Who would have thought, funny little man, who I would have changed so radically that there? A year ago at this time still were not there, and I, who thought only to save my Pellacchia, exhausted and depressed after many days of waiting, I wanted something else if only I'd known I was waiting for the happiest day of my life ... I would have enjoyed the pleasure of such leave, the curiosity to know how you would have been. And when you were born, I was so happy that everything went well and not being miraculously died of grief, not realizing that in a few rooms away were there already you, in your pajamas and white stripes green, not a puzzle to know which way to get you. It did not seem much good to tell the truth. But what child is born beautiful? I've always said, and the rule applies to all. And now that the months have passed, I no longer be objective and not so discreet as to spare certain looks that reveal how in love with you, my little big little man. Love of your arms apart, legs begin to tell that support the weight of your 11 pounds of your smile to seven teeth, your hair never take off, and those eyes that smart, I know, I convinced to do anything. I know, I'll give up everything and I will not be the mother I had expected to be, but who cares! And not even one of those mothers with indifference and false modesty to avoid saying how special their children ... You are special, and how! You are my sun and my moon and fills me with immense joy as the sky, my beloved, proud and sweet Antonio.
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