Letter to Peanut

Dear Little Peanut,

Inspiration hit me today to send you a virtual letter and tell you all about what you're currently up to. The intention is that you'll have a way to see yourself (through me) in a few years - the reality is, the time goes so quickly that I, myself, want to frame this moment in time, as a way of remembering where we once were...perhaps to be used to your benefit when you hit 13 and I want to beat you up.

You are precisely 2 years, 3 months and 10 days old today. There are parts of you that seriously Have. Not. Changed since the first moment you were born. Looks on your face that are the very same as Day 1. That sideways glance you get - part devil, part master planner - when an idea is stirring. That voracious appetite (man, can you eat!), your near obsession with holding our fingers.

And then there are things about you that have developed over time - beautiful, wondrous things. Like, just the other day, when we were looking at one of your books, and I explained that the baby rabbit was crying because he was hungry, and you took your cereal and offered it to the page. Or when your daycare friends cry and you immediately run over to hug them and caress their backs. Or when the school "bully" (poor kid, just doesn't know his own strength) steals your paci and you happily laugh about it.

You are a complex little creature. You know what you want, and you are NOT happy when you don't get it (or if we make you wait more than 3.5 seconds to get it).

You are tenacious. You literally spent 35 minutes on my lap undoing and re-closing my buttons last night before bedtime. It also took us over 2 years to figure out that sleep was just NOT going to happen unless we just gave in a little bit (now you sleep -- like a rock -- on a mattress on the floor in our bedroom).

You are curious. The number 1 phrase heard out of your mouth (besides MOMMY, PAPA', VIENIIII - in English, "come heeeere!") is "Voglio vede'" - which means "I want to see." Your Papa' recently bought you a stool so you could move it around to wherever we were working - namely, the kitchen, so you could keep your eye on whatever it is we're creating.

You are stubborn. Oh, wait, I already used "tenacious." Let's keep it positive then :)

Time sweeps along and I smell your hair when you sit on my lap, to grasp a memory, one that will not fade. Yet, I know these memories will inevitably fade...I already can't remember the smell of your hair from one evening to the next...but the circling of warmth in my belly, my eyes, my chest will not. And, as life progresses and the years advance, I will continue to learn and understand new sides to you, and feel the awe of seeing you develop into your own perfectly imperfect little being.

Love,

Mommy