I'm going to ramble about my son now. He's a beautiful boy, 21 months old, the second love of my life. Born on Christmas Eve 2002. I was due Christmas day, and as he is my first, I fully expected to be late and not have to worry about the birthday/holiday fiasco that will happen when he is 9. Now I do have to worry. Hopefully in a few years we'll begin having half-birthday parties for him, a big summer outdoor event that is certainly *not* Christmasey. This year he likely won't notice, and the year he was born I was an emotional wreck who cried at carols about baby boys as special gifts. Actually, I'm sure those songs will always get me.

I thought I wanted a daughter. Funny how that is. I wanted a girl to bond with, to dress in pink and talk boys with. And I still do want a daughter, but I can't imagine life without a son now. I do have moments of panic - I could now become the mom of 4 boys. All those boys. "Here come the I boys" they'd say. And I wouldn't mind being a mom to all girls, but the fear of not having a daughter exists. But when I imagine having four boys like Nino, its not so bad. He's perfect. Sure, he's almost 2 and acts that way, but he's himself. I wouldn't want him any other way.

We call him Nino sometimes. It's the traditional Italian nickname for his name. It's pronounced nee-noh, although I do think it appropriate that it is spelled the same as a storm system. His favorite words include "bang" and "dump".

We think he's a genius. It's probably that I have never watched so closely the development of a person. He learns so much every day. He repeats words and figures out what they mean. He identifies colors and groups like objects. He gives the most wonderful hugs and kisses. He holds out his injured finger for a kiss, and kisses me when I kiss it. He wants to wear a hat in the sun. He wants his shoes to be tied and tries so hard to tie them. He eats tomatoes and raw onions and peppers and cheese and pickles.

He is a real person. I can't imagine celebrating my anniversary without him, so we're all going to picnic on the beach.

Here he is the day we came home:

What he's grown into: