Dear Oscar,

Two and a half years ago I left our house with a bulging stomach and returned with a bursting heart.

I remember the first time I saw your face, especially your eyes, and I wondered what you would be like. Little did I know that your personality would begin revealing itself that day, the day you were born. Within hours of your birth you were looking around with those enormous dark eyes, soaking in the world. You are the most curious and playful person I have ever known.

Your energy and love of life are infectious. You run up to me, take my arm, and say, “Mama, up…peas?” How can I say no? You take me in the other room to show me that an elaborate drama has unfolded involving matchbox car pile-ups, train derailments, and plastic frogs trapped under furniture. You point and say, in plaintive tones, “Ooooh nooo!”

You know the way to the playground, the way to the library, the way to the store, the way home. Your sense of direction at two is better than mine at forty. You express all kinds of interest and disappointment depending on my route. When I turn onto the street that takes us to the playground, you shout “Yay! Whee! YAAAAY! WHEEE!” When I head to the library, you say excitedly, “Oh, play? Play? Books! Yay!”

You just finished up swimming lessons, and while at first you were timid in the water you became more and more adventurous, eventually loving to jump off the edge into my arms, again and again until you were a wrinkled prune, even when I dunked you underwater every time. But my favorite part of swimming lessons is that every time you got back in the water, you gave me a kiss.

You are energetic and outgoing, mischievous and melodramatic. But you also love browsing through piles of books, “reading” them intently for almost an hour at a time. You put your arms around my neck and squeeze, kiss my cheek while I read to you, and cuddle in my lap with your blankie. You are smart, funny, sensitive, and very, very loving. I hope that never changes.

Whatever you become, you will always be my baby boy and the greatest gift I was given in this lifetime.

Love, Mama