It has been one and a half years since you were placed into my arms for the first time. You were crying, as all newborns do, but as soon as they laid you on my chest, as soon as our eyes met, you stopped. You just looked up at me, me down at you.
Right then, with tears clouding my vision I told you I loved you for the first time in your life.
That, my dear boy, is one of my most favorite memories.
Yet every day new favorites are being formed. Just tonight, as you played in the new fountain in our backyard and you unintentionally squirted yourself, you looked at me. Maybe for reassurance, maybe for a smile, I'm not sure.
Then a huge grin spread over your face. I started laughing, hard. There you were, in your sweet little outfit, on a not quite warm enough evening, soaked. Then the most beautiful sound in the world filled my ears. Your laughter. There we were, just us, laughing our guts out for three minutes solid. I thought "this is something I never want to forget."
I love you with every cell of my being, sweet boy. Your Dada and I talk about how we never knew, never even imagined how deep, how all-encompassing, how amazing this love is. I never understood the love a mother has for her child until I had you. And it is the most amazing feeling in the world.
Happy one and a half. Next time I write one of these letters? You'll be two, and that, my sweet kiddo, blows my mind.