Wild Man Mellows

Hunter has been out-of-control wild lately. He's 110% 2 years old, and I'll be candid: daily he works my nerves and my ass. Parents of any 2-year-old can tell you, they test your sanity and your love. It's hard, to remember they are the sweetest little things when they're throwing dirt on the carpet, destroying everything in their path, fist fighting their brother. Hunter, though, when he's not on a terrorist rampage about the house, is adorable. He's tender, caring, and adorable. Now that's working with a nice full vocabulary it's like I can finally talk to my best friend.

I have such a tight connection with this little guy, I feel so blessed. If he hear's I'm upset he comes running and asks, "What happened, Mama?" When Theo says, "I love you, baby." Hunter promptly inserts, "I love you, too, baby!" He repeats most everything we say, ending the phrase with and added, "Me, too, Mama!" For example, if Ben says, "We're going to the pumpkin patch on a field trip today." Hunter echoes, "Me pumpkin patch field trip, too, Mama!"

Hunter cuddles and loves and nurtures me. He sleeps with his baby, a small doll. He lugs his cats around, and makes his toys lovingly interact. He gives the little people figurines we have rides in the various cars. He carefully builds towers. Every morning I wake to his cheeks gently, and tightly, smooshed up against my cheeks; he crawls into my bed silently every night while I sleep. Sometimes he wraps his little arms around me, too. Priceless. Waking up to him is the greatest way to start the day. He's such a treasure.

I caught him a few weeks ago laying on the floor like this, watching one of his shows.



Does it get any cuter?