Letter Ten

Dear Luke,

Monday was your third birthday. Third! Before becoming your mama, I didn't understand the sense of disbelief that I heard from other parents when their child reached a particular age. But now I get it. Someone I know likes to say, "The days are long, but the years are short" and that very nicely sums up how life is with you.

Last night we went to a Christmas party at my former boss' house. You were the only kiddo there, and quickly you became the hit of the party. You have great manners, you are truly intersted in other people, you're good natured, and you've got an excellent (if a bit bent -- sorry about that, you never really had a chance in that arena) sense of humor. Your dad and I are amazed, all the time. Even when you are being obnoxious and whiny and causing trouble, it's with an insight and a creativity that makes us stop and blink for awhile.

You've continued to be interested in music. You sing constantly, and you experiment with structure and timing a lot -- syncopation and things like that. I am a little bit completely blown away by this. You told me yesterday that you want to be in a band with me. Apparently, I will play drums and you will play "cuh-TAR." You also wanted to hear "Challengers" by The New Pornographers over and over again, saying that Neko Case sounds like me. (Imagine if you had any idea of what to do with that kind of flattery.)

Currently, your favorite songs are:

* Real Gone - Sheryl Crow (From the movie Cars)
* I'll Tell Me Ma - Sinead O'Connor (You say that this song "looks like a strawberry.")
* Challengers - The New Pornographers
* Haul Away - Split Enz ("Hollaway Song," you call it. Right around the third verse, when a few more instrumental sounds kick in, you say, "This song looks like snow!")
* Nature Boy - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds ("Nick Cave Boy Song.")
* Nails in My Feet - Crowded House ("The sad Neil Finn song," you call it.)
* Human Touch - Elvis Costello
* All These Things That I've Done - The Killers ("I Got Soul But Not Soldier Song.")

You also really enjoy classical music, and you've gotten really good at identifying the sound of a violin. I mean, really. You must be the coolest, smartest person I've ever met in my life. There's an expression in Mexico -- Me quito el amor de madre -- I take away my love as a mother and still, you astound me.

A few days ago, your Mimi emailed me this pretend phone conversation she witnessed:

Hi, Mama. What are you doing? I’m just over here playing at Mimi’s house. I need a really good friend named Mama to come ovo heo and play with me. OK. Bye, Mama. I love you.

You've become interested, finally, in learning Spanish. I was worried for a long time because not only were you not interested, you flatly said you didn't want to learn. I think maybe you became determined to learn after realizing that you couldn't understand what Mimi and I were saying right in front of you. You have a ways to go before your Spanish skills catch up to your English skills, but you're doing just fine. Your accent is nearly perfect. You seem to have inherited my ease with language, which is so exciting to me, selfishly, because I can't wait to discuss the intricacies with you. One day.

You've also inherited your dad's attention to detail and dogged determination to figure things out, to make things work, to bide your time. You're not nearly so impatient as I am, and you're a remarkably good sport when things don't go your way, when you're stuck in your carseat for long periods of time, when you need to do something you don't want to do.

What else? Oh, yes, you will eat nearly anything. You are the least picky child I've ever met. You love helping out around the house. You love figuring out how things go. You have a ready supply of odd jokes. You can't stand to see anyone unhappy. Your heart is endlessly tender and you are terrifically good-natured.

Boy, I don't understand how we got so lucky. Every day I thank God for loaning you to me. Every day I try to be better, to be the sort of mama you deserve. You've totally changed my life and its meaning. I adore you, my three-year-old.

Love,
Mama