Lauren B. Lentini

My favorite thing about you is your voice, and the way you pronounce new words every day. The funny inflections you use, your whisper, and the variety of gibberish and exclamations you come up with.

My favorite thing about you is the way you say “Mommy,” particularly when I’ve done something dumb to amuse you. That will grow into an eye-rolling “Mo-om” when you’re old enough to be embarrassed by me, and I’ll love it.

My favorite thing about you is your laugh. All of your laughs, especially the mischievous one and the carefree one and the one you make when I tickle you.

My favorite thing about you is the cuddles. When you crawl into my lap or collapse into my arms for a hug, I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be in life. And then you position my hands and arms so I’m precisely where you think I’m supposed to be.

My favorite thing about you is how excited you get about food. I can’t help but smile at the exuberance in your voice when you request your favorite foods, “yo” and applesauce and cheese and milk. Sometimes I wish you’d eat more of what we give you, and other times you surprise me with your enjoyment of Indian and Ethiopian dishes.

My favorite thing about you is how much you love other people, your Dada and me, your cousins and aunties, your Grandee, your friends from daycare you haven’t seen in months. Don’t let quarantine and isolation take that away from you.

My favorite thing about you is your smile. You’re such a cheerful, happy boy. (Your parents both thank you for that.) Your smile is a little crooked from how much you love your soothie, but it’s all the more charming for it. I’ve got bad news for you about that soothie, though.

My favorite thing about you is how you congratulate yourself for a job well done, whether it’s following instructions, throwing away a paper towel, or doing something on your own. Your clapping, “Yay!”, and lately “I did it!” make me wish we would all celebrate our own accomplishments.

My favorite thing about you is your fashion sense, and the fact that “hat” was among your first words. Watching you learn to put on your own clothes is one of the biggest tests to my patience parenthood has brought me, but I admire your determination all the same.

My favorite thing about you is how much you love books, and how you’ve learned to request them by name and “read” them to yourself. You have such strong opinions about which books you want to read, but always “more.” May that never change.

My favorite thing about you is watching you learn and figure things out. I hate how much screen time we’ve given you, but I love how adept you are with a user interface and how you surprise us with knowing letters and numbers and colors we didn’t even teach you.

My favorite thing about you is listening to you fall asleep as I take a quiet moment for myself in the dark, to read or play a game or write a blog. Some days I wish I could just put you down and leave the room, but as routines go, we could have worse. This is my meditation, listening to you kick the mattress and suck on soothie, occasionally entertain yourself with fart noises, and eventually go still.

My favorite thing about you is the next thing. And the thing after that. And all the things I can’t even imagine yet that you’ll do. You’ve astonished me every day of the past TWO years, and I can’t wait for more.