or seventy years. I'll see lots of wonderful things - the canals in Amsterdam, waterfalls in Croatia, sunsets from our backyard, new seasons, new roads. I can't imagine any holding a candle to your smile after you've eaten a strawberry.

I love you, little boy.

mama

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