Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Two Years

Dear Hunter,

Two years.  Some people call this number “terrible”, but I can’t say that I agree with them.  In the past several months you have transitioned from this little baby boy to just a little boy.  Every day you seem to do something new and I’m reeling to just take it all in. 

You love “cool” clothes and “handsome” hair.  Your favorite pairs of shoes are a neon green pair of Nikes that you love to show off to anyone who will listen to you as you point at your “cool shoes”.  I suppose I have to confess that I love dressing you more than anyone else in the family.  I don’t know why but picking out your clothes is a joy for me.  Clothes, shoes and hats are important to you and you always have an opinion on what you want to wear.  Almost every day we spike your hair into a faux hawk.  At first your Dad teased me about this, but it has since become your look.  Everywhere we go people comment about how cute you are.  With your nifty hairdo, your cool shoes, your sweet smile and your bright blue eyes, you are one handsome fella. 

Best of all, you have a sweet personality to match it.  You love to make us smile and laugh with your silliness.  You love to help me with anything and everything.  You are tentatively friendly – meaning you are not scared of strangers at all but you take your time before you start talking to them.  However, you also know how to say “no”.  Most of the time it sounds like this, “No.  I don’t like it!”  But for the most part you tolerate things pretty well.

You hit the developmental stage I call “word explosion” not too long ago.  You are a HUGE talker.  You can and do repeat absolutely any word that we say.  You have more words in your word bank that I could count.  Communication is pretty easy for you.  It’s fun to have actual conversations with you now.  Many times we will ask you what you played with in the nursery and you will tell us, “tractors, combines and strollers.”

You love to make us laugh.  Maybe it’s a silly dance or putting food on your head.  Maybe it’s a goofy look on your face.  Maybe it’s a silly phrase you call out at a random moment at the supper table (“Hot Chicken!”).  You are quite a ham.

Even with two sisters who may or may not on occasion dress you up in a pink tutu (sorry), you are all boy.  That is such a cliché phrase and truthfully it has always bothered me.  No matter what you would like you would still be all boy.  But what I really mean is that you love typical boy things like cars and trucks and football and basketball and tractors.  The huge supply of girl toys in our house doesn’t phase you one bit.  You put your tractor and your combine in the doll stroller and push it around the toy room all day long.  Their lego princess castle is just another place for you to park your trucks.  And all lego people are “Aurora” (Reagan’s favorite Disney princess) to you.

It fascinates me that as these two years have gone by, your sisters have loved you more and more every step of the way.  I wish I could capture for you the way they love and adore you.  You are very much their little prince.  They are delighted to see you in the morning.  They laugh hysterically at your antics and tricks.  They think you are the cutest little guy they have ever seen.  They love love love helping you with anything.  They go crazy for your hugs and kisses.  They cheer you on through all your trials and errors and victories.  They really do celebrate every day with you.  And you love them.  When they get off the bus after school you sprint to the door and wait.  You love to do all the things they do and want to be included no matter what they are playing. 

I am learning new things every step of the way with you.  Where your sisters had preferred to be carried, you prefer to walk.  Where they wanted to ride in the shopping cart, you want to push it (the big ones – not the kiddie ones).  Where they wanted to swing, you prefer to climb.  Where they wanted to color, you would prefer to play catch.  You keep me constantly on my toes, wondering what will come next and what things I should allow you to do and what things I need to say no to.

When Maddie started school this fall, you became my little sidekick.  When we are home, you are always in whatever room I am in.  We go places – you and I.  We do things together like prayer group, coffee break, and errands.  We are a duo.  I love every minute of it.  I love having you with me no matter where we go.  I love talking to you one on one.  I love being the one you turn to during the day.  I love your sweet little hand tightly gripping mine.

You are strong.  You are speedy.  You are bright.  You are calm.  You are cooperative.  Yeah, you get in trouble now and then, but for the most part I have things pretty easy with you.  And still I wonder, just like I have wondered since the day I found out I was having a boy, what will you be like down the road?  What kind of kid will you be?  What kind of teenager will you be?  What kind of college student will you be?  What kind of man will you be?

I call you my “little man” all the time.  It is my way of reminding myself that I am raising you to be someone who is not just cute.  The most important thing to me is not cuteness, or success, or intelligence, or strength, or ability.  All the ways we typically mark a child’s growth and maturity are not the most important qualities to me.  Instead it is my prayer that you will love Jesus so deeply and passionately that your devotion to Him rules every part of your life.

I don’t want to let go.  But every single day, with every single lesson, I teach you more and more how to live without me.  I am ever letting you go.  It is not something I could do were it not for the promise that no matter what Jesus will be with you, holding you close.  You are so very loved and I hope you grow each and every day to know that truth more and more.

I love you, little man, so very much.



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