Love note

Dear Vinny,
I thought I loved you when we locked eyes that first day. And then there was the first time you smiled at me, I was sure that was the first moment of love. Then when we would nap together cheek to cheek, that felt like love. It has become clear that this lovely and painful feeling seems to be growing and getting more lovely and more painful. I see you across the room chasing after a ball and you have me laughing and clapping and I must resist the urge to duct tape us together in a never-ending hug so you can't run away from me. I can't kiss you enough. I can't get enough of the feel of your soft, peach fuzz hair on my lips. I love that you are fearless, that you enjoy other people so much, your passion for balls and trucks and electronics is admirable.

How can I continue cooking in the kitchen, when you are toddling around with both chubby hands in the air, chanting 'ne ne ne ne ne, da da da da da' and kicking a tennis ball into the piano bench? I can't, you must be kissed. How can I sit here and blog when you are pulling leaves off of trees, unraveling paper towel rolls and hiding remote controls and cells phones in your little cave (the space under the cedar chest)? Again, I can't - you must be kissed. It is no wonder this time with you has the outward appearance of laziness for me. I don't have a job, I haven't read many books, the house is a mess and I am way behind on my emails and blogging, but in terms of kisses? We are way ahead of the game, wouldn't you agree?

Love,
Me (mama)